#but Dean is not in his right mind. and Charlie is the key to cracking the book. and he can’t let the book be cracked. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queen-rowenas · 3 years

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make a wish - 1.5k words, destiel, happy birthday dean winchester

“Happy birthday to you!”

Dean grins, seated at the head of the war room table. The bunker is strewn with colorful streamers and balloons. There’s a buffet’s worth of food lined down the table, featuring Winchester Surprise, Dean’s burgers, Jody’s legendary desserts, and, of course, a birthday pie.

“Happy birthday to you!”

And his family is here, singing as loud and off-key as they can. Sam is beside him, Eileen tucked under his arm. Cas is on his other side, a party hat crooked on his head. Jack has made a stop by for the day, saying heaven could manage without him for 24 hours.

Jody, Donna, and the girls are on either side of the table. Claire has gone through almost all of her old man jokes since she arrived. Charlie and Stevie were off on a hunt with Bobby, too far away to make the drive, but they made sure to call. And Dean had a long FaceTime with Garth earlier in the day.

“Happy birthday, dear Dean!”

The cake is homemade, Jody’s handiwork, but Jack helped. The kid, the god, had beamed as he placed it in front of Dean. “I iced it myself.”

On the top in sloppy blue letters, it says, “Happy Birthday, DeaN!”

Dean will deny ever tearing up over a freaking cake.

There’s also two candles on it.

Dean never imagined he’d get this far. Seeing Sam present the two numbered candles had thrown him. He felt the weight of time that had already passed him, and he felt the rush, the privilege, of having made here. He made up for it with some comment about how Sam found them in the bunker’s storage room.

“Happy birthday to you!”

Dean doesn’t believe in wishes. At least, not the kind that comes without a catch. But he’d be lying if he said that it doesn’t make his heart beat a little faster as he leans forward toward the candles.

Make a wish.

He glances up, looks at his family, the smiling faces around him. He has everything he could ever want.

Well, almost everything.

Cas’s low timber beside him strikes right through Dean’s chest, and he’s painfully aware that he’s never really heard the angel sing before. He can feel the heat of Cas hovering at his side, his hand on the back of his chair, always there, always close.

But Dean aches for more, aches for him. He needs to close the space, but every chance he gets, the words run dry.

So he leans over his cake and breathes in slow.

I wish I could just say how I feel. Just tell him.

He cracks one eye open. And maybe a new set of tires for Baby.

And he blows the candles out.

They cut the cake. They eat. Dean digs in, ignoring Sam’s pointed looks. It’s my birthday. Most of the others take a few courtesy bites of the Winchester Surprise, but it’s Dean’s burgers that are the real hit.

“You know,” Jody says, half of her burger gone, “usually the birthday boy doesn’t have to fix the food on his birthday.”

Dean shrugs. “I don’t mind. It’s actually kind of nice, getting to cook for my family, getting to make something good for a change.”

The conversation at the table quiets, a few glances cast around.

Jody clears her throat. “Well, you’ve made a lot of good.”

Later, Dean’s showing Claire the sword on display in the library, making sure to keep out of Jody’s line of sight, when Kaia walks up. She leans into Claire, lacing their fingers together. “Cool sword.”

“Right?” Dean smiles, looking down at their hands. “I’m happy for you two.”

Claire blushes. “Uh, thanks.”

“It’s nice. Seeing you two happy after everything. It makes me think maybe I can get something like that, too.”

The two girls share a look. “That’s...good.”

Dean swallows. Where the hell did that come from? he thinks, a little too late.

After Jody and Donna have left with the girls, Sam corners Dean in the kitchen. He really tries to seem nonchalant, but even in a food coma, Dean can see him considering each step.

“Hey, Dean, can we talk?”

“Dude, those are like the worst words to hear on my birthday.” Dean turns to put his empty plate in the sink. “‘Cause you know talks always make me nervous, and then I get all frustrated because I’m afraid I’m gonna say the wrong thing and mess things up or make people think crap about me.”

Sam closes his mouth, his eyes narrowing, looking over Dean. He takes a breath. “No, this”—he shakes his head—“this isn’t about anything like that. This is about you...over-sharing.”

Dean frowns. “Over-sharing? I never over-share. I usual keep things bottled up because being all open and vulnerable and crap freaks me out.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “That’s what I’m talking about. I talked to Claire and Kaia, and Jody said you told her she was like a mother to you.”

“Well yeah, I—”

“Found some,” Eileen calls, holding up a roll of duck tape.

Cas is close behind, one of the bunker’s inventory catalogs in hand. “I found something, too. They’re apparently wish-granting candles.”

“Seriously?” Dean scoffs, but he can feel words bubbling up in his chest, rushing to his lips as he hones in on the way Cas’s brow creases. The purse of his lips. “Cas, I—”

“Okay!” Sam snatches the tape from Eileen. “That’s enough of that.”

Dean protests as Sam slaps a strip over his mouth and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

The last few minutes of his birthday tick by with Dean sitting alone in his bedroom, having a minor meltdown. Before being banished to his room, he had made a quick stop by the garage, and yep, Baby had a brand new set of tires. The realization of what he almost said to Cas has his stomach twisting in knots, and he suddenly regrets the extra bites of Winchester Surprise he stole from Cas’s plate.

He would thank Sam for making him shut up if it didn’t come with the risk of revealing even more deep crap that should never see the light of day.

There’s a knock on the door, and Cas ducks his head in, a plate with a piece of birthday pie in hand. Dean clamps his mouth shut.

“Can I come in?”

Dean only nods, gritting his teeth.

The words press harder at the back of his teeth as Cas offers a lopsided smile, setting the pie on the nightstand.

“Sam felt bad about locking you away on your birthday, so he sent me with some consolation pie.”

Dean takes the plate and pauses.

Cas’s smile drops and his hands fidget. “Oh, I forgot to get you a fork.” He points back and says something about getting it, but Dean is too distracted by the flush on his cheeks. When had that become a thing?

He wants to reach out, to feel the heat of that blush under his own fingertips. He wants to take Cas’s face in his hands and tell him, tell him—

“I love you.”

Cas freezes, his hand tightening on the doorknob, and Dean is on his feet. His chest feels lighter as the words catch in his throat and pour out.

“I love you, and I’m scared as hell that I’m gonna mess something up.” Dean runs a hand through his hair. “Look, man, I’m crap at this, and you don’t deserve that. You deserve someone who can say the right words, and that’s why I made that stupid wish, ‘cause I wanted to just get over my crap and tell you.”

He coughs out a desperate laugh. “And now I can’t stop, and I know I say I hate chick-flicks, but I kinda wish you’d shut me up with a kiss or something before I say anything else stupid.” His eyes grow wide. “But only if you want to. I mean, if you don’t that’s fi—”

Cas takes a step forward and presses their lips together. It’s quick and chaste, but it’s enough to steal Dean’s breath away. Dean sways to follow him, but Cas stops him with a hand on his chest.

The angel smiles, his eyes glassy. “I love you, Dean.”

A shuddery breath escapes Dean’s lips, and he opens and closes his mouth helplessly.

Cas runs his hand up his chest, curling around the side of his neck. He watches Dean’s throat bob with rapt attention as he swallows.

“How do you feel now?”

Dean tips into him and whispers, “I’d really like to kiss you again.”

Cas smiles as their lips brush. “I think that can be arranged.”

Dean melts into him, their lips moving in a slow glide, his fingers tangling in dark hair and the edge of a trench coat as Cas’s arms wrap tight around him.

The clock ticks to midnight, and Dean feels it in his gut. The loose spool of words tangling back together, the dam sealing back up to hold back the flood. A part of him is almost disappointed the birthday curse is over.

But then he smiles and draws back from the kiss, and his chest doesn’t feel as tight when he speaks.

“I love you.”

Maybe wishes do come true.

— tag list (ask to be added or removed)

@castiel-for-lunch @castiel-is-a-cat @castielsbeeslippers @ccstiel @dancerdovegirl @donvex @dstiel @ensignabby @expectingtofly @feraladoration @fireghost-x @galaxies-of-the-heart @galaxycastiel @goldensigh @good-things-do-happen-dean @himitsubana @ialwaysordericedcoffee @lalisfandoms @lateral-org @lilith-wnchstr @llamasdumpsterfire @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @mishha @nightandwine @okamigamer1 @ragingdeansexual @rainbowscas @somerandomfucking-geek @starsdahb @theangelwiththewormstache @top13zepptraxx @van-dynex @unsolvednatural @winchester-novak

#happy birthday dean winchester #destiel #destiel ficlet #supernatural #dean winchester #deancas fanfic #fic #first kiss #curse fic #mine*#emmawrites*#1k*

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 3 years

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Miles of Memories- 1

We’ve Got Tonight- Bob Seger

Miles of Memories Masterlist CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Dean x reader Best Friends to Lovers AU

Summary: Feeling anxious about heading off to college, you make the most of your last night in town with the help of your best friend, Dean.

Warnings: fluffy, adorable Dean and fun banter. Slight angst (goodbyes are hard). Minor mentions of childhood trauma

WC: 2,900

A/N: This part is like a “prelude” to give you a glimpse of Y/N and Dean’s relationship (5 years before the main storyline). I hope you stay tuned for the slowest of Dean x fem!reader slowburns. I’m so excited to share this story, so please let me know what you think! MASSIVE thanks to my spectacular and badass beta crew—@christopher-evxns @deanwinchesterswitch @ezilyamuzed & @wonder-cole—for all of their help and input!! I edited even after their feedback, so all mistakes are my own. Credit to Bob Seger for the song :)

Zipping your suitcase closed with a heavy sigh, you worked through your mental checklist for the hundredth time to make sure you hadn’t forgotten to pack anything.

“Jeez, you act like it’s the last time you’ll ever see this place or something.” With a smile and a roll of your eyes, you turned to see Dean leaning casually against your doorframe. “Y’know, I figured I’d talk to Bobby about renting this space out anyway. Save you the stress of missing it while you’re gone because it’ll look completely different the next time you come back.”

“I’m not too worried. I think you’re the last person Bobby would trust with anything—let alone a space in his house.”

Dean grinned, pushing off the doorframe to mosey into your room. “See, normally I’d agree with you. But it just so happens that he gave me my very own key to the garage, so I think he’s coming around. This ready?” He pointed at the suitcase on your bed, and you nodded.

“Riiight. I’m supposed to believe that Bobby would actually give you a key to come and go at the shop anytime you want.”

Dean shrugged, spinning on his heel with your bag in hand. “Guess he’s looking for a new favorite since you’re skipping town to go be successful out in the real world.”

You snorted and shook your head, silently following him to the door. He stepped out of the way, placing his free hand on the doorknob as you scanned the bedroom one last time. Gnawing your bottom lip, you sucked in a deep breath and tried to alleviate some of the tightness in your chest.

This room had been a safe haven for most of your life, and it was hard to remember the days before you called it “home.” Your mother had passed away when you were a toddler, and your father was a drunk, in and out of jail and your life until one day he didn’t come back. Bobby had often been the one who took care of you when your father needed to pass you off onto someone else.

You didn’t remember much about the “Travelin’ Man” (as Bobby not-so-lovingly referred to him on the rare occasions he was mentioned), but you could easily recall the night Bobby told you this would be your room for good. The relief and excitement you’d felt upon learning you’d have a space of your own were still vivid. Knowing you had a place you could always return to provided a sense of stability and consistency you’d never known.

Bobby may not have been your father by blood, but he was your dad in every sense of the word. Sure, he was a little rough around the edges and tended to be a hermit, but he also had a heart of gold, and not once had he ever made you question whether he cared about you.

A few weeks after settling into your new home, you had met Jessica and Sam during recess at your new elementary school. Although they were a grade younger, you’d instantly hit it off with them. Jess and Sam had always been there for you over the years, too, willing to lend an ear or make time for movie nights and spontaneous trips to the diner. Eventually, Sam had introduced you to Dean, and the two of you had been inseparable ever since. Each and every memory you had growing up involved at least one (if not all three) of them. But while it was difficult saying goodbye to everyone in general...you still hadn’t been able to grasp the idea of saying goodbye to Dean.

Dean was the one who had been by your side through everything. From heartfelt life chats and your deepest moments of self-doubt to car ride sing-alongs and your loudest belly laughs. He was always there to comfort you, remind you not to take things so seriously, and even drag you into trouble once in a while.

The thought of leaving him and your safe, familiar home brought yet another wave of apprehension and doubt. What if you were making a huge mistake?

“Y/N...” Dean’s gentle voice coaxed you back to reality. “We’ve still got a lot to pack into our night, so don’t go checking out on me yet.”

Without looking back, you slipped past Dean and heard him shut the door as you made your way downstairs.

“You know, this wouldn’t be so hard if you would’ve just applied like I told you to. Then we could both be going off to college together, and you’d find out what an honor it would be to have me as a roomie.”

“Okay, well, let me remind you that you’re the one who decided to go ‘see what’s out there’ and get a fancy college degree under her belt. And, even if we did survive being roommates without making the other want to pull their hair out, there’s no way in hell that town would be able to handle both of us.”

“That’s fair.”

“Besides, I won’t have much of a chance to miss you. You’ll probably flunk out and be back here by the end of the semester anyway.”

“Also fair,” you laughed. “Taking a year off to work at The Roadhouse and pretend to get my life together seemed like a good idea at the time, but I’m a little worried about getting into the groove of studying and all that crap again.”

“You know, if you need help, all you gotta do is pick up the phone. I mean, Sammy’s a real bookworm, and he’s only a phone call away.” Dean winked as he held the front door open and motioned for you to lead the way.

Sticking your tongue in your cheek, you fought to hide your amusement at the way he threw his brother under the bus. Before you made it through the door, you whirled around toward the stairs again. “Dang it. I forgot my bathroom bag. Do you mind tossing that one in the car? I’ll be right back!”

“Another bag? Where are you gonna put all this crap?” he muttered.

After retrieving the pouch from the bathroom upstairs and making sure you hadn’t left any necessary items in the drawers and cabinets, you hurried outside to find Dean patiently waiting beside your car. You tossed the small bag and he caught it with ease, pitching it in the backseat before closing the door.

“And done. Any last-minute stops to make along the way?” he asked.

“Nope. I caught Ellen, Jo, and Jody at the end of my shift yesterday, and Charlie was over for a bit this morning. And, you know, Sam and Jess ditched us for California last weekend. That means you and Bobby are the only two left to put up with me until I leave in the morning.”

When your voice cracked unexpectedly, you cleared your throat and surveyed the scrapyard until the faint prick in the corners of your eyes faded. As your departure drew near and you considered everything you were leaving behind, venturing out into the world was quickly beginning to feel more daunting than exciting.

“Hey…” Dean gripped the tops of your arms, stirring you from your thoughts. “We’ve got tonight. Who needs tomorrow? We’ve got tonight...babe. Why don’t you staaaaaaaayy—”

You had thought he was going to say something sweet and comforting, but you playfully shoved him in the chest when you realized he was speaking in Bob Seger lyrics. He stumbled back a step, laughing as he walked around the front of the impala and climbed inside.

***

There was an old park on the outskirts of town where Bobby and John would occasionally drop you both off when they had errands to run. As the years passed, you began riding your bikes the few miles across town, taking turns balancing Sam on your handlebars until Dean was old enough to drive. Eventually, Sam stopped tagging along, but somewhere along the way the park became a place you and Dean cherished.

A large pond stretched across most of the area, and there was a stately willow tree near the water’s edge that served as your designated “spot.” It was a hideaway often overlooked by others, but it was the perfect escape when the two of you needed a place that was all your own.

“Alright.” Dean plopped down beside you on the blanket. “You’ve got your grub, an amazing view, and the best company you could ever ask for. What else could you possibly want?”

“You’re right. Baby’s good company and all, but she’s not much of a conversationalist.”

Dean grimaced. “Just for that, I might eat your food.”

“Depending on what it is, I might let you.”

He smirked and unrolled the brown paper sack in his hand. “PB&J’s, just like Mom used to make! I asked if she could whip up a few before she flew out to make sure Sam got all settled at Stanford. She said to tell you she’s sorry she couldn’t catch you and to wish you good luck. This seemed like a, uh, better idea at the time...now that it’s been a couple of days, these might taste like shit.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you took the sandwich Dean offered. “We’ve probably eaten worse, but I appreciate the sentimental twist. Seeing as how you’re in your 20’s and you had your mom make us sandwiches.”

“Hey, I was going for authenticity! Trying to help you feel like a kid again before you start adulting or whatever and—you know what? Just shut up and eat your food.”

The two of you unwrapped your sandwiches and continued bantering back and forth between bites. Even though the bread was soggy from marinating in jelly for a few days, and it certainly wasn’t the best thing you’d ever eaten, it brought back a flood of nostalgia.

When a comfortable silence fell over the two of you, your thoughts began to drift to dozens of adventures you and Dean had had here. You gazed out over the water, watching the willow branches graze the surface as they gently swayed in the breeze. You tried to commit every detail to memory as you soaked in the peaceful atmosphere, not knowing how long it would be until you returned.

After a while, Dean chuckled under his breath, and you looked at him curiously.

“You remember that day we were pretending to be pirates, and Dad ended up coming to pick us up early?”

“Of course.”

“Man, he was so pissed when he saw us standing on top of that picnic table we managed to drag out and ‘sail’ into the middle of the pond. Sure made an awesome ship, though.”

You smiled at the memory, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I think he was a little more pissed at the fact that we left Sam playing alone in the gazebo. And obviously what made the ‘ship’ great was the pirate flag I made.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean snorted. “You mean the crappy skull you drew on our lunch bag and stuck on the end of a stick? Pretty sure we were having a blast with the ship because it was my brilliant idea in the first place.”

“I was like 8, and it was still better than anything you could’ve drawn.” You crumpled up your trash and threw it at him. “And I was having fun--right up until you pushed me off anyway. I nearly choked to death on all that nasty water I sucked in.”

“Okay, well, you shouldn’t have been trying to be Captain when I’m the oldest, and it was clearly my title to begin with. There was no plank to walk, but obviously, you had to go overboard.”

He grinned, keeping his gaze fixed on the water. As you studied his face and noticed the faraway look in his eye, his smile faded. You figured his thoughts had drifted back to his dad, who had passed away a couple of years later.

“I felt so damn bad, though. I really was afraid you were gonna drown. And Bobby was ready to kill me when he found out.”

“Lucky for you, you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

The two of you joked and reminisced for several more hours, eventually watching the sun set over the water until it sank below the horizon. When it was time to head back to Bobby’s, Dean took the long way home so you could crank the radio and sing along with your hand hanging lazily out the open window. Back at the house, you sat on the kitchen counter and talked with both men until Bobby finally bid you goodnight--but you still weren’t ready to call it a night, knowing morning would come soon and it would be time for you to leave.

After convincing Dean to stay a little longer, you grabbed a couple of old blankets and spread them in the bed of one of the pickup trucks near the house. With your head on his chest and your body tucked comfortably against his side, you chatted beneath the stars until you drifted off to sleep.

***

“Got everything all packed up?” Bobby asked.

“I think so,” you answered.

“Better double-check because I’m not driving a few hours just to bring you a lost shoe or something.”

“Is that a challenge?” you teased, seeing right through his gruff quip. “Because I bet I could talk you into it. We both know you’re not gonna know what to do without me.”

He frowned a little before smiling fondly, and you could’ve sworn there was a misty glaze in his eyes.

“Yeah. I s’pose you’re right.”

“Oh, don’t get all sentimental on me now. You could probably use a little break. Besides, I’ll be back so often you’ll just get sick of me all over again.”

“C’mere, kid.”

Bobby reached out and pulled you into a hug. Much too soon, he let go and stepped aside so you could say goodbye to Dean. His soft green eyes had been fixed on you, but he glanced away and clenched his jaw when you took a step toward him.

“So, uh...don’t forget about us when you make it big out there in the real world—catch a break as an artist or an author or some music critic.”

“Yeah, okay,” you scoffed. “I haven’t even picked out a major yet, but I think I have an advisor who can help me figure out a good fit...eventually. Maybe I’ll be a doctor—or follow in Sam’s footsteps and be a lawyer!”

“There you go. Why not just do it all while you’re at it? Jack of all trades, master of none. Whatever you end up doing, you better come back to visit soon.”

“You got it. Try not to turn into a grumpy old man while I’m gone.”

He shook his head, cracking a smile as he met your eyes. “Only a couple years older than you, brat. Anyway, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night, so I made you a playlist for the drive. Figured I might as well do something useful while I was awake. I sent it to you while you were getting ready.”

Pulling out your phone, you found a message already waiting with a link to the playlist.

“This is awesome, Dean, thank you. But if it ends up being six hours of nothing but Zeppelin, I’m gonna be pissed.”

He tossed his head back and laughed, making the knot in your throat grow once again at the thought of not seeing him almost every day. You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d miss you as much as you were going to miss him.

“Don’t worry; I think it ended up being a decent mix. Not too many classics and not too much of the more modern crap. There was, uh... a certain thought process behind each song, let’s just say that.”

“We all know some of that modern crap is a guilty pleasure of yours. I mean, Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah…” His gaze lingered until his grin faded to a sad smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you leaned forward and threw an arm around each man. Squeezing your eyes closed, you hugged them tight.

“All joking aside...you got nothing to worry about. You’re gonna kick this college thing in the ass,” Dean murmured.

“Thank you.”

Clearing your throat, you slipped out of their embrace and quickly made your way to the car.

“Drive safe--and call when you get there!” Bobby hollered.

Stealing one last glimpse over your shoulder, you waved and slid behind the wheel. You hit shuffle on the playlist, letting the music fill the vehicle while you fasten your seatbelt.

I know it’s late

I know you’re weary

I know your plans don’t include me...

You shook your head and smiled, blinking back tears at the irony of the song—the lyrics perfectly encapsulating your night with Dean.

Look at the stars so far away

We’ve got tonight

Who needs tomorrow?

We’ve got tonight, babe

Why don’t you stay?

As you started the car and drove away, seeing him and Bobby grow smaller in the rearview mirror, you finally began to cry.

Part 2

CarryOnCap Crew (Forevers):

@abswritesfandoms @amanda-teaches @cosicas-cuquis @crist1216 @droidyouseek @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @flawless-disaster @janeyboo @jenn0755 @ksgeekgirl @maresmiley @memyselfandmaddox @notyourtypicalrose @randomparanoid @rynabarnesrogers @sandlee44 @scarletsoldierrr @shann-the-artist-moon @sheerioasteroidpanda @shynara51 @someday-when-you-leave-me @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @thisismysecrethappyplace @torntaltos @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @weebid @whimsicalrobots @wintersoldierbaby @yesfanficsaremylife

Cap’s SPN Crew:

@adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278 @alexwinchester23 @chevyharvelle @deangirl7695 @dean-winchesters-bacon @fandomoniumflurry @pisces-cutie @supernaturalenchanted @superromijn @thoughts-and-funnies @waywardnerd67 @x-waywardaf-x

Miles of Mems Tags:

@bobbie3939 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @mlovesstories @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @valsworldofcreativity

Also tagging those of you who seemed interested when I posted the masterlist. I don’t want to pester you, so I probably won’t tag you in future parts unless you let me know that you’d like to be tagged!

@badlittlehabit99 @cajunquandary @devvoon @flamencodiva @hybrid-in-the-making @impalackless @janicho88 @themoonblooms

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chipper9906 · 3 years

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Bound To You - Chapter 11: Always Happy To Bleed For The Winchesters

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 7,338

Overall Word Count: 84,673

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (11/?)

Chapter Preview:

The smug, knowing look that crossed Claire’s face was not one Dean was expecting at his stuttered answer (if it can even be called an answer), the young woman turning to Kaia with a roll of her eyes and a good-natured slap to the arm. “See, what did I tell you? Knew he’d do it eventually…”

“Uh… do what?” Dean asks.

“Oh, not much,” Claire says with a grin much too sly for Dean’s liking. “Me and Kaia just had a bet going on which one of you would confess to the other first. I bet Cas would do it first. Kaia bet you’d do it first, but I said you were way too emotionally constipated to manage something like that.”

“You just cost me ten bucks…” Kaia mumbled in Dean’s direction.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

The second time Dean rides as a passenger in the Impala since… the incident… is different from the first time. That car ride home was nothing less than awkward, of stale silences and anxious side glances from his brother.

This time? Dean has a smile on his face. The mood is light, the silence replaced with soft rock blasting from the cassette player, of airy laughs from Eileen whenever he taps her shoulder from the backseat and tries to sign the lyrics to a song he’s taken a particular liking to, and Sam’s grunts of telling him to knock it off and stop distracting him; even when he’s got a smile on his face, too.

To put it simply… the hope is palpable. They’re celebrating like they’ve already got Cas back. Like they’ve already won.

Dean tries his best not to let his nerves at that show.

“You really should have let me call Jody ahead and let her know,” Sam throws at Dean over his shoulder as the sign for ‘Sioux Falls’ flashes by them.

“You telling me you’re not looking forward to seeing the look on their faces when they see me like this? And find out that Cas is chilling up here with me?” Dean retorts.

“But did you have to knock my phone out of my hands?” Sam complains, turning the Impala towards the exit ramp of the highway. “Concrete floors aren’t great for fragile glass screens, you know.”

“Your nerdy ass loves any chance to tinker with toys. I gave you a reason to replace your screen. You’re welcome.”

‘Considering you two live off of scammed credit cards, you’re very care-free with your expensive electronics.’

‘Thanks to Charlie, we don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore. Nothing better than scamming credit card companies, Cas. Bastards do all they can to bleed people dry.’

‘If you say so. Perhaps you’d see it differently if you were actually earning a wage.’

‘Oh God, I forgot you didn’t properly get to ‘meet’ the us from the other world… They got paid to hunt monsters, and you know what? I’d rather live off credit card fraud and be myself than be… whatever the hell they were… assholes had their own damn plane…’

‘Are you saying you wouldn’t want your own plane?’

‘Don’t like flying Cas. Prefer to keep my feet on the ground, thank you very much.’

‘You don’t like flying?’

‘Hell no. Trapped in a stuffy metal tube with hundreds of other people, babies crying throughout the whole damn flight, eating overpriced and stale snacks? Oh, and the fact that I’m not in control of the plane whatsoever? And even if I was - if something were to go wrong? Not much you can do but hope you go quick.’

‘Oh. I suppose it’s different for me. I love… um, I loved flying. Plus there’s the fact that we as angels were designed for flying whereas you… were not.’

‘Yeah… and you have a few billion years’ experience over me with flying. Probably as natural to you as walking.’

‘Hmm… I suppose that’s where angels and humans are different. Our ability of flight… it’s part of who we are. A major part of what makes up our true form is our wings. The ability to travel the entire globe, even to anywhere within the Universe if we so pleased – in the span of a second? I’ll admit, it was something I took for granted.’

‘You still miss your wings, huh? I mean, I know you still have them, but…’

‘But they’re broken. It’s okay Dean, you can say it. And, yes, I still miss them. I always will. But it gets easier. You adapt to these things. You learn… there’s more important things.’

‘Yeah… that’s… that’s some words to live by, Cas. Kind of wish I could have seen your wings. I mean, I know you did the whole shadow puppet thing when we first met to show off – and don’t deny that wasn’t what you were doing; I got that smug face of yours seared into my brain. Hell, not even just your wings. I wish I could have been one of those ‘special people’ who get to see your true form.’

‘You… you do?’

‘Course I do, Cas. Sure, I think of you and I see Jimmy’s face, and… well, Jimmy’s face and his body are you now, in a way, but… I don’t know, you’ve seen both my physical form and my soul, and then… I’ve never been able to see the real face of the angel I’ve fallen for.’

‘I don’t think you’d truly want to see me… an angel's true form is… ‘unsettling’, to say the least.’

‘Cas, I don’t care if you’re really ‘the size of the Chrysler building’ and have multiple animal heads like Zacharia did. You’re Cas. You could be in Jimmy’s body, in some random dude's body, your true form, whatever. It doesn’t matter to me. So long as I know it’s you in there? I’ll love whatever is staring back at me.’

‘…what if I was possessing Sam?’

‘Not only did you ruin the moment, but you made it super weird. I’m kinda impressed.’

“What are you two gossiping about now?” Sam’s amused voice brought Dean back into the present, realizing with a startle that they were already pulling into Jody’s driveway.

“Eh, nothing much. Cas just wanted to know If I’d still bone him while he was possessing you.”

“What?!” Sam spluttered, slamming on the brakes a little harder than he intended.

‘That’s not what I meant!’

“That’s messed up, Cas!” Sam turned wide-eyed to face Dean, his startled and disgusted look boring straight through to Cas. “I hope you told him no, Dean!”

‘Technically, you haven’t said no-.’

‘NO, Cas! I would still love you, but that is a line I am not willing to cross.’

“What the hell is happening?” Eileen had her arms braced against Baby’s dash, not at all expecting the rather sudden stop.

“You don’t want to know,” Sam signed towards Eileen, giving Dean one last offended look before switching off the Impala’s engine.

Sam and Eileen had only just transferred Dean from the Impala into his wheelchair when the front door to the Mill’s home swung open, an already welcoming smile plastered on Jody’s face as she took in the sight of Sam and Eileen.

“I thought I heard the Impala’s obnoxiously loud engine,” Jody joked, leaving the front door open a crack as she steps out into the driveway. “Where’s-,”

Jody’s face dropped as Sam shifted to the side, catching sight of an oddly cheerful-looking Dean Winchester sat within a wheelchair. She hadn’t meant for her mouth to drop open the way that it did, or for her mind to fully expect for Dean to jump straight out of the wheelchair and all three of them to burst into laughter at her reaction in what would be some sick prank. But he doesn’t. Instead, he wheels closer to her, the cheerful smile on his face wavering as the seconds tick by.

“Okay Sammy, maybe you were right… Probably should have warned her…”

“What is…” Is all Jody can get out at first, clearing her throat and shaking her head at the ridiculousness of the situation. “What happened?”

“Now that is one hell of a story…” Dean says with a half-hearted laugh. “And it ties into the reason we’re here.”

“I did want to tell you first, but Dean decided he wanted to be an asshole about it,” Sam offers, giving Jody an awkward wave. “Oh, and… this is Eileen.’

“Hello…” Eileen greeted the sheriff with a wave that was somehow even more awkward than Sam’s.

“Right… well, um… you should probably come in…” Jody says, glancing back to the front door. “I’m guessing you’re not just here to catch up?”

“Afraid not. We, uh… we actually need to speak to Claire, too.” Sam said.

Jody frowned at that, crossing her arms across her chest as she stared them down. Typically, when the Winchesters needed to speak to you, it was either because you were in trouble, or they were about to get you into trouble. “…What for?”

“It’s probably best Claire joins us first. Just so we can get the whole story out in one go.” Sam tells her.

“You’re telling me that the reason Dean is… you know… ties into you needing Claire?”

“Sounds weird, but yeah,” Dean says.

Jody can only sigh at that, uncrossing her arms and waving at them to follow as she turns back towards the Mill’s family home.

“You boys do like to test me…”

* * *

Dean had never felt so out of place. Sam and Eileen were sat comfortably on the couch in the living room whilst he was sort of just… off to the side in his wheelchair. Yeah, he could have sat on the couch if he wanted to, but a) he’d rather not be squashed up against Sam and Eileen, and b) …he’s too lazy to move back and forth from the wheelchair.

Plus, even though he feels bad for how distraught Jody looked at the sight of him, he still kinda wanted to see Claire’s reaction.

Sam’s right, he is an asshole…

Speak of the devil, those bounding ‘taking two steps at a time’ footsteps stomping down the stairs could only be those of teenage angst, two other pairs of footfalls following just behind, though much calmer than the ones of the blonde-haired girl that appears in the doorframe leading to the living room.

“Sup dorks-,”

It seemed that Claire is taking after Jody more and more every time that Dean sees her, considering the fact that her expression is pretty much identical to Jody’s, her eyes drawn to Dean sticking out like a sore thumb in the room.

“I know,” Dean says as seriously as he can. “I just get more handsome the older I get, don’t I?”

Claire was so frozen in place that Kaia, who had been following just behind, nearly ran into the back of her. Kaia’s eyes widened upon seeing them, partly hidden by Claire with a hand hanging onto Claire’s sleeve as what could ever be a comforting gesture for Claire, or an attempt to ground herself.

“Oh my God…”

“Nope, we took care of him,” Dean joked.

“Jack took care of him,” Sam corrected him. “We got our asses handed to us.”

“Whatever.”

“Come on then,” Jody’s voice booms from the bottom of the staircases, striding into the living room and brushing past Claire and Kaia as she went. “Apparently, we’ve got a story to hear.”

Claire finally snapped herself out of her frozen trance, taking a few timid steps into the living room with Kaia following close behind as usual. “How bad is it?” She asked Dean, unable to tear her eyes from his limp legs.

“I can’t walk so, you know, not great. Still got my arms and the use of little Dean though, so-,”

“Let’s not get too detailed,” Jody cuts him off, holding out a hand to stop him with a grimace. “Did you… did you break your back?”

“More like shattered. But, uh… probably best we go from the beginning, like Sam said.”

“Wait…” Claire stopped Dean before he could start, her eyes darting between all three of them. “Where’s Castiel? And no offense, but uh… who’s this chick?”

“Claire!” Jody scolded her surrogate daughter. “It's not a crime to remember manners every once in a while, you know.”

“I’m Eileen,” Eileen answered, the off-rhythm tone of her voice getting Claire to raise her eyebrows in recognition.

“Oh! Are you, um… hard of hearing?”

“Lost all my hearing as a baby to a banshee,” Eileen answers. “I can read lips, though.”

“A banshee? Does that mean you’re a hunter, too?” Kaia piped up, starting to shift away from her hiding space behind Claire.

“Born and raised, pretty much,” Eileen answers.

“We met Eileen a few years go on a banshee hunt – the same banshee, actually,” Sam adds. “She, uh…”

“I was killed by a Hellhound set on me by the British Men of Letters,” Eileen finishes the sentence Sam struggled to say.

“Oh…” Claire is just about able to get out, staring bug-eyed at the female hunter in front of her. “And now you’re…?”

“Don’t worry, she’s alive. And human,” Dean reassured them. “Sam went all witch-mode and brought her back.”

“You… Sam, you did what?” Jody spluttered in her mom voice.

The power of ‘the mom voice’ had Sam instinctively cowering in submission. “The spell was mostly completed already…”

“Okay…” Claire butt in before Jody could scold Sam for dabbling in witchcraft. “So… where’s Jack and Cas? Could they not make it…?”

“Technically… they’re both here, in a way,” Dean says with a grin.

Sam sends yet another classic bitch face his way. “Dean-,”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop being cryptic,” Dean mutters in defeat. “So… you remember when Jack got sick? After he died… Cas found him in Heaven. Along with the Empty… Cas decided to be a dumbass and make a deal without telling us. Jack came back and… Cas’s life was exchanged for it.”

The grief-stricken look that passed across Claire’s face had Dean scrambling to continue. “He’s not dead! Not right now, anyway. He, uh… he sacrificed himself for me. Death was coming for us – and I’m talking the literal Death here – and Cas used his deal with the Empty against her.”

“Wait, I’m confused-,” Jody interrupted Dean’s story. “What exactly was the deal Castiel made?”

“He took Jack’s place in the Empty. Except, the Empty decided it wanted to be a dick about it. It would only take Cas once he ‘experienced a moment of true happiness’, so…”

“So… Cas forced himself to experience a moment of true happiness to… save you?” Claire asked. “How does that work?”

“The Empty… kinda had a grudge against Death. When Cas summoned the Empty to us, the Empty took Death along with Cas.”

“Oh… and, um… the moment of true happiness? What was that?”

Dean’s words froze in his throat, reluctant to leave his lips. There was something about the fact that he was saying it to Claire… the daughter of the guy his angel wears… he could only hope she didn’t find it too weird…

“Well… uh… he…”

“Uh… do what?” Dean asks.

“You just cost me ten bucks…” Kaia mumbled in Dean’s direction.

“Excuse me-,”

“The only way I could see you making the first move would be to kiss Cas at some random ass time, panic that you did it, and then run away,” Claire told him, counting the events on her fingers.

“I…” Damn, she was probably right… “Uh… you knew?”

Claire scoffed at that, feeling comfortable enough to walk further into the room and drop down into the armchair opposite, leaning back against the cushioned pillow with her arms crossed. “Please. I don’t have many memories of my dad, but I remember the way he would look at my mom. Cas has the same damn look when he looks at you.”

‘Well… it IS his face…’

‘Yeah, and that probably freaks her out a little so… maybe not mention that?’

“Hey, me and Eileen had a bet going too!” Sam says jovially, the amused smile on his face slipping away as he caught sight of Dean’s fiery glare. “Sorry…”

“Alright, alright, everyone knew me and Cas had a thing for each other before either of us did. We got it…” Dean grumbles, copying the moody teenager opposite by crossing his arms, glaring at the concealed smiles of the others in the room.

Claire perks up as she picks out something Dean had just said. “Uh… did you just say we?”

‘Time to shine, Cas…’

Jody, Claire, and Kaia startle at the piercing blue light that overtakes Dean’s eyes, unsettled by the unnaturally blank and tense posture that comes over Dean. Three pairs of frantic eyes shift over to Sam and Eileen, only relaxing marginally when they see the two aren’t phased by what was happening.

The blue slowly fades away as Dean slumps back into his chair, shaking his head and blinking sluggishly as the disorientation of possession switching clings to him. He raises his eyes up, settling on Claire with a light smile that was oddly familiar to the teenager, yet looked so foreign on Dean…

“Hello, Claire.”

She didn’t know how, but she knew straight away. Perhaps it was the strained, constipated sounding way he spoke, or his voice dropping deeper (which she thought was impossible already), or the way Dean’s eyes had lost that playful and joking edge they usually held with her, replaced with a much softer and more… more fatherlike look.

“Castiel? Is that… is that you?”

“It is for now, yes,” Castiel answers. “Dean and I… we are currently sharing possession of his body. To repeat Dean’s earlier words, Dean decided to ‘be a dumbass’-,”

‘How dare you-,’

“-during a hunt and got himself injured.”

“Like… ‘shattering your spine’ injured?”

“More than that,” Sam says darkly, gritting his teeth against the harsh memory of that night. “It was a pack of Vamps that had been around for a while. And when I say a while, I mean our Dad once tried hunting them. One of them managed to get ahold of Dean and it… it shoved Dean into a rebar.”

“The rebar pierced through his back and into his chest,” Cas embellished, the others grimacing at the image. “It punctured his heart, along with a lung. And, as you can imagine, it did some devastating damage to his spine. Fortunately… Dean made the decision to pray to me. Dean saved me from the Empty, and in return, I saved his life. But… my grace is running low. I used a majority of it healing Dean’s wounds, but it wasn’t enough-,”

“I thought your grace recharged itself?” Claire asks.

“It does, usually. I’m not entirely sure the reason for it, though I believe it may be connected to Heaven’s weakened power… Either way, it’s still not replenishing itself. In fact… it’s doing the opposite.”

“You’re running out of your grace?” Claire leans forward as she says this, her brow pinched in worry. “What does that mean for you? Will you…”

“I could die. Or I may live in Dean’s body, forcing him out and killing him.”

“Oh… And, um… what happened to… to my dad’s body?”

Castiel frowned at the way Claire’s voice seemed to shrink on itself as she asks him this, for a moment seeing the frightened little girl that stood in the doorframe, asking for her daddy as an alien being takes him away from her forever.

“That’s the reason we’re here, Claire,” Castiel tells her. “I know I’ve taken so much from you already. And now… I have to ask more of you again.”

Claire shuffled uncomfortably under Castiel’s intense and sorrowful gaze. Kaia is by her side within seconds, hovering near the armchair as she senses Claire’s clear discomfort. “Is this going to be dangerous?” Kaia asks on Claire’s behalf.

“No, it shouldn’t be,” Cas answered, unable to see Sam looking uneasily at him in a quick side-glance. “I am asking you… for your permission; your permission to use your father’s body once more as my own. We believe it might be the only way to keep me alive, as transferring me to another vessel may just use up the last of my grace, but seeing as I already had your father’s permission…”

“Right…” Claire mutters, clearing her throat and dragging her line of sight back up to face Dea- no, Castiel. “I’m not going to lie to you Castiel, it’ll always be kind of weird for me. But… I know Dad’s up there with mom, and that they’re happy, and… asides from my actual dad, you’re the closest thing I have to one, so… If this means I don’t have to lose you too, then yeah. You have my permission.”

Claire stubbornly fights back the burning tears in her eyes at the watery smile Castiel gives her, always taken aback to see the once stoic and hard-ass angel showing such raw emotion.

“Thank you, Claire. There’s… one more thing I need to ask of you.”

“Actually-,” Sam interrupts, much to Cas’ surprise. “There might be two things…”

Both Eileen and Cas frown up at him, racking their brains to try and remember the extra ingredient that they apparently needed from Claire.

“We found a spell that might be able to re-create your dad’s body without needing his soul,” Sam begins to explain to Claire, ignoring Eileen and Cas’s inquisitive stares. “One of the ingredients requires a vial of blood from a relative of the vessel. And… you’re the only surviving relative that we know of.”

“That… seems easy…” Claire says, suspicious at how simple this was all sounding.

“That one should be no problem, but uh…” Sam sighs, switching his gaze over to Castiel. “Listen Cas, I didn’t want to bring this up back at the bunker because I kind of had a feeling you’d shoot it down before I could even ask Claire.”

“…Sam…. What are you talking about?” Castiel asked, already dreading the answer.

Sam sighs deeply once again, tearing his gaze away from Cas and back to Claire. “Thing is, we need to use Cas’ grace for the spell. Problem with that is that there’s not much for us to use, and… we don’t really know what could happen if we don’t use enough. The last time this spell was used, the spell caster used pretty much all of the angel’s grace. I’m guessing we need all the grace we can get, and um… I was thinking about it, and… you see, the thing about possession is that the angel typically leaves a piece of their grace behind inside the previous vessel. And, if I remember right… Cas once possessed you.”

“No,” Castiel said sternly, the harshness in his tone making everyone in the room startle at the reminder of the powerful angel in their presence. Castiel knew what Sam was getting at. He knew what this was leading to.

“It’s worth a shot, Cas,” Sam argued, not backing down from Castiel’s ticked off glare. He holds Castiel’s gaze for a few moments before breaking it, turning back to Claire as he continues. “There was a time when I was possessed myself by an angel. We were able to use a, uh… kind of like a big needle to extract the grace from me-,”

“And it nearly killed you!” Castiel spat out. “We might not even need that much of my grace for the spell. Sam, it is not worth the risk-,”

“We don’t know that. And we won’t go all the way, Cas,” Sam assured him before turning desperate eyes back to Claire. “We won’t, Claire. I promise we won't. We managed to extract some grace from me without killing me. It won't extract all of Cas’s grace, but… that extra bit of grace from you could be the difference between this experiment failing, or saving Cas’s life. It’s all up to you, okay? If you don’t want to do this, we won’t force you into it.”

Nearly everyone in the room looked uneasy at Sam’s plan. Hell, even Sam didn’t look like he liked his own suggestion, but mostly… it was a look of desperation, of understanding, patiently waiting when you’re on the edge of your seat waiting for the answer. Claire got to take this all in, along with Dean’s – or Cas’s, she supposed – conflicted grimace, unable to meet her eyes.

“What about this makes it dangerous?” Jody’s voice broke the tension. “You mentioned a needle?”

Sam nodded his head, reaching down to the duffel bag by his feet and unzipping it. All eyes in the room focused on him as he rummaged through the bag, their faces paling at the imposing metal syringe Sam held in his hands.

“The Grace has to be extracted from the neck…” Sam tells them, his own face twisting into a grimace at the reminder of his own experience. “That’s what made it dangerous. To get all the grace… you need to push the needle in further and further. But we’re not going to do that, okay?”

Sam placed the syringe to the side, picking up on how Claire was unable to tear her gaze away from the menacing instrument. “Cas can monitor you the whole time, right Cas? We’ll keep to a safe level, extracting what we can.”

Claire nodded her head, just barely noticeable, her eyes drifting across the room as she sits, lost in thought. “And… doing this… it’ll help you?” Claire directed the question at Castiel, her eyes briefly flickering up to meet Dean’s.

“I… I suppose so, yes,” Castiel begrudgingly admitted. “Every piece of my grace would help, but Claire-,”

“Then I’ll do it.”

Castiel’s mouth swung shut at her answer, taken aback by the assured confidence in her voice.

Kaia looked to Claire, torn between wanting to say what was on her mind, but also wanting to respect her decision. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” Claire insisted with a soft smile at the girl behind her. “I’ll be fine, I promise. Cas is looking out for me.”

‘Huh… you know, you and Claire have the same smile. I mean, I know it’s Jimmy’s smile, but… you smile at me like that, too.’

“I can’t say I’m feeling all that jazzed about this decision,” Jody says. “But… I also know it’s not mine to make. Just… be careful. Please.”

“I’ll intervene before even the slightest bit of harm could be inflicted,” Castiel assured Jody in that sincere grovel of his that the Winchesters know mean he’s ready to sacrifice himself if it comes to it. “I give you my word.”

“Okay, let’s just…” Claire tried not to shudder at the thought of what that needle would feel like in her neck… “Let’s get this over with…”

* * *

Claire was able to hold back a wince as the marginally smaller needle slid out from the crook of her elbow, barely even able to get a glimpse of the puncture wound it left behind before Jody was swabbing at it with the gauze from the first aid kit.

She did get a glimpse of the small glass vial filled with a dark crimson liquid that was once running through her veins, now held in Sam’s hands. He carefully screwed the lid back on the top, avoiding spilling any of what was – technically – a precious ingredient to them now.

“Never liked getting blood tests taken…” Claire mumbled, rolling her eyes at the brightly colored care-bears band-aid that Kaia stuck over her arm.

“Better than having to slice your palm open a few thousand times for spells,” Sam said, handing the vial over to Eileen for safe storage. “Makes handling weapons a pain for a few weeks…”

“Maybe you guys should just keep bags of your blood around or something for that,” Claire joked from the couch. “With how often you guys get injured, it would probably be useful.”

‘Doubt a bag of blood would have fixed my heart, but it’s the thought that counts.’

The joking smile on Claire’s face disappeared the second the ridiculously big syringe was back in Sam’s hands, the sight of that long and sharp needle sending chills up her spine.

A small smile of sympathy hitched at Sam’s lips at the clear apprehension on Claire’s face. He takes the few steps over to the couch where Claire was sat, followed closely behind by Cas as he wheels himself next to Claire.

“You might want to lie down for this,” Castiel tells her. “The procedure is… unpleasant.”

Claire swallowed nervously at his warning, shifting around on the couch until her head was resting against the mountain of pillows that Jody had quickly built for her, placing trembling hands across her stomach as she waits for something that’s going to be – well, ‘unpleasant.’

Her eyelids flutter shut at the comforting touch of Castiel’s hand on her forehead, able to feel the gentle hum of Castiel’s grace just beyond the skin of his hand. It was weird to think that it was searching through her body, taking account of her pulse, her rate of breathing, the smallest sign that something was amiss.

“Are you ready?” Sam’s voice filters through her thoughts. Keeping her eyes firmly shut, she nods her head. She didn’t want to see the needle again. She especially didn’t want to see it going in her neck…

‘Unpleasant’ was not the right word, she very quickly decided. In fact, ‘unpleasant’ was pretty damn far from the word she would use to describe the burning pain that takes over every other sensation in her body. ‘Unpleasant’ was a word used for heartburn, or when you scrape your knee falling off your bike as a kid.

She finds her hands digging into the couch underneath her, gripping onto the soft material in a vice-like grip. She has no doubt that Jody isn’t going to appreciate the gouge marks she makes in the expensive leather with her nails, but that’s a problem for future Claire. Right now, present Claire has to focus on remembering how to breathe, on keeping the scream that wants to burst out from her lungs settled in place, on easing pressure in her jaw as she clenches her teeth in case she ends up biting her tongue.

The needle slides in further and, somehow, the pain gets worse. She didn’t think it could, but oh boy, was she wrong. It’s a damn miracle she’s able to bite back the scream, but even her tightly clenched eyelids were unable to stop the few tears that squeezed their way out. There’s a hand brushing through her hair – likely Jody’s – and another hand gripping onto hers almost as tightly as the other is burrowing into the couch – one she knows for sure is Kaia’s. She almost can’t feel them, but… they’re distractions. They take away from the pain in just the slightest, but quite frankly, she’ll take as much as she can get.

“That’s enough.”

Dean’s voice had never been so relieving to hear, even if it was in that freaky deep voice that sounded like Dean trying – and failing- to mimic Castiel’s. You wouldn’t think the feeling of a needle slipping out of your throat would feel good, but anything was better than the agonizing pain she had just been going through.

“There. It’s over.” Sam’s relieved voice finally gets her to pry her eyes open. The sight of the wispy, cloud-like blue gas shifting around within the syringe is almost mesmerizing to see. That grace was inside her – still inside her, in fact – and she had no idea. She can never feel it, it’s just… there.

Seeing five heads peering down at her was rather jarring, even if she knew they were doing it out of worry for her. “Jeez, could you guys back up a bit? I promise I’m not dying…”

“Technically, she’s telling the truth,” Castiel said, his hand slipping away from her head. “I can’t sense any permanent damage done. You might feel somewhat weak for a few hours, possibly a day, but you should recover fairly quickly.”

“How are you feeling?” Jody asks, the worry in her eyes remaining despite Castiel’s diagnosis. She offers a hand to Claire, who gladly takes it, allowing herself to be pulled up into a sitting position.

“About as well as you can after having a needle in your neck…”

‘I think she takes after me more than you, Cas.’

‘You passing on your sarcastic deflections is not something to be proud of, Dean…’

‘Hell yeah it is. Being honest is for losers.’

‘Huh…. For so long, I worried that Jack was going to take after Lucifer… I should have been more worried he’d take after you.’

‘Damn. Don’t get me wrong, that was a great burn, but also… screw you.’

‘Actually, I was waiting for you to do that.’

‘Ha, that’s… Wait, wha-,’

“This spell of yours better work after all that…” Claire tells Sam, getting one last look at the vial of Castiel’s grace before it joins the other vial of her blood that’s tucked away inside Sam’s duffel.

“Thanks to you, it just might,” Sam responds with a grateful smile.

A flash of blue pulls Claire’s gaze away from Sam, glancing over to see the last second of Castiel before being greeted by eyes she knows belongs to Dean Winchester. She can only grunt in surprise when Dean’s arms are wrapping around her back, yanking her towards in a rather clumsy and awkward hug.

“That’s from both of us,” Dean says quietly in her ear, his arms tightening around her side.

Claire chuckled at the unusual softness Dean was displaying, along with the fact that Dean was very nearly dragging her off the couch with his hug. “You went back into the bad place to get Kaia back, so… only fair I did what I could to get Cas back to you.”

Another laugh bubbled out as she felt the heartfelt hug turn into more of a tense hold, patting Dean’s arm in sympathy at what she knew was going to be an awkward question from Dean once he pulled away from the hug.

“Uh, actually, about that… Me and Cas were kinda wondering…”

“Just try and reduce the number of times you two suck faces around me once you get Cas back,” Claire tells him, much to Dean’s – and Cas’s – horror. “It’s gonna take me a while to not see it as you kissing my dad…”

“I’m not too sure what I just walked into, but it sounds like a juicy topic.”

The new voice in the room gets everyone to jump, those with weapons tucked away pulling them out in a smooth practiced motion, training them on the unexpected newcomer. Sam’s eyes widen over his pistol’s iron sight, lowering the gun instinctively once his brain registers that the woman smirking over at them was someone he knew.

“Rowena?” Sam splutters in surprise, gesturing for Jody to lower her own gun – which she did somewhat reluctantly. “How did you-,”

“Just a heads up deary, your devil's trap has been damaged. Think you might have some little micey’s nibbling away at your floorboard.” Rowena tells Jody with a sweet smile and an equally sweet-sounding voice.

“Who the hell are you?” Jody asks, pistol still held firmly in hand.

“Rowena. As Samuel over there just stated.”

Jody’s eyes narrow at the stranger in her living room. Sam’s judgment was the only reason she had her gun pointed to the floor, and not at this fiery woman. “Okay, I’ll be more specific; what are you?”

“Centuries-old witch. Freshly created damned soul. Demon. The Queen of Hell.” Rowena’s impressively fake friendly smile only widens at the discomfort that washes over Jody with every new title she provides. “Take your pick.”

“Sam...” Jody takes a step back from Rowena, instinctively moving closer to where Claire and Kaia were – nearly bumping into Castiel in the process.

“What are you doing here, Rowena?” Sam asks her, sensing the need to defuse the situation before Jody starts shooting.

“What I said I would do,” Rowena answers, sauntering over the armchair Claire was occupying not long ago and dropping into it like it was her own home. “Imagine my surprise when my demons pick up on an angel's grace on Earth that’s not occupying a vessel. I sent some of my men to investigate and… what do you know, they report back to me that the Winchester’s are involved. I could only assume this is a part of your little plan to save the angel?”

“I have a name,” Castiel grumbles from his spot by the couch, mostly blocking Claire and Kaia from view.

“Oh! I suppose that means Dean’s been placed in the timeout corner for the time being?”

‘…the timeout corner…?’

“If you’re asking me if Dean is currently the one not in possession, then yes.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, you guys are friends with a witch?” Claire leans away from Castiel to try and get a better look at the witch that was currently sitting in her favorite chair.

“Ah, well, you know the saying,” Rowena mused out loud, leaning back against the comfortable pillows of the armchair. “Keep your friends close…”

“Yeah… and I’m guessing you’re a powerful enemy to have?” Claire asks.

“Good instincts, that one,” Rowena notes to Jody.

“You still haven’t explained why you’re here,” Eileen interrupts, bringing Rowena’s attention over to her. “You were able to sense Castiel’s grace and… then what?”

“As I said, I can only assume this is a part of your plan to bring back Castiel here. I did say I’d help, didn’t I?”

“You? Are willing to help them?” Jody asks incredulously.

“Aye. It’s only fair I help them after they got me killed.”

“Um… you say that like you wanted to be killed?” Kaia asks.

“Oh no, not in the moment, heaven’s no. But it turned out that dying was the best thing that ever happened to me. No mother should outlive her child, but… it’s only right that I should take over my son’s throne, isn’t it?”

“Your son? Your son was the former king of-,” Jody stops as her brain makes the connection, looking between Rowena and Sam in disbelief. “Crowley? Crowley was your son?”

“You’re acquainted, I presume?”

Jody huffs out a laugh at that. “If you call trying to kill me on the first date ‘acquainted’, then yeah.”

“Ah, that sounds like my son… Both the ‘killing’ part and the ‘trying’… poor boy had so many ambitions, just always failed to reach them…”

“Are you saying your son ‘trying to kill me’ is an ambition-?!”

“Alright, alright, let's -,” Sam quickly jumped between the two ladies to defuse the tension, sensing an argument that could only end poorly. “Yes, we found something. One of the Men of Letter’s – our grandfather, actually – managed to create a spell with the help of a witch back then, uh… Anikka Whitmore?”

“Ah, Anikka…” Rowena drawls out the witch’s name, shaking her head in what Sam could only assume was fake pity. “Shame what happened to the poor girl… She just needed to help people… had a soft spot, you see… Every witch worth her money knows that helping the needy just attracts unwanted attention. She found that out far too late, I’m afraid…”

“Yeah, we… we found the pictures…” Sam says with a wince. “Actually, I have the spell on me right now…”

Sam hurriedly searched through his jacket pockets, pulling out the little folded square of delicate paper and rushing over to Rowena to hand it over. Rowena took the paper with careful hands, long nails unfolding the old paper before taking in the written spell.

“Hmm… Ah, that makes sense… perhaps a bit risky using angel's grace, but… the human blood should help to temper the grace’s volatile power…”

“Does it… does it seem like it will work?” Eileen asks, unable to stop herself from worrying over the fragile paper crumbling away in the witch’s hands.

“I don’t see why not, considering it says here that the experiment was ‘technically’ a success… just not in the way this poor lad was expecting…” Rowena tells them, handing the spell back over to Sam – much to Eileen’s relief. “Except…”

‘Ah, dammit. Of course there’s an ‘except’. Another ‘but’, or ‘however’. Always something… ’

“I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, boys. But I have to say it. The amount of grace is… it’s a problem. The grace is essentially the power of this spell. It’s… it’s almost like the glue that puts the body back together. Creates new atoms, replicating DNA from the blood, then binds it all together. And since you said Castiel doesn’t have much of his grace left…”

Rowena’s sentence drifts off at the sight of Dean’s eyes flaring blue, watching as Castiel fades away behind green eyes. Those blank, unoccupied eyes quickly shift to ones of worry, of impending doom as Dean Winchester once again takes control of his body. “It’s not going to work…?”

“I’m not saying that,” Rowena said gently, keeping her gaze focused on Dean alone despite the four other pairs of eyes staring at her. “It’s hard to know for sure when I have never performed the spell myself – as well as it only being done once. There’s every chance this could work with the grace you have, but…”

“Don’t sugar coat it for me,” Dean insisted, his voice coming out weaker than he intended. “We need to know the risks.”

“If it’s not enough… the spell will break apart mid-way through. The body will begin to disintegrate back to nothing as the grace burns away, and once it's empty? That will be it. Castiel will be gone.”

“Is there anything you can do?” Dean asks. Though, ‘pleads’ would probably be a more apt word… “Something that can boost the spell?”

“There’s nothing I can do myself, no. The spell is simple enough, able to be cast by whoever. I’m afraid it won’t matter who casts it, as the power of the spell all comes down to one ingredient: the grace.”

“What about using another angel's grace, or-?”

Rowena stops Dean's blabbers with a shake of her head. “It has to be the grace of the angel that possessed the vessel. Unless another angel possessed the vessel?”

“Uh… that would be Lucifer…” Sam mumbled uncomfortably.

“Ah. Probably best not to go down that route…”

“So… how likely is it that… that this isn’t going to work?” Dean asks Rowena. “What’s the chance that…”

‘That I’m going to lose him,’ Dean thinks the words his mouth can’t voice.

“There's a chance,” Rowena's answer doesn’t make him feel any better. “But you want my honest opinion? Make sure you say all you need to before the spell. Don’t leave regrets.”

Rowena stood up from the armchair, feeling an unusual pang of sympathy in her chest at the crushed look on the elder Winchester’s face. “If you do make it back to the land of the living, Castiel? I expect an invitation to the wedding.”

And with that, Rowena was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving behind a room of uneasy stillness. Perhaps, in another world, Dean would roll his eyes at Rowena’s parting comment. He'd brush off whatever snarky comment Sam would add, perhaps even make a joke of his own, pretending he wasn’t picturing what that would be like; a private wedding, most likely, small and familiar, just the people he cares about most.

He doesn’t want to picture that in this world, though. Maybe even just a few hours ago, he’d let himself delve into such dangerous indulgences, of things he never thought he'd have. Hell, things he didn’t even know he wanted.

Now, though… what was the use of imagining such things, when in a few weeks he might just be falling asleep clutching the trench coat of who was once the husband in those dreams?

Next Chapter - - - >

#destiel fanfiction #Destiel #destiel fic #destiel fanfic #destiel fixit #destiel fix it fic #fix it fic #castiel/dean winchester #castiel/dean #casdean #supernatural spoilers #season 15 spoilers #angst #fluff

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roswelldetails · 4 years

Text

RNM 2x13 - Mr. Jones

EPISODE SUMMARY:

SEASON FINALE — Having realized that a deadly threat has infiltrated CrashCon, the busiest event of the year, Liz (Jeanine Mason) realizes that she can’t save everyone she loves — and with Max (Nathan Dean) facing immediate danger, she and Isobel must make a heart-wrenching choice. Meanwhile, Michael (Michael Vlamis) finds himself caught up in the conflict between Jesse (Trevor St. John) and Alex (Tyler Blackburn) once again, even as Maria’s (Heather Hemmens) life hangs in the balance elsewhere, and Kyle (Michael Trevino) faces a moral dilemma when the enemy requires medical attention. Jeffrey Hunt directed the episode written by Christopher Hollier & Carina Adly MacKenzie (#213). Original airdate 6/15/2020.

DETAILS:

The episode opens with Isobel trying to hold back the fire. They don't actually show Rosa convincing Liz to go stop the explosion. But she runs up to Isobel and explains her science:

"I have to activate the ingredients first, but once I introduce my solution to the system it should kill the cellular matrix."

Liz literally squirts the console with her "solution".

Rosa is doing CPR on Max and praying. Max wakes up just as Kyle runs up. Immediately Max directs Kyle to Flint instead of himself. It's interesting. When Max previously killed with his hand, in 1x06, he instantly knew that he killed the drifter. This time he wasn't sure (and he didn't. We eventually learn). Rosa and Kyle take Flint to the hospital.

Meanwhile Helena is saving Charlie's life.

"Jesse Manes was the only one supposed to get hurt."

Which is...not what happened. Jesse, Flint, Max, Maria...even Liz got hurt. She burned her hand on the console.

Maria is being rolled into the hospital. She got there really really fast. Cam is by her side.

Liz is still squirting her solution onto the console. It turns red. Liz asks Isobel to get people away but Isobel refuses to leave Liz alone.

Jesse, Greg, Michael, and Alex are still mid-standoff.

"Gregory, listen. You and I have had our differences in the past, but you should stand with me now."

"You're not well, Dad."

Jesse hits Gregory with the atomizer and appears to knock him out. He tries to shoot Michael, but Alex tackles him.

"Guerin, get the atomizer! Get it away from my brother!"

"Alex, I can't."

Jesse gets the upper hand in the fistfight with Alex and steals Alex's gun. Turns to shoot Michael again.

Liz makes more solution and squirts more of it on the console. This time it starts to crack. Isobel pulls Liz to safety and the console shrivels and dies.

The dying console just doesn't work as well in still form, so @maxortecho giffed it for me! Thank you!! 😘

Max runs up to them.

"You disabled it. You saved everyone."

"Is Flint dead? Did you kill him?"

He looks at Liz with some heavy heart eyes for her being the hero. She looks at him with fear.

Back to the Maneses and Michael. Jesse has a gun on Michael. Michael has the atomizer.

"Drop it, Guerin. Drop it!"

There's a gunshot. Jesse Manes falls and Michael has blood on his face. Gregory shot Jesse from behind.

"I should have defended you from him a long time ago."

"There are no more Manes men left."

Jesse dies.

Indeterminant time jump. Liz is late for work.

"Sorry, Javi. I just...I haven't really been sleeping."

"You've said that every day since CrashCon. You still having nightmares? …Did you read the papers this morning."

"Oh, I've kind of been trying to avoid the papers."

"Did you hear about that veteran who died at the carnival? They're going to have a parade, build a statue. Did you know he was disabled?"

Customers at the counter are discussing CrashCon:

"The CrashCon discourse is saying aliens invaded and killed the guy."

"That should be good for tourism."

"Newspaper said it was smoke inhalation though."

"He was making sure all the kids got out safely and the smoke overwhelmed him."

"We need more people like him."

Soooo much to unpack here. And most of it is addressed by Helena and Rosa's exchange at the end of the episode. But the big question to me is… who is spreading the rumors and covering this up? Is it Flint? Is he even well enough to take the lead on that? Is it someone else with Project Shepherd that we haven't met? The mayor? I mean, Jesse was shot! There was a lot of blood! Plus, remember what happened in 1x11 and 1x12: it's a small town. People notice gunshots.

Liz goes to take a table's order and, surprise! It's Diego. Who had gone back to Denver after CrashCon. He brought Dr. Margot Meyerson to Roswell to meet Liz.

Michael is visiting Maria at the hospital:

"What are you doing?"

"Oh they cut your bracelet off during surgery. How are you? You look better."

"Liz has been dropping by every day to inject me with witch serum."

"Ooh the synthetic nucleotide excision repair genomogenate? We're lucky you're only part alien, otherwise there wouldn't have been enough left of you for her to save."

"Listen, do you think you could use your telekinesis to open this box? Mimi left it when she visited. It's a family heirloom, but she forgot the key."

"Mimi hasn't exactly been leading you in the right direction lately. Her psychic visions led you toward a bomb instead of away from it. Seeing you like that -- all sick and pale and quiet -- I started praying."

Max and Isobel are at Max's house. Isobel is studying the photos of the console and alien symbols.

"I wish I understood why Louise and Nora would spend a year building an alien weapon of mass destruction."

"I don't think it was a bomb. I think it's a communication device. It's like a remote, you know, it just happens to be combustible."

"Are you mad at me, Max? Did I do something wrong? Is it that we're not related, or are you upset about the abortion? Because I…"

"Whoa, hey, God no."

"Because you're not talking to me."

"You're not the only one. I didn't want everyone to worry, you know, 'cause I've been taking some of Liz's antidote. And things are coming back to me. Little flashes, sort of, mostly. Like vague memories."

"Michael said that you kind of zoned out when you touched that alien bomb...remote thing. Did it trigger a memory?"

"When I touched the console, I heard whispers that I could almost understand. All right, it's like the same with those symbols. I mean it's like their meaning is just beyond reach. Except for one word. I took this from Graham Green's display at CrashCon. See that? It's an aerial photo of some crop circles from Roswell in 1948. This farm belonged to a guy called Jones. Pretty sure it says savior... This is my name. Maybe that means you and Michael's parents weren't the only ones that survived the crash. Right, maybe I had a family too. You know, maybe my mom was just across town."

"Max. I really wish that you could just focus on the present. You know, I mean, as a recently deceased man, I really feel like you should be enjoying the simple pleasures in life, you know, like reading nerdy books, the smell of leather, and that feeling when you wake up before your alarm and the person you love is still asleep and they're kind of snoring a little bit. It's like the best thing that ever happened to you. Stuff like that."

"I want all those things too. But I feel like if I only know half of myself, I'm only half living. And I know you understand that, Iz, because I've watched you this year become your entire self. And it is so beautiful. Okay, I am not at all mad at you. Are you kidding me? I am so proud of you. I am so proud that you're my sister."

Michael and Alex in the shed. For all that the shed is such a key location in this show's canon this is the first time we've seen it since 1x06.

"Maria made me bring food over. I gave it to Gregory. Seems to be holding up okay."

"Everything my family touches turns to crap. My dad used to talk about how my Grandpa Harlan built this she'd with his bare hands when he was, like, seventy. For a long time it was my safest space. And the one night my dad destroyed it."

"You're right. This place sucks."

Michael and Alex start destroying the shed. In the next scene Michael breaks a floorboard revealing a skeleton. The skeleton is wearing dog tags, so Alex grabs them. In his shirt pocket Michael spots and grabs the key to Maria's box. The tags say Eugene Manes III. So this is Tripp's body. Which confirms for Alex that his grandfather killed Tripp.

Max and Liz are walking in the plaza.

"I don't understand the violence, Max. Flint could have had brain damage given how long he wasn't breathing. You risked your life to hurt him and he had already thrown the weapon away, Max, so why? I can't get that image out of my head. You trying to kill Alex's brother."

"I know. I snapped. Last year Noah told me that we were energized by killing and not by healing. Even then I knew he was right. I… Obviously I can usually fight that, but I guess this time my better angels just didn't show up."

"We have to stop keeping secrets from each other, Max. There's a scientist in town. She's a supervisor at Genoryx. She has a job for me in California. She's offered to sponsor my dad's citizenship. And it could put me in a position to help Rosa too. I mean, I'd be able to do a lot of good with the grant money they're offering, and I know that all sounds too good to be true, but…"

"It sounds like someone finally realizes how valuable your mind is."

"I think that a change of scenery will be so good for us. I mean, we could get a place by the beach and you could write."

"You want me to come with you?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, I mean, I just told you I have this killer instinct, and you want me to come to California with you."

"We'll figure it out. Okay? We'll figure all of it out together. Run away with me, Max Evans?"

"Anywhere."

Max goes to see Cam at work. She picks on him for getting arrested and has his mugshot as her desktop background because friends!

Max asks about Charlie.

"Yeah she texted me from a burner phone that she was all right and then she vanished again."

Max tells her that he has a doctor's appointment and then asks her to do some undercover work for him.

Michael visiting Maria at the hospital.

"So Alex thinks Harlan found out that Tripp was an alien sympathizer all that time and he offed him."

"So Mimi must have known that you would find it. That's why she left the box. Look, I know you don't trust my mom's visions, but I was the only one who could grab that atomizer and run with it. If it had been you, you'd be dead."

Maria takes off the bracelet.

"What are you doing? Maria, that prevents brain damage."

"I'm only part alien, but it is a part of me. Even if it's dangerous I can't just turn off a piece of myself."

"So I'm supposed to sit around helpless as you fade away? Maria, I cannot watch you disappear. I love you."

"I love you too."

"So can we just let this go?"

"You have it wrong. Mimi hasn't disappeared. Yes she can be inconvenient, she can make people uncomfortable, but maybe she's supposed to be an uncomfortable inconvenience that saves lives. And now I need to be inconvenient, and I don't want to be someone that hurts you. I think that we should find out what's next, apart from each other."

"Wait, so you think that if we break up, I'm gonna be able to stop caring about you?"

"I learned so much, being with you. You sacrificed yourself without hesitation when Alex needed you."

"I would have done the same for you."

"I know. I don't doubt your capacity for love, 'cause you made me so happy this year. And I loved being someone that made you happy. I just think that we should leave it be, before I wonder if someone else could make you happier. Open the box, Guerin. Let's see what comes next.

Skip forward to the Crashdown where Michael has the box in a booth with Alex and Isobel. He opens the box and pulled out a journal, which they in turn read aloud.

I did a separate post on the journal's content and the Tripp and Nora flashbacks here:

Kyle visits Steph in the hospital

"What do you think will happen?"

"What do you mean?"

"When I die, idiot."

"You know, Socrates thought that death was a blessing, because only one of two things could happen. Either consciousness ceases, and it's like falling into a dreamless sleep. Or you go to where all who have died before you have gone. Your loved ones, people you admire. If you lived a good and just life, you will be surrounded by goodness and justice, in a place without fear. Sorry. I thought a lot about this when my dad passed, so I…"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that I'm putting you through this again."

"No...I want to be here."

Liz interrupts them. She clearly wasn't expecting Kyle to be there and comments on Max's appointment. Kyle gets up to leave.

Diego and Margot are talking in the Wild Pony:

"I was very impressed with her work when we first pursued her, but when I met her today, not so much."

"Why? 'Cause she had a little ketchup on her uniform?"

Undercover!Jenna staggers up to them and spills her drink on them, tells Margot that she's beautiful, and plants a listening device.

"Anyway I think we should move on."

"Okay, wait a sec. Liz has been working on something recently, but she signed this NDA. Although I guess she can't be blamed if we took a peek, you know? Without permission."

The line that will haunt me for the next year. Kyle to Max while showing him what appears to be chest X-rays.

"You know what I'm saying here, right Max?"

Cameron calls:

"You were right. It is too good to be true. Diego just told some woman he can get her access to Liz's lab. He must have followed her there."

"Well, there's a security system."

"The way he's talking, it sounded like Diego's pretty certain he can get access. They just left here, Evans. You need to tell Liz to get anything incriminating out of there - now."

Max arrives at the lab and immediately sees that the security system was manufactured by Genoryx. He uses his powers to break the system and get into the lab. He quickly searches through all of Liz's records and then pours what appears to be gas or lighter fluid or some other flammable substance all over the place and then uses his powers to set a fire.

He listens to the notes on Liz's recorder, which by the way has 22 minutes of recording on it. Some of what we hear:

This is my record of the dissection of specimen NB.

... immunoglobulin harvested from alien DNA can be transferred to a human recipient.

Commence dissection of the dorsal side of the spinal nerve.

I hypothesize that the female specimen's plasma…

Bracken's seminal cells indicate a pH level double that of a human counterpart.

I'm now extracting the grey matter to measure alien voxel signals.

Note that Max doesn't seem to have any chest pain this time when he uses his powers.

Right as Diego and Margot show up the lab explodes.

Max comes home to find Michael and Isobel waiting for him. He's clearly exhausted and upset after the lab.

"Can whatever this is wait until tomorrow?"

"Jones? That's the guy who grew the crop circles in the shape of my name."

"Nope. We spent the day reading Tripp Manes' journal. Caffeinate, Max... Okay, so, when I asked Sanders about this photo of Nora, he said he didn't know whose hand this was. He was all, Mr. Bernhardt, Mr. Jones, Old Man Gibbons. Could've been anybody."

"Ten points to Hufflepuff."

"So in October '48, Nora decided not to finish building the ship with Louise. She decided to go to the reservation with Tripp."

"But then little Walt convinced her to go to the fall festival, where after successfully avoiding him for a year, she finally ran into the alien stowaway who had crashed the ship. He'd been masquerading as a farmer."

"Mr. Jones."

"Tripp saw Jones approach Nora, and he recognized him from the night of the crash, but he didn't have a chance to ask Nora about it before Harlan called for a raid on the farm."

"Yeah. And after the massacre, Jones was never heard from again. Crop circles were all that was left."

"If you were in hiding, why would you grow corn in the shape of an alien symbol?"

"Maybe they just grew that way. It's the same way that this symbol just shows up everywhere, you know?"

Michael reveals his tattoo and it's the first time Max has seen it.

"Wait, when did..?"

"Oh, I got it when we weren't sure if you were coming back. It didn't feel like it was ever gonna be the same again."

"All right. There. Now can we all cowboy up and focus, please? Let's feel our feelings after we've solved the mystery of the unknown alien. After the raid on the farm, Nora was held by Project Shepherd."

Note...not actually accurate. Michael didn't get the tattoo until Max was out of surgery.

See Journal and Flashbacks post for the flashback.

Jenna and Charlie reunite. Relevant quote to remember:

Liz and Rosa find the destroyed lab. Liz sees the fractal burn that indicates that Max is the one that destroyed it.

"I fought so hard to become who I am, and I just trade her in every time I get scared? No. I don't want to be on the run anymore."

Back to Max's house:

"Whatever happened to that thing that she and Louise were building out in the desert? I mean, did she ever tell him where it was or what it was?"

"Nope. And when Tripp asked Louise about it, she was silent."

Liz walks in and interrupts.

"Why'd you do it, Max?"

They go into the bedroom to fight.

"I'd been asking you for weeks to clear out that lab, okay? I knew it wasn't safe."

"Alex installed a military-grade security system."

"A system designed by Genoryx, okay? Diego could have hacked it. He could already know everything."

"And his nefarious plan is to what? Set us up with a condo in L.A.? Give my family a second chance?"

"Okay, I have a family to protect too."

"Yes, and you could have stopped Diego without destroying a year of my work!"

"I had to act fast."

"So your first instinct was to go with the one method that would break my heart?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking about your heart when I'm staring at jars with Noah's liver and his brain. I mean, what else did you harvest from us, Liz?"

"Those are just cells. I wasn't hurting anyone. I don't know what you thought love was gonna be like when we were 17, but it isn't just sunsets and horseback rides."

"You can't put this all on me. Okay you were sneaking around behind my back…"

"I apologized. I stopped. Max, you died this year. I was all alone because of a choice that you made, but still every single thing I did was for you and about you and with you. So when you were back, when I could finally touch you. When I could finally breathe. I needed to take just one moment to remember where I end and where you begin. To just be whole in who I am. I am a scientist. I am fighting for something that is bigger than me. I am trying to leave this world a better place. And I am in love with you. And right now, I hate it."

Liz leaves and Max takes another dose of the antidote.

Time jump. No idea how long or what has happened in between. Liz and Rosa on the Crashdown roof saying goodbyes.

"Dad is checking your oil and making sure you have enough chile...also you left this in our room. Mom's been texting."

"Trying to come up with a better response than, go duck yourself… You should come with me. The Ortecho sisters take California."

"I wish. But I can't. I'm going back to rehab tonight. I want to see the program through. Sorry."

"Don't be. It's the best possible thing you could have said."

"You know… Max should be your road trip buddy. You love him. You're gonna forgive him. Besides, we both know if you try to leave town without him again, he's just gonna show up with some big, grand romantic gesture to stop you."

Open mic night at the Pony. Alex and Kyle have a drink together.

"So how does it feel to have your father's murder officially avenged?."

"Feels like my dad's still dead. Flint should be okay. He'll live to become the new Jesse Manes."

"No he won't. I'm not gonna let it happen."

"After everything you still believe in redemption?"

"Well, I have a pretty good example of it right in front of me."

Alex sings his song. Michael, Isobel, Greg, and Forrest are all there listening.

Flash to Kyle going to Steph's hospital room. The bed is empty...because she's up doing her makeup, her hands steady.

"Your hands are better. Did they give you morphine?"

"I woke up this morning feeling incredible. Look at my chart. My numbers are up. It's a miracle."

"Or just really good science."

Liz is preparing to leave, her suitcase beside her in the empty Crashdown as she stands at the juke box one last time. Kyle runs in.

"What you did was reckless. And dangerous. And unethical, Liz. Thank you."

Back at the Wild Pony, Michael watches Forrest listening to Alex sing. He turns to leave. Isobel tries to stop him.

"It's a sad story, me and Alex. I have to walk away so we can start a new one someday. It's not our time right now."

"But it will be."

"I think so."

Rosa walks up to a bar. She hesitates before going in, her hands shaking.

Liz buckles into her car, ready to leave. She looks in the rearview window and waits. She's clearly expecting Max to come. But he's at home studying his alien symbols. She gives in and pulls away, leaving Roswell. Her season ends with her looking out over the ocean.

Alex finishes his song and Greg and Forrest are still there and are proud of him.

"Well, damn. How do you feel?"

"Like I just sang a song about a guy in front of a bunch of cowboys, and...I don't care."

"Oh, lucky guy, with a song like that."

"Yeah it was a long time ago…can I?"

Alex and Forrest kiss.

Rosa walks into the bar. Helena is there.

"If you came to tell me what I did wrong, your sister already texted."

"Did you get what you wanted, Mom? Is your score finally settled?"

"No. I wanted everyone to see Jesse Manes humiliated and weak. I wanted him to die knowing shame. But the papers say it was a tragedy. People like him - bad white men - they die heroes, no matter what they've done. People like us - we die villains."

"Yeah I know. I've done it. But I also got a second chance. So I get to leave a different legacy. The last time that I saw you, I said that I hated you. That's not true. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, mija."

"I also told you to leave and I was right about that. Liz was free and it should have stayed that way. Manes is gone. There is no revenge to be had. No closure and no redemption. Don't come back, mom. Don't bother Liz again. I really hope you get better. Maybe you can have a second chance too."

Another possible time jump. Michael and Isobel pull up to where Max is out in the desert.

"How'd you guys find me?"

"Freaky twin thing. What's going on?"

"I took more of the antidote. Sorry, I should have called you guys."

"Save it. We are sick of being pissed at you for being so obnoxiously yourself. Why you look so scared?"

Pod Squad is investigating a cave. There's a door or opening covered by alien text with the alien symbol on it. It sorta looks like there's something behind it.

"Um, well, when I touched the alien console at the fair, something happened. I heard whispers that I couldn't understand...until now. I think when I touched it I unlocked something... Like a cage? The whispers led me here. I know it sounds crazy, but would you guys help me find a tunnel?"

"It's sealed up."

"I feel like we should learn more before we just busy that door open."

"Yeah, you're probably right."

There's a knocking sound and a voice calls out.

"Help! Is someone there?"

"If Max unlocked something at CrashCon, whoever that is has been down here for days without…"

"I need water. Please."

"There has to be three."

Note that we now know which symbol represents each of them.

The door shatters and they all react (Isobel's face is priceless).

We flash back to the mysterious stowaway/alien hoodie dude/Jones. Louise fighting him. Now we can see that it's Max. Nora kneeling after the crash with the hand on her shoulder. It's Max's face. He attacks/burns the military men/Hector Valenti.

The stowaway/Jones looks exactly like Max. Only with a really bad beard.

"Howdy partner."

MUSIC:

1. Hootie & The Blowfish "Time"

2. Tyler Rich "Leave Her Wild"

3. Clay Rigdon "That Kinda Kiss"

4. Marc Danziesen "See Yourself"

5. Gloria Hart and Art Kassel "Frankie And Johnny"

6. The Score "Legend"

7. Sarah May Byrom "Rhythm Of A Memory"

8. Tyler Blackburn "Would You Come Home"

9. The Well Pennies "The Echo And The Shadow"

10. Valerie Broussard "Dark Side"

#roswell new mexico #rnm season 2 #details #episode details #long post #rnm 213 #mr. jones

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huntertales · 4 years

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Part Three: I’ll Get You, My Pretty. And Your Little Hunters, Too. (Slumber Party S09E04)

Episode Summary: The reader and the boys call in I.T. expert Charlie Bradbury to help track fallen angels with technology found in the Men of Letters bunker. However, they soon discover something more in the form of the one and only Dorothy from Wizard of Oz. Everyone joins forces to take down the Wicked Witch and her evil plans. Warning: Mentions of past miscarriage, slight twinge of angst if you squint. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 5,340.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

NOTE: This is hella unedited, oops. All mistakes are my own. I’ll fix them tomorrow. I just wanted to get a new part out for you guys!

Charlie shouldn’t have been excited as she was to be given the opportunity to poke around Dean’s belongings while he tried and searched for the same key the wicked witch was looking for. As if today couldn’t get any better it seemed it was. She noticed right away how the older Winchester’s room contrasted his brother’s. Dean made an effort to decorate the space how he liked and made it his own. You added small touches to make it clear you shared the room like any other normal couple; a pile of your folded clothes sitting on the couch, a book you were halfway through reading bookmarked on the nightstand. Yet you gave him the opportunity to call the space his own from the lack of opportunity he had growing up. You and him had no problem making it your home. It was easier when you had memories to help you lay down your roots.

The redhead found herself smiling when she spotted a few personal photographs leaning against the desk. One was of a blonde woman holding a small child that looked to be no older than four or five, she guessed it was Dean’s mother. A rare moment from his childhood before it turned bitter for the family. The other picture was of the couple from several years ago from the looks of it. She felt her smile grow wider from the way you both looked at each other in the photo, the love you had for one another was clear in your faces. You looked at each other like a couple of kids head over heels. Even after all the tragedy and heartbreak you had to endure over the years, the love you had for one another was still going strong. Maybe it even brought the both closer together. She only wished to find a woman to share the kind of affection and adventure like you both had.

Charlie found herself drawn to a stack of magazines when she caught sight of a beautiful woman wearing little clothing luring her attention when she helped on the search to make things go faster. She quickly realized she had stumbled upon Dean’s personal stash of skin magazines that looked like they dated back into the early fifties. How he managed to get his hands on something like this was a mystery to her. She went through them to see they ranged from over sixty years ago to a little more recently. She chuckled to herself at how the man prioritized.

“You keep your porn meticulously organized, but not—” Charlie picked up the copy on top of the pile, raising her brow in curiosity to hear the man’s answer.

“Don’t judge me.” Dean defended himself from the woman’s playful teasing.

Charlie shook her head and bit back a laugh. She opened up the magazine in the middle, wanting to take a peek at the spread they had back in the day. Charlie found her attention quickly drawn away from the naked woman when she noticed something slipped out and fell down to the ground by her feet. She stepped back and looked down to see it was another photo. She reached down and picked it up, slightly fearful she might find a picture of you in a compromising position for the older man’s enjoyment, only it was worse than she could ever imagine.

Dean was the one who called her to let her know about the technical problem you and the boys were facing that left all of you scratching your heads. It’d been a few months since the last time you got in contact with her and the things you had been up to since last speaking. She asked how all of you were doing and excitedly wanted an update about the baby, you were almost due in a few months. The way the other end fell eerily silent made Charlie’s heart drop into her stomach. She was familiar with the pause between words before giving bad news.

“Y/N, she…she lost the baby, Charlie.” This wasn’t how he wanted to find out. She could hear the pain in his voice, how it cracked from retelling of the news to one of his only friends. His words had come true. What the young woman found odd was the request he had given to her prior to her arrival. “Please don’t mention it to her. We don’t like to talk about it.”

It had been over a month. People eventually move on from these things. You didn’t mention it when you saw her. You didn’t even seem sad. You acted like you had forgotten all about what happened. A blissful ignorance, or you had the best mask at hiding your grief. Not that Charlie was expecting for you to pull her to the side and explained what happened. It wasn’t her right to know the details. She couldn’t comprehend the trauma you were going through.

Losing a parent was an inevitable part of life every child would go through, no matter the age they lose them. But to lose a child before they were able to take in their first breath? It ruins people with a sort of pain Charlie hoped she never would have to understand. She remembered how excited you were for the baby. How it slipped off the tongue when you first met her, the way you looked at Dean when the both of you talked about your future plans of getting married.

Charlie regretted the gifts she had given you, the tiny outfit and the book. They would be nothing more than a constant reminder of a life that was no longer. You might have said your goodbyes and found inner peace with the situation, but Charlie still felt the need to give you her grievances. She wanted to wrap you into a tight hug and be reminded you weren’t alone in these troubling times. But Dean had made it quite clear he wanted the situation under wraps.

“How are you holding up?” Dean momentarily stopped searching from the odd question that came out of nowhere. Charlie held the ultrasound picture for a few seconds longer before tucking it back into the magazine from where she stumbled upon it by accident. “I know you said you didn’t want me to talk about it, but I gotta know. Are you guys okay?”

“We’re hanging in there.” He admitted to her. “It’s been a little while now.”

Charlie should have understood from the man’s short answer and behavior that he wanted to be done with this conversation. It wasn’t the right time to be discussing the past when you had a wicked witch running around the bunker as well, looking for a magical key that opened the door to Oz. She was more excited than anyone to have another hunt filled with magic, it was the very thing she had been searching for since she started hunting on her own. But she couldn’t help herself when her mind drifted away from the hunt and to the news that had been lingering in the back of her mind since the phone call.

“Still, to lose a baby the way she did…” Charlie had a habit of pressing further into a conversation, despite given the social and audio cues someone wanted to drop the topic. Your behavior rubbed her the wrong way for some reason. You were so excited, over the moon in fact. “Are you sure she’s okay—”

“I told you Charlie, she’s fine. You know how Y/N gets with the kinds of things. We said our goodbyes, came to terms with the things that happened. We moved on from it. And so should you.” Dean hadn’t realized the tone he used on the woman until he saw her expression change dramatically. He didn’t mean to lash out at her. Weeks of anger came boiling to the surface without a second thought. And she was the victim. A caring friend who just wanted to give her condolences, all she ended up doing was making him feel worse. “I..I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Charlie muttered. She shook her head and went back to searching, pretending like everything was fine once more. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Dean let out a quiet sigh of frustration from his short temper before going back to his search, digging through a few more artifacts until he found a small box that looked familiar. He opened it up to find the exact key he’d been looking for over the past few minutes. His lips stretch into a victorious smile. “Ah!” He quietly shouted to himself. “Yahtzee.”

Charlie looked up to see her friend discover the key. She shared a matching smile, enjoying the moment, all before it was ruined a few seconds later by an unexpected guest. Neither one of them noticed a puff of emerald green smoke sneak its way into the bedroom from the air vent and transform into the very person they were hunting. Charlie’s eyes moved away for a split second when she noticed something out from the corner of her eye. A gasp of surprise escaped from her throat at the sight of the wicked witch standing behind Dean, giving her no chance to properly warn him from what was about to happen.

Dean quickly turned around and spotted the witch, but he had no time to properly defend himself. The witch snatched the key from his grip, using her unexpected drop-in to her advantage of the situation. She easily flung him across the room with enough force to make Dean bounce off the bed and stumble to the corner of the room, knocking his head roughly against the concrete wall. Charlie had no time at all to properly defend herself. She saw the gun lying on the bed and dived forward to get it, but the witch was faster, hitting the young woman with some kind of spell that would be her demise. All Dean saw when he got his head back on straight was Charlie falling to the ground, a piece of furniture doing nothing to break her fall.

The witch let out a scream of pain when she felt another poppy bullet aim into her chest. Dean stood behind the loaded gun after firing off his only road into the witch in some kind of way to stop her. It wounded her like how Charlie said, but it was not enough to stop her. He watched as the witch disappeared the way she came, and with exactly they were trying to keep from her. Dean couldn’t focus on the trouble he landed them all in. His eyes wandered to the body lying on the ground, not moving. Not…breathing.

Dean crouched down to the ground so he was at level with Charlie. He softly spoke the woman’s name as he pushed her so her body was now lying on her backside, hoping he might be able to see her breathe, or her eyes moved underneath her lids. Anything to show him that she was still alive. He waited a few seconds. He watched her chest to see if it would move. But she remained on the ground, lifeless. Dean shook her body, and when that didn’t work, he cradled her head into his hands. No amount of times he kept repeating the woman’s name roused her back into consciousness. Dean felt his breathing come out into shorter ones from everything that was happening.

The older Winchester picked up Charlie from the ground and carried her over to his bed, trying to get her more comfortable. He kept repeating her name over and over again, despite her only response being deafening silence. Dean gently moved a few strands of red hair out of her face, feeling no hot breath tickle his skin like how he hoped. This wasn’t happening. He couldn’t lose another person so soon. Not now, not like this. Charlie deserved so much better...He needed to find a way to fix this.

“Dean?”

Your voice echoed from out the bunker’s hall, making a blossoming sense of hope fill into Dean's chest. He knew there was someone else in your body that could help bring Charlie back to life. The name that wasn't your own slipped off his tongue before he realized the consequences that might be waiting for him down the road. All he cared about in the moment was bringing his best friend back to where she belonged.

“Zeke!” Dean called out the angel’s name when you stepped into the bedroom, checking out the room to make sure it was safe. You immediately dropped your gun down to your side as your eyes flashed blue, the angel in your body coming to the driver's side. Your body stood in the doorway and stared at the dead body lying on Dean’s bed. Dean appeared to be desperate, fearful for the young woman's life that was no longer. "You have to help her."

Ezekial approached the edge of the bed, inspecting the woman for a moment to inspect the damage inflicted upon her. The angel knew from the sight of her that she was no longer. "She's gone."

"No. You can bring her back like you did with Cas." Dean told the angel, his tone of voice making it clear it was more of a request than anything. The older Winchester was desperate, asking for a favor from the angel after someone close to him got hurt. It was starting to be a habit Ezekial wasn't happy with.

"I cannot keep doing this." Ezekiel warned the hunter.

"Why the hell not?!" Dean questioned the angel, his tone bleeding with frustration at the hesitation of the angel's willingness to help like how he had before.

"I am barely back to half strength, Dean. Every time I use my power, it weakens me, which means I will have to stay longer in Y/N, longer than you want—longer than we both want." Ezekial informed the older Winchester about his unwillingness to do what was asked of him. Dean was left at a crossroads of the choice he was to make. "The witch running around your bunker is very powerful. I can help with the witch or save your friend.”

Dean fell silent for a moment about what the right thing to do was in this situation. He took into consideration the sort of complications he’d been facing since you were possessed by Ezekial, and how your reaction would be upon hearing the death of Charlie. A woman you had doted over since you first met her. Dean swallowed and looked down at the young woman lying on the bed. He made his decision. It might not have been the right one, but he didn’t care. He was doing it for his family.

“Save her.” Dean instructed.

Ezekial nodded his head, “As you wish.”

The angel made his way over to Charlie and kneeled down on the ground so it would be easier for what he was about to do. He pressed two fingers to her forehead and shut his eyes, slowly healing the young woman from her internal wounds that lead to her demise. The wounds were far worse than the ones Cas had been endured with. Dean watched with fearful eyes as your expression changed into an almost pained out as a grunt slipped out from your mouth at the amount of power Ezekiel had to use in order to properly heal Charlie. A few more seconds before it was complete. Charlie shot up in bed with a sudden gasp of air as you stumbled back, landing roughly into the dresser that was behind you.

“Merry Christmas!” Charlie groggily spoke her first set of words after coming back to life. She looked around the room in a daze, not sure what was going on, or how he managed to get on the bed from the floor. Dean rushed to the young woman’s side and softly spoke her name, wanting to make sure everything was okay. “Hey, I know you.”

“I told you to stay in the dungeon.” Dean told the young woman of his previous warning. He felt himself suddenly be filled with a rush of relief at the weak chuckle that escaped her throat.

“Bet you say that to all the girls.” She mumbled a joke, making him smile at how she was able to joke even after coming back to life without even knowing it.

“Dean?” Your voice broke the older Winchester’s concentration from Charlie, making his eyes wander over to you to see that you were coming back around as well. Both of you not having a single clue of the events that took place just a minute ago. “What the hell just happened?”

“The witch—the witch was about to put a whammy on me, and, uh, Charle jumped in front.” Dean explained the situation to you, the lie slipping off of his tongue without a second thought. He gave the young woman a proudful smile at her heroic move. "She got zapped, and then the witch got the drop on you."

“Okay. This has been happening to me way too much.” You muttered to yourself at your clumsy behavior. You rubbed the back of your head from the rush of pain you felt from getting back up to your feet. You have been off your game for weeks now since the trials. It wasn’t like you to be so lousy. Despite your rusty hunting skills all of you were somehow still in one piece. “Then why aren’t we dead?”

“That’s a good question.” Dean agreed with you, shrugging his shoulders. He quickly thought of an excuse that might help fill in the gaps and keep you from growing suspicious. “I clipped her with a poppy bullet. She got the key. I think she’s gone.”

“No, she’s wounded.” Dorothy came out of nowhere to correct the man with some good news. She rushed down the hall and stopped in the doorway with Sam catching up to the woman a few seconds later. "We should still have some time. She could still be in the air vents."

“No. No, no. She’s right. We—we have to—we—” Charlie foolishly thought she was capable of swinging her legs off the bed and standing up without a problem. Dean managed to stop the woman from crashing to the floor when her body involentarly tipped forward.

“Just go.” Dorothy told you and the boys. “We’ll catch up.”

“My gun’s over there.” Charlie pointed over to the desk you were standing next to you. You saw it was exactly where she was, lying on top of boxes that were stacked on one another. “There’s one bullet in it.”

You warned the two women to be careful and made your way out into the hall with the boys, handing the gun over to Dean so he could have another round to defend himself if all of you came into contact with the witch again. The three of you cautiously made your way through the bunker, peeking down every hall and looking over your shoulder to make sure the witch didn’t get the drop on you again. The next time you came in contact with her you wouldn’t be as lucky.

The mystery to how you were even still breathing after your first run in with her, along with the events that landed you with a dull ache in the back of your head was starting to make you feel frustrated. You remembered making your way into Dean’s room and then waking up on the floor, everything in between was blank. It was happening to you frequently. And it was more than just a few minutes at a time on hunts. Bits and pieces from months were gone. Sometimes you tried to think about the trials, but you couldn’t remember. You wondered if your mind repressed them in some sort of attempt to protect yourself from dealing with the pain you endured. But now that it was happening more frequently...you were hearing things, it was starting to make you worried.

“Who’s Zeke?” You knew it wasn’t the proper time to drop a question on Dean when you turned a corner and followed behind the older man as his brother led. He gave you a confused look at the name you thought he might have never heard before. You swore you heard it. “When I came into your room, before I got zapped,” You pointed your gun at an empty room when you passed by another one, only to move on to the next. “I thought you said the name Zeke. Who’s that?”

"Um..." Dean mentally cursed at himself for the dilemma he found himself in. Sam turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder at his brother, wondering what kind of trouble he'd gotten himself into this time. And what excuse he was going to use in order to keep from the situation escalating. "I think you're still a little punchy, sweetheart. You and Sammy head for the front. I'll meet you two in the library."

You were disappointed from the answer you were given by Dean. You expected his response to be drastically different from what you were given...

You thought to yourself. Maybe he was right. You had been out of it for the past few weeks. You had been so stranger to the sort of tricks your mind was able to play on you. You let out a quiet sigh and followed behind the young man as you made your way to the front entry of the bunker in some kind of hope you might be able to find the witch before it was too late.

You and Sam made your way into the war room and cautiously looked around to make sure the coast was clear once more. The only people that were around so far were just the two of you. You lowered your gun slightly and looked over at the younger Winchester, remembering the conversation you had overheard when you were catching up with them after splitting up from Charlie and Dean. The both of them were discussing homes, and the lack of importance it was to them. A strange subject for the both of them to bond over. You still didn’t understand why Sam was still hesitant about letting himself feel comfortable enough to call the bunker his home. You knew he had a rough childhood of sleeping in the backseat of the Impala and strange motel rooms. But this was good as it was going to get for the both of you. Hell, it was better than either one of you could have hoped to call home for your family.

“Why haven’t you moved in?” You understood your question was poorly timed when you spoke it out loud, bringing up a conversation the younger Winchester really didn't feel like discussing right now

“Is now really the time for this, Y/N?” Sam’s tone made sure to reflect his annoyance at your conversation topic you butted heads over just a few hours ago.

“Well, I’m just asking.” You muttered in your defense.

“Look, I never had what you had with your family, okay? Or Dean for that matter.” Sam decided the truth was the most important answer to lead with. You stopped in your tracks and gave him a confused look at his response. “I don’t have any memories of home. And whenever I’ve tried to make a home of my own, it really hasn’t ended well.”

“Yeah, but a lifetime of abandoned buildings and crappy motel rooms. Not to mention living in a house all by your lonesome wasn’t exactly paradise on my part. I mean,” You let out a sigh and looked around at the bunker with all of its glory that you felt it offered. “This is about as close to home we’re gonna get as a family, and it’s ours. Why can’t you make this place yours?”

Sam found himself overwhelmed with the need to give you a reason why. He wanted to tell you the truth about how he tried to make the bunker a home, and for a little while it did. He psyched himself up with the reality of dealing with another human to the bunch. A small baby that would fill the quiet bunker halls with their cries and laughter. Make you and Dean panic when they got to the age where they started crawling, leading you to find out the dangerous things they could get their hands on in the bunker. You even picked out a room for that baby, expecting to have the chance around this time to take out all the old furniture to make it a nursery. Sam was honestly excited for the things that were to come that would make it truly feel like home. But all he felt now when he passed by that room was pain.

“I tried, okay?” Sam managed to speak out three words that might help you understand. Only it caused you to look at him with even more confusion. The look you gave him was clear; you wanted to know why. What was the reason that he couldn’t call the bunker home? He hated himself for lying to you. He hated how easy it was. “I tried for months. But I can’t force myself into believing something that doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m gonna go check on your brother, see what’s taking him so long.” You said. You took a few steps backwards, trying to hide your disappointment in hearing what you thought was the truth. It was the tip of the iceberg for the reason Sam was giving you. But you didn’t know that. “Holler if you see the witch. I’ll be back.”

Sam let out a frustrated sigh from the conversation veered into a direction he hoped wouldn’t have gone in. He should’ve known better than to think you might leave a conversational topic alone without being given the full reason. It was enough to drop it once and for all.

You retraced the steps you thought Dean might have taken, wondering what was taking him so long to catch up with the both of you. You kept thinking about Sam’s reasoning for not thinking the bunker of home as you had hoped. He pressured Dean to stay here permanently. He was over the moon to discover what this place had to offer. You guessed he couldn’t miss something he never really had. It broke your heart. You could only wish that one day Sam might be able to change his mind and find a reason to call this place his own.

When you ended back up where you split up with Dean without finding a trace of the man, you gave up on the search, deciding instead to make it back to the library where you agreed upon to meet up. You found it odd as you made your way back that you hadn’t found a trace of the witch anywhere around here. Most likely she was around here, trying to open up the door to Oz. But not without taking care of you.

You found yourself stopping in your tracks when you stumbled upon a sight of your worst fear in the war room. The witch had found the boys. She had an arm wrapped around Sam’s neck and a finger pressed against Dean’s forehead, doing something to the both of them that didn’t kill them. But put them under her spell. You mumbled a curse word underneath your breath before you booked it out of there, needing to find Dorothy and Charlie before it was too late.

You looked everywhere for the two women; Dean's bedroom, Sam's, yours. Anywhere that was close by. You managed to send off a text to Charlie in some kind of hope that she would respond as you raced around the bunker, trying to dodge the witch and the two men under her spell. You didn't know what she had done to them, and you really didn't want to find out. Luckily the red head answered your text, leading you to somewhere you didn't expect to go, a little secret you had kept to yourself since discovering it—the garage.

"Y/N!" Charlie shouted your name with excitement when she spotted you running up the stairs, and out of breath for that matter. "You didn't tell me this place had a garage!"

“Sorry. Slipped my mind. We sort of have more pressing matters." You didn’t mean the sarcasm that slipped off your tongue. You made your way to the women when Dorothy was busy rummaging around her motorcycle, looking for something. You furrowed your brows when you saw her pull out what appeared to be a severed mechanical head. “Is that..”

“Yeah. He didn’t make it out.” Dorothy said, hinting of the poor Tin Man’s demise. You watched as she frantically searched through her bag until she pulled out exactly what she was looking for. A pair of ruby red slippers. “Yes!”

“I don’t believe it.” Charlie laughed at the sight of the famous shoes. “Did you really walk down a brick road in these?”

“No. I never actually wore them. Seemed kind of tacy wearing a dead woman’s shoes.” Dorothy said. “Plus, I’m no good in heels, you know?”

“I don’t suppose we could pop those on and wish the witch away?” You wondered.

“Sorry. Another thing the books got wrong.” Dorothy said. You rolled your eyes in annoyance from how these sorts of things could never be easy as you wanted. “But, like the poppies, these have magic from Oz—sharp magic.”

“Death by shoe? Huh.” You examined the shoes both of the women were holding, the very thing that was going to kill the wicked witch. “Well, that’s not the first time I’ve seen that.”

“There you are.”

You quickly turned around at the sound of a deep, growling voice coming from behind you. You gritted your teeth from how quick they were able to find you, despite the goose chase you had to deal with before finding them here. Charlie didn’t seem to figure out what the problem was.

“Was that your Batman voice?” Charlie asked the boys, smiling to herself at the impression she thought was funny. You quickly whipped out your gun and pointed it at them when you saw their eyes glow an emerald green. “That’s definitely not your Batman voice.”

“It’s her.” You told them, pointing the weapon at the boys when they started to approach you. “I saw her possess them.”

“I’ve missed you my pretty.” The witch used Sam’s body to pass on the message to Dorothy, smiling at the trouble all of you landed yourself into. “Killing you a second time will be just as sweet as the first.”

“Guys, I know you’re in there.” You tried to somehow speak to them, hoping your voice might be able to reach them before they could do something stupid at the command of the wicked witch. "Dean, don't make me hurt you. I don't want to do this."

“Oh, but I do.” You suddenly felt a grip around your throat with a tight enough of a grip to cut off any oxygen you tried to breathe in from the unexpected attack from Dean’s hand. He used what strength he had against you to his advantage to get you out of way, even momentarily. The man tossed you across the room without much of a care where you landed. His focus landed on the red head that stood before him, looking rather terrified at what he just did.

“Dean, come on.” Charlie hoped there might be a way to speak to the man, despite her doubts when you miserably failed. “If she opens the door, she’s going to destroy Oz.”

Charlie miserably failed when Dean grabbed a hold of her and roughly shoved the woman into a window, shattering the glass into pieces. She was pinned into place with no real chance out of this. Charlie knew what kind of skills and strength Dean he could use to hurt her if she didn’t find a way to get out of his grip before it was too late.

“I have no intention of escaping to Oz.” The witch said. Charlie watched as Dean’s lips stretched into a smirk as Sam told them about her true plans she had all along. “I’m going to bring my armies here.”

[Next Part]

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xxsovereignsarayaxx · 4 years

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Supernatural - Road to Revenge Chapter 2

Authors Note: So here is the second chapter of this series and I'm really loving how it is coming together and I hope you guys too. Thank you to everyone for the likes and reblogs it very much appreciated ❤ (There is a flashback in bold) Word Count: 2908 Warnings: Some mild language.

Chapter 1

“This day just keeps getting better and better.” I said with sarcasm dripping from lips to the other person on the phone.

“Nice to hear from you too, where are you?”

“None of your god-damn business, you’ve got a lot of nerve ringing me. Considering you wanted nothing to do with me, so what’s changed this time?” I replied bitterly.

“I’m using up my ONE free call for you, be grateful…”

“Grateful? You are joking?” I shouted, getting irritated.

My shouting in the kitchen brought Sam into the room. He looked at me with concern written all over his face.

“But I feel so privileged that you decided to call me, so what did you get arrested for this time? Shoplifting? I teased.

“As much as I would love to carry on our conversation my call time is almost up.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, he knew exactly who I was talking to, and he also looked shocked that I was speaking to them. Realising that the fridge door was still open I reached in to grab two bottles of beer, shoving the phone in between my shoulder and ear I twisted the cap to the bottle and took a large swig. “You got yourself into trouble, I trust that you can get yourself out of it.” I said getting ready to hang up the call.

“Coley, wait please. Something wasn’t right and it’s...it’s your kind of weird please just get me out of here and I’ll get my shit together.”

Letting out a sigh I placed the bottle on the island in the middle of the room. “Where are you Nia?”

“Nevada.”

And with that the call dropped so either my sweet sister hung up or she ran out of time. I bent down and rested my head on the counter, letting out a groan.

“Do I dare ask what’s going on?” Sam asked me leaning against the island, handing me my beer.

“Nia got herself arrested again...I have half the mind to let her ungrateful arse rot in jail.” I said with a huff taking my beer and downing the contents.

“But she said something didn’t add up which means there could be a case or that the bail is far too much and she’s using what I do as a method to get herself out of jail...again” I added.

Sam let out a chuckle since he was familiar with mine and my sister's love-hate relationship.

“She’s family though Nik.”

“Take note of your own words Sam.” I scoffed and got up and brushed past him and went to find Dean.

Turns out Dean had given up looking for cases and research and had retreated to the ‘Dean Cave’ he was engrossed in some horror movie, I entered the room, plonking myself in the recliner next to him I swiped the bottle of whiskey he was still drinking from.

“You look happy.” Dean teased not looking from the large TV on the wall.

“Fancy a drive tomorrow?” I asked him, taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage feeling the burn as the contents slid down my throat.

“Where?” Dean asked.

“Nevada...” I replied with a grumble.

Dean turned to look at me and he raised an eyebrow as a sign to get me to explain what was going on. A look I had seen many times before.

“So you know my favourite sister Nia?” I asked, playing with my fingers.

“Nia is your only sister…”

“Well the moron got herself arrested. She claims something wasn’t right and basically is insinuating that it’s a case. I’m in two minds of going because she’s played this trick before.” I explained.

“If it is a case we can gank whatever son of a bitch it is. If not I can have great pleasure irritating your sister.” Dean replied with a chuckle.

“No wonder she doesn’t like us.” I laughed leaning towards Dean almost climbing in his seat resting my head on his shoulder.

The rest of the evening consisted of beer, whiskey and a horror movie marathon which was nice for a change. We agreed that we would leave first thing in the morning and it would be best to try and get some shut eye. Brushing my teeth in the sink in our room, Dean was on the laptop whilst laid in bed. “So it seems that there was a robbery last night.”

“Wobbery?” I asked while still having the toothbrush still in my mouth, earning a snigger from Dean I spat the toothpaste out and tried again. “Robbery?”

“Yeah seems the Monroe Art Gallery held a ‘Black Tie Event’ last night and a painting called ‘The Souls of Gabriel’ was stolen only to find it dumped in an alleyway with part of the frame smashed to pieces. According to the police reports Nia’s prints were all over the thing.” Dean explained as I got into bed, as I snuggled closer to him I looked at the police report he currently had loaded on the screen.

“Seems that Nia can’t account for her whereabouts, they even ran a tox screen on a blood sample which came up clean.” I said reading out loud. “You thinking demon?” I asked.

“Could be, we won’t know for sure until we get down there and ask her.” Dean replied, shutting the laptop and setting it on the bedside table. Bringing me closer in his arms. “I know seeing Nia again after all these years is going to be difficult Nik, I’ll be there every step of the way.” Dean whispered to me, planting a kiss on the top of my forehead. As he laid on his back I rested my head on his chest. The steady rise and fall of his chest sent me into a peaceful slumber.

I couldn’t sleep, my mind was just racing with memories of me and my older sister mainly the last time we had spoken.

Nia paced around the motel room hands on her hips, I got up from the chair in the kitchenette heading over to my sister trying to comfort her. “You're crazy! Mom and Dad should have left you to rot in that foster home, you got them killed with all this nonsense.”

Tears formed in my eyes feeling hurt by the harsh words that came out of Nia’s mouth.

“Nia...Listen to me you saw the demons…” I said as I choked on my tears.

“No Nicole! You listen! You were the reason that Mom and Dad died if you hadn’t have come into our lives they would have still been alive!” She shouted as she headed towards the door, she turned…

“We’re done.” And with that she left the room and I was left in a state of shock and upset...

I shot up awake, Dean was snoring softly - at least he was settled for once getting some much needed sleep. I turned over in bed trying to get myself comfortable when I heard a door squeak open and close and the sound of boots walking down the hallway. I checked my phone to see the time - 12:36AM. Wanting to find out what Sam was doing I carefully got out of bed, threw on a pair of jeans and one of Dean’s shirts quickly pulling on my boots and exited the room as quietly as possible, taking in a quick glance at Dean to whom had just turned onto his side facing away from the door. Slipping out the room I crept through the bunker making my way through the library. I grabbed the keys and helmet to my motorbike as that was the quieter vehicle and proceeded outside, as I sat on my bike I saw that the run-around Sam often used was missing so putting on my helmet flicking the visor down so it covered my face and then started the engine to my bike giving it a few soft revs and then left the bunker leaving Baby in the driveway.

I must have driven a few miles up the road as I saw a layby and a familiar yellow 1976 AMC Gremlin along with Sam’s car parked. I saw a figure sitting on a picnic table and a taller figure stood up. Pulling into the layby I saw two heads turn to look at me as I parked very close to the two, turned the engine off I took off my helmet shaking my long hair in the process. “I should have known you would have brought Charlie into this mess Sam.” I said bluntly.

“Hiya Nikki.” Charlie interrupted the awkward silence hopping off the table to give me a hug.

“Hi Charlie.” I replied embracing my favourite nerd.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” Charlie asks Sam as if they were continuing their conversation.

Sam looked at me nervously. “Don’t stop on my account.” I said sarcastically.

“I got hold of a codex which is sort of a...a collection of supernatural code-breaking tools and it should help crack ‘The Book of the Damned’.” I raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean that thing you got out of that safe in the suicide house you and Dean went to?”

“Yeah.”

“That would be awesome if the book, you know, actually existed.” Charlie replied.

“She’s got a point Sam you burned it when we were at the cabin having our asses handed to us.” I told him.

“It does. Uh I, um...I swapped it out right before it looked like I burned it.” Sam admitted looking down at the floor.

“Okay. Well, Dean wanted it burned. So is he pissed?” Charlie asked her voice full of concern while I was still sitting on my bike. “He doesn’t know. I didn’t know until now.” I said sternly, giving Sam a good glare.

“Look Dean’s not in the right place. He would try to stop me. He's given up, I have an expert looking at the codex as we speak…”

“If you say Rowena is your expert you need your head examined Sam, she can't be trusted.” I yelled. “Going behind Dean’s back? Did I mention that this whole thing reeks? Nikki is right she is one of the most dangerous witches…”

“If we don’t do this...this might be the only shot at saving Dean.” Sam admitted looking defeated.

The three of us stood in the cool air in silence, Charlie was the first to make a move giving both me and Sam a respected hug, got in her car and left saying that she needed some time to think it over. I knew that one way or another she would help as we were a family. Charlie saw Dean and Sam as her brothers and she would do anything to help either one of them. As her car faded into the distance Sam spoke. “I should have been honest with you.” Letting out a sigh. “Damn straight you should have, I want Dean to be back to normal just as much as you do Sam but keeping secrets and going behind our backs isn’t the way to do it.” I replied in a softer tone of voice.

“I’m sorry Nikki.” Sam said as he brought me into a hug. “Look, me and Dean are going to find Nia and get that whole situation straight with her. Use that time to find the answers you need...I just wish I stayed back at the bunker now Sam, as I now have to hide this all from Dean and one way or another it’s going to end up being messy.” I admitted pulling away from Sam.

Putting my helmet back on I left Sam in the layby, the gravel shifted underneath my tyres as I sped off back to the bunker. I loved riding my bike, it was the power and speed of how the bike played with my adrenaline and cleared my mind at the same time. Carefully bringing the bike to a stop, setting the stand so it wouldn’t tip over and scratch the paint I made my way back inside playing my helmet and the keys on the table in the war room. Trying to fix my serious case of helmet hair I heard a clearing of the throat. I turned to see Dean in just pajama bottoms. “Couldn’t sleep?” He asked voice laced with a little sleep. “Yeah this whole thing with Nia, is just keeping my head awake.” I said partly lying. While I was concerned about my sister it wasn’t the thing keeping me from sleeping. “Is that my shirt?” He asked me as he reached out pulling me to him, I collided with his bare chest softly. “Maybe.” I teased.

By 9AM we were on the road, Baby was eating up the miles as we got ever closer to Nevada. We had the best of ‘Mullet Rock’ playing on the stereo while I checked the map finding out where we were. A couple empty fast food take out cartons were by my feet as I slurped the last of my fizzy drink. Dean had the driver window down enjoying the drive. “After mile marker 90 we should be about 7 hours out.” I told him as I folded the map up and placed it on the back seat and then pulled my sunglasses down on my face to keep the sun out of my eyes. “Well we’re in no shortage of motels.” Dean said, turning to look at me briefly before bringing his attention back on the road. Taking the wheel in just one hand he rested his right hand on my thigh. I smiled, placing my own hand on top of his.

We got to a motel at about midnight, both exhausted from the drive we slumped into the room slinging our bags on the table in the kitchenette, as Dean made his way to the bathroom I fell face first onto the bed slightly bouncing when I hit the mattress. Within minutes I was fast asleep.

I must have woken up a few hours later seeing Dean sat at the table on the laptop. “Hey sleepyhead.” He said with a chuckle. Climbing out of bed I walked over to him wrapping my arms around him as I peered over his shoulder looking at the screen. “So that is ‘The Souls of Gabriel’?” I asked. Dean nodded. “Seems like it’s had quite the adventure, been in the possession of a few owners over the last couple of centuries. Rumor has it that there was a scroll hidden inside the frame. Could be why the painting itself was found in the alleyway and why the frame was destroyed. Whatever was on the scroll must be important. Dean explained. “I bet.” I murmured into his shoulder.

The next morning Dean and I were dressed in our ‘Fed Threads’ as we headed over to the police station, entering the building I noticed the hustle and bustle around and we made our way to the front desk, fishing out our fake FBI badges from our jackets we showed the officer who was typing on a computer. “Hi I’m Agent Kevin, this is Agent Perry. We’re here because you’ve got my informant by the name Nia Williams.” The officer pulled a look of disbelief. “Agent Kevin and Perry?”

“My mother wasn’t a fan either when she married my dad.” I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Nobody by the name of Nia Williams here.” The officer said turning back to the computer.

“Perhaps you’ve seen her instead.” Dean added trying to save the conversation showing the officer a picture of Nia off his phone.

“Her? Yeah she’s here but booked her in as Lila Cox, she’s cooling off in interview room 2 real temper that one.”

“We alright to speak with her?” I asked.

“I’ll get the detective who has the case.” I nodded and then the officer left.

“Lila?” Dean asked me close to my ear. “I know we have aliases but I’ve seriously lost track of the countless ones Nia uses.” I replied with a whisper.

“Agents.” We both turned to see the detective who was in charge.

“We’re here to speak with Lila Cox.” Dean said to the male.

“What can I do for you? She’s a suspect in a robbery charge. If you insinuate that she walks free, I’ll hang up my gun and badge. We caught your girl, end of story.”

I crossed my arms, altering my posture slightly to try and make myself a little more intimidating. “Detective, have you heard of a sting operation? Am I right knowing that the painting was recovered with minimal damage? Yes the frame was chipped slightly but no harm no foul.”

“Chipped? The frame was smashed, thousands of dollars worth of damage…”

“Which will be covered by the bureau, we caught the bad guy we needed, but in order to finish up the never ending amount of paperwork we need to speak with Lila.” Dean added trying to back me up.

“In the meantime perhaps you want to speak with our superior whilst we speak with Lila.” I offered to hand him a business card from my jacket pocket.

He refused the card. “No need, this way.” He said showing us the way to the interview rooms.

Thanking the detective and entering the room I saw Nia with her head resting on the table and hands still cuffed together.

“So Lila.”

#spn fanfiction #spn #spn fanfic series #spn fandom #dean winchester #deanwinchtser #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester spn #Sam Winchester #Charlie Bradbury #Orginal character #supernatural #support writers

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simpleb00x-writes · 4 years

Text

Chuck’s Angels (2)

Warnings: language, mentions of past abusive relationship and PTSD!! Nothing too graphic in this chapter but just a warning.

Pairings: future dean x reader (next chapter .. maybe...)

A/N: sorry it took so long for me to get this out to you guys. I’ve been quite busy. Again, no time to edit it. Oops. Dean is an asshole in the chapter. But i have big plans for my next chapter! Fluffy smut? Fluffy angst? Just fluff? Guess you’ll have to wait and see!

Masterlist!!

“Listen. I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.” I said as the Winchesters led me to their car. At gunpoint. The car was really nice though. Dean snorted. “Yeah sure princess. Just get in the car.” He muttered. I held my hands up in defence and slid into the back seat. Dean took the drivers side and Sam took the passenger seat. “Can I at least ring my friend to tell her I won’t be back for a while? She gets nervous pretty quick and well - things get messy.” I said. “Whatever. Just make it quick.” Dean retorted, taking a sharp turn that made an old cup of coffee almost tip over. I hated that I noticed all these little things.

“Brooke? You there?” I asked into the phone. “Yeah, you almost done?” She replied. I sighed and looked at Dean through the rearview mirror, his green eyes pointed straight ahead at the road, his jaw clenched. “No not really. Listen, I won’t be home for a while.” I said. “What!? Y/N!!” Brooke shouted and I winced. “I - I have a friend to meet. In Iowa. It came up last minute, I’m sorry.” My voice was cracking and I was clearly upset. So clear that I got a look from Dean. “Oh... Iowa? As in.. you need me to-,” Brooke started. “Yes.” I whispered quietly. “Alright. Got it. Stay safe y/n.” She said before hanging up. Little did the Winchesters know.. Iowa was our code word for danger.

“So.. where are we going? Top secret base? Old warehouse? Don’t worry I settle in quite easily.” I said after almost three hours of silence. “Well right now it’s late. So we’re going to a motel and I’m having a drink.” Dean said in a condescending manner. I scoffed. “Alright then.” I said. Sam hadn’t said a word since the pharmacy. I knew everything about the Winchesters. Sam had (or has) demon blood in him. Dean is the true vessel for Michael, the archangel. He’s also hooked up with an angel called Anna. They’ve stopped the apoclypse. Probably more than one. And they have major family issues. Not to mention Sam’s girlfriend/fiance burning on the ceiling. The same way their mother died. I know so much more as well. They don’t know that I know any of these things, and I’m going to keep it that way. For all they know, I’m clueless.

About an hour later we pulled into a motel that actually looked quite nice. It had a bar with neon lights outside, matching the ones on the massive signs outside. The building was three stories tall and made of brick. By looking at it, I’d say there was at least fifty rooms. As I got out of the car, I became very aware of how I looked. Short dress, heels, briefcase. The two boys were wearing more casual attire, and it made me stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe I could convince them to let me buy something more comfortable. We’ll see.

Once inside, Sam went up and asked for two rooms. I looked around. Posters and pictures in fancy frames. We were in Nebraska. Which made sense, considering the pharmacy was in South Dakota. I knew we were travelling south. Maybe towards Kansas? Or Texas? God I hope it’s not Texas. That’s a long drive. I took a map and a brochure just in case. “Hey. Princess.” Dean said with a whistle. I glared at him. Sam lead us both up the stairs and to rooms 34 and 35. “They’re two double rooms. The guy said that’s all he can offer at the moment. So what’s the plan?” He asked.

“Well one of us has to go with Bernedette. Or else she’ll - you know - run for it.” Dean said. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Wow. You know my name.” I scoffed. “Bite me.” He said without missing a beat. “Anyways. I agree with Dean. Who wants to stay with her?” Sam said. Dean stood and thought for a moment. Jesus, how much thinking has to go into this? “I will. You’re too soft Sammy. She’ll walk right over you.” He said after a while. “Okay. See you guys tommorow.” He said timidly as he gave Dean the keys. Dammit. At least if I was staying with Sam I had a chance. Dean was right about one thing, Sam did seem soft and I might be able to ‘woo’ him or something.

“M’lady.” Dean said as he opened the door for me. I scowled and walked in. The double bed took up most of the room, it had black sheets and the pillows were a dark crimson. There was a three seater sofa over to the right of the room, facing the regular sized television. On the left, a small kitchen and a dining table with black leather seats. The walls of the room were painted gray, and there was a door that I assumed led to the bathroom.

“Wow.” I said. Dean grumbled past me and threw his duffel bag onto the bed. “Yeah about that. What am I going to wear for the next while?” I asked. He sighed and sat on the sofa. “I dunno. We’ll stop at a shop tommorow. Tonight you can just borrow something. Or sleep in your underwear. I don’t mind.” He said. “You’re disgusting.” I said back. “No I’m pissed. I could be downstairs flirting with a perfectly dumb blonde, but no. I’m up here babysitting a member of a fucking girl gang! What are you guys anyways? Charlie’s Angels or some shit?” He barked.

His sudden aggression made me nervous. They took my blade a while back and that’s all I had to protect me. Sure, I was good at martial arts, but not that good. Not against a big guy like Dean. Have you seen the build he has? I tried to think of a responce, but I couldn’t. The more I kept looking at Dean sitting on the couch, the more memories it brought back. The more I began remembering the more I began panicking and soon I wasn’t the brave smart-ass chick I was in the car. I was y/n y/l/n. The girl troubled by her abusive boyfriend of three years. The girl who was so broken and so alone. That was before Bernette Hill came along. That is who I am now. Bernette Hill, the ass kicking, bad guy fighting, leader of nations. That was me.

I felt the tears starting to brew. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. “I - I’m going to take a shower.” I said quietly. I was in the bathroom and had the door slammed behind me before Dean could say anything. I turned the shower on and stripped. Tears dripping down my body. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t had a meltdown like this in months. And of course. Now would have to be time. Marigold told me it was PTSD. That agressive men made triggered me and that I couldn’t handle it. I wasn’t sure about that. But I guess it makes sense.

#castiel #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #sam winchester #spn

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destiel-love-forever · 5 years

Text

About Damn Time

@adoptdontshoppets asked for "13 smut or angst is good here"

#13 "And you didn't think it would be a good idea to tell me?"

Two days before Dean Winchester marries another man, him and Castiel have a long overdue conversation.

Read below or on AO3: About Damn Time

About Damn Time

Castiel's voice shakes, even though he practiced this speech for two hours with Charlie the night before. They had been drinking tequila at the time.

He'd kill for tequila right now.

"Dean, I," Castiel pauses before clearing his throat. "I'm so happy for you and Benny. Really, I am. And I hope you guys have a wonderful life. But I can't be your best man. I know - I know this is last minute but I just - I just can't. I can't be at your wedding at all, actually. I think it's best for our friendship if I were to stay home."

Dean stares at him, reeling. He's still holding Castiel's bow tie he had come over to deliver. Benny had wanted the colors to match so they ordered them in bulk.

Castiel doesn't want his. He's not letting Dean give it to him.

"I don't understand. I - Cas, what happened? Did something- did Benny do something? Did I do something?"

"No. No, Dean. I just can't be there. I'm happy for you, I am, but…"

"But what?" Dean explodes, crushing the bow tie in his hand.

"It's too hard."

Dean's face turns red and he chucks the stupid bowtie across the room. "Too hard? Too hard, Cas? I've been there for you your entire fucking life. Through everything. It's always been us against the world. And now you don't feel like coming to my fucking wedding? Why?"

“Because I- Dean, I’ve-” Castiel's voice cracks, and his stomach flips as he realizes what he needs to say is going to be too hard. He should have known he wouldn't be able to do this. Not without Charlie and tequila.

“You’ve what, Cas? Huh?”

Feeling overwhelmed and completely out of control, Castiel nearly shouts, “Stop being angry!”

“Stop being like this, then. Stop acting like this. You’re supposed to be my best friend.”

Castiel deflates. “I am your best friend.”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“I’m in love with you, you idiot!" Castiel screams at him. His face heats up but he latches onto his anger, ignores the embarrassment, and continues. “I’ve been in love with you since second grade. You sat down next to me on the first day and asked why I looked so sad. When I told you my family didn’t have enough money to buy new crayons for the year, and all my old ones were broken, you smiled and brought out your little green container and told me we could share.”

Dean takes a step closer to him. “Cas-”

“And when that asshole chased me around on the football field in sixth grade because he found out I was gay and thought it’d be hilarious to tackle me and kiss me while all his asshole friends watched, you tracked him down and gave him a bloody nose. I lied and said I was a part of the fight too, so we got detention together. We spent the whole time passing notes and you made me smile and laugh under my breath even though all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry.”

“Cas-”

“And ninth grade, when you made the football team and had all those popular friends and cute girls fawning all over you but you still included me, insisting I come to the party after the homecoming game. We all played spin the bottle and when it landed on us I told you that you could get a pass and everyone laughed awkwardly but you just shook your head and yanked me into a kiss. A real kiss, too. Not just a peck or a quick brush of lips. But an actual kiss.”

Dean takes another step, his hand reaching out. “Cas, please-”

“And after that night when we were drunk and walking home you held my hand. But then the next morning you told me you didn’t want us to be like that, and I didn’t want to lose you, so I agreed. And when you got a girlfriend a few months later, I said I was happy for you. And when you came out as bisexual our final year, I brought you to your first pride parade. And when you dated your first boy, I gave you advice. And when you came home for Christmas during college, you brought home that dick bag that would always put his hands all over you and acted like he owned you and would yell at you and hold you a little too tight, pull you a little too hard, I was the one to tell you to break up with him. The one to help you when he got stalkerish and aggressive. The one to go with you to file that restraining order, even though I had to drive six hours because our colleges were far apart.”

“Castiel.”

“And now? Now you’re gonna fucking marry someone else. So, yeah, Dean. I’m not acting like your best friend right now. I’m acting like the guy who’s been in love with you for nineteen years. And that guy? That guy has a right to be fucking pissed.”

Dean’s face twists in anger. He shakes his head, taking another step closer. His voice is lowered and cold as he slowly tells Castiel, “That guy has no right to be pissed, because he kept secrets even though we always promised not to. He lied. He broke a promise. And now he’s sabotaging my wedding.”

This sends Castiel past anger and into rage. “Sabotaging your wedding!? All I fucking said is I can’t be your best man. I can’t do that, Dean. I can’t fucking stand beside you and watch as you marry him! I know you can’t understand, I know you don’t know what it feels like, but it would kill me. As my best friend, even with you not feeling the same as I do, you have to see that. Being there? It’ll destroy me. Is that what you want, Dean? Do you want me to be this completely wrecked mess?”

Surprisingly, the anger in Dean’s expression softens to something closer to frustration. “Of course not, Cas. I - I know how it feels. Sort of. I mean, not on the huge scale like a wedding, but I know. And it’s devastating. So I understand. And I wouldn’t expect you to be there.”

“You know how it feels? When has Dean Winchester ever not gotten what he wanted? Especially when it comes to relationships or sex.”

“All my life.” Dean takes that final step, closing the distance between them. They breathe each other’s air and it feels so normal. So right. It’s how it’s always been. It’s how it should always be. “Since I met you."

Castiel stumbles back but Dean follows him. "No," Castiel whispers, shaking his head.

"Yes."

"You - you feel the same way about me? You-" Castiel swallows, his mouth suddenly dry and his eyes suddenly damp.

Dean grabs Castiel by the hips and pulls until they're flush together. Since Dean's taller, Castiel has to tilt his head up to look at him. His breath catches when he finds Dean's brilliant smile.

"I love you," Dean whispers softly. Castiel stares at his lips, wondering how many times over the years he imagined those words coming from that mouth.

He thought he'd be happy.

He thought he'd be relieved.

He thought he'd be launching at Dean for their first kiss.

He thought he'd be smiling.

Instead, he feels ready to explode. Using both hands, Castiel shoves Dean back, not even feeling guilty afterward. His mind is hyper-focused, and he's pissed. "You're in love with me? And you didn't think it would be a good idea to tell me?"

Dean stares at Castiel in shock. "I - I didn't want to fuck our friendship up. I didn't want to lose you."

"But when you find out I love you, you start yelling at me about keeping secrets and lying? How does that help you not lose me, Dean? How does you treating me like that lead to our friendship staying intact?"

"I don't know, okay? I don't know. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I just got overwhelmed. You were saying what I had wanted you to say for so fucking long, and I was pissed that we've wasted all this time."

"I know." Castiel looks down at his feet. "I'm sorry I pushed you and yelled at you."

"It's fine, Cas. Seriously."

Letting out a tiny laugh, Castiel peers up at him through his eyelashes and half-shrugs. "It's not like any of this matters anyway. You're getting married in two days."

Dean looks at him, lost but hopeful. "Am I?"

Something dark twists in Castiel's gut. A mixture of guilt, happiness, anger, hope, and god knows what else, making him sick. "Dean, I'm not that guy. I'm not a homewrecker. If you marry him, I promise we can still be friends. I just can't be at the wedding."

"Cas-"

"You're getting married, Dean. You have a hall booked and the gazebo and the tuxes and the flowers and the stupid fucking DJ and pricey caterer and," Castiel deflates, feeling his entire life breaking in this moment. "You're getting married."

"No, Cas. I don't think I am."

Castiel nearly hyperventilates. "Dean, this is your life. You have to think about this."

"No, I know this is what I want."

When Dean reaches for Castiel, Castiel jerks away. He backs up and shakes his head. "I think you should take some time. I - this is big and I - I just," he blinks rapidly to avoid crying. "Just take the day, Dean."

Before Dean can argue, Castiel is out of the apartment.

----

Castiel wakes up to Dean crawling into his bed. Half-asleep, he tries to find the switch for the lamp, but then Dean is straddling him and he can't reach.

It doesn't matter.

"What'r you doin'?" Castiel slurs as he tries to gather his bearings. He knows it's Dean, not just by the fact that he's the only other person with a key to Castiel's apartment, but also because of his smell and the sound of his breathing and the way Castiel's skin tingles every time it contacts his. What he doesn't know is why the hell Dean Winchester is crawling into his bed at - he groans when he looks over to check the alarm clock - 2:47 AM.

"We need to talk."

"Dee, it's the middle of the night."

"I know."

"So go 'way."

"You told me to give it the day ." Dean allows more of his weight to push down on Castiel, anchoring him in place. "Now it's night ."

"Dean -"

"It's over."

Now very much awake, Castiel lifts his head off the mattress to look at Dean. With his eyes adjusting he can now make out the muted outline of the man above him. "What's over?"

"Everything. Me and Benny. The engagement. The wedding. It's done."

"Just like that?"

"Cas, it was always supposed to be you. I needed it to be you. So, no. Not just like that. This has been building for years. Decades. Don't you think it's about damn time?"

"Yeah," Castiel whispers, reaching for Dean. He grabs his shirt in two tight fists and yanks Dean forward for a heated kiss. Against his lips, Castiel growls, "Bout damn time."

They move as easily as water, their bodies in sync in every way. Dean shifts his weight as Castiel sits up. Staying in Castiel's lap, Dean grabs Castiel and pulls him into another kiss, his fingers digging into Castiel's bare skin. They break apart. Breathe. Castiel removes Dean's shirt, runs a hand through the hair he knows is probably a mess, then takes Dean's face and kisses him.

Dean lays Castiel back down, his head nestled into the pillow. He kisses him gently, deliberately, as Castiel's finger blindly work his pants open and off.

Castiel sleeps naked. Dean didn't wear underwear. The two hiss as their hot, leaking cocks first come into contact. Then they're frantic.

They kiss each other like the other has stolen their oxygen and they're determined to get it back. Nails dig and claw at backs, and shoulders, and ass cheeks. Teeth nibble at bottom lips, and necks, and earlobes. Cocks brush, and slide, and twitch.

It's unspoken that Castiel will be the bottom. Dean's hands go to his thighs and Castiel doesn't need to be told, he just wraps his legs around the man he loves and continues to kiss him. He feels a cock nudge his hole and rolls his hips to encourage him.

"Condom," Dean pants. "Where?"

Castiel throws a hand out to the side and slaps at the bedside table, unable to reach the drawer. Dean leans to grab the condom and lube, and Castiel groans as the movement rubs Dean's cock perfectly against his hole.

Shivering, Castiel tries to hold still and be patient as he listens to the sexy as fuck sound of Dean lubing his condom covered cock up. He feels a fingertip at his entrance and grumbles he doesn't need prep but Dean just chuckles and slides in. He realizes Dean isn't preparing him when the man hones in immediately on his prostate, like the spot inside Castiel is a magnet drawing him in. Dean rubs and strokes. He adds a finger just because he wants more pressure against that spot that's making Castiel's breath hitch between whimpers.

"Come on, Dean," Castiel half-growls, half-begs. "We've waited long enough."

Those are the magic words. Dean pulls his fingers out and lines himself up. He presses a firm, possessive kiss against Castiel's lips as he slowly enters him. The feeling is exquisite. They were clearly made for each other. Barely any resistance or pain, just full pleasure with the perfect burn.

Dean bottoms out and the kiss turns rough. Hungry. Desperate.

They're back to claws and teeth. Dean doesn't go easy on the man he loves, he knows how strong he is. He knows Castiel can take it. He fucks into him with abandon. Castiel pulls him in tight, lifting his hips to match the movements, panting and begging for more.

At some point, Dean pulls out. He flips Castiel over and yanks him to his hands and knees, then enters him again. This time every stroke hits the man's already stimulated and swollen prostate. He grins as Castiel's moans start to choke off, sounding closer to sobs.

When Castiel collapses to his elbows and reaches down to stroke himself, Dean falls apart. He tightens his grip on Castiel's hips, knowing they'll leave bruises but unable to care, and pistons inside him four more times before losing himself. He stills, seated as deeply as possible inside Castiel, and spills into him.

Through the haze of his orgasm, he hears Castiel shout a second later. He feels the man's body shudder, his hole getting so tight around Dean's cock that it milks him for another two squirts of cum.

When they collapse, Dean adjusts so he falls on his side instead of onto Castiel's body, turning Castiel onto his side as well so they can lay spooning while Dean continues to rest his cock inside him.

They both pant for at least a minute before calming down enough to let the moment sink in.

"Wow," Castiel finally manages to whisper.

"Mmmm." Dean kisses the sweaty spot of skin behind Castiel's ear and smiles. "Yeah. I think we're gonna be good at this."

"Definitely."

Once they clean themselves up, Dean pulls Castiel back into a tight hold. Castiel rests his cheek against Dean's chest, throwing an arm over Dean's stomach and a leg over Dean's leg. Just like while having sex, their bodies fit together perfectly. Castiel swears as he listens to Dean's heartbeat that it sounds exactly like his own.

After a soft kiss to Castiel's temple, Dean whispers, "Cas?"

"Hmmm?"

"Will you marry me?"

Castiel smiles against his chest, still too sleepy to open his eyes. "It's about damn time."

#destiel #dean winchester #castiel #pining #angst #smut #mutual pining #childhood best friends #love confessions #prompt fill #saving people writing prompts

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firefly124-writing · 4 years

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Something Bright to Dispel the Gloom

Title: Something Bright to Dispel the Gloom Fandom: Supernatural Pairing/Characters: Dean/Cas Rating/Warnings: T, spoilers through SPN 15x07 Prompt: <a href=https://imgur.com/OWsPHZj>poinsettia</a> Summary: A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever. A/N: Written for the AdventDrabbles community on Dreamwidth to the prompt poinsettia.

AO3 Link or

The drive to Salina had been mostly just Zeppelin at full volume. A road trip to Salina had sounded like a good idea when Dean had suggested it. Cas hadn’t been back for long, though, and this was shaping up to be the world’s most awkward road trip ever. Dean wasn’t sure what he’d say if he and Cas tried to have a conversation now. The list was just too long and too impossible.

“Dean,” Cas cut into his thoughts, “can we stop here.”

Dean slowed and pulled into the thrift store parking lot. When he cut the engine, he almost turned the key back to be able to keep the music going, but then decided maybe he should go in. Christmas was coming, after all, so maybe he should be thinking about gifts sometime before Christmas Eve. So instead, he locked up the Impala and followed Cas inside.

To his surprise, Cas grabbed a shopping cart and simply began piling coats and sweaters into it.

“Cas?” Dean asked.

“It occurred to me that it would be potentially divisive to bring one sweater to a group of homeless men,” Cas said. “I do not think there will be enough for all, but perhaps at least for all who do not have sufficiently warm clothing.”

“Dude, how are you gonna pay…?”

Cas held up a credit card Dean had never seen before. Had he picked up the skill to create his own now?

“Charlie,” Cas said. “Apocalypse-world Charlie helped me with this. I believe this purchase will remain within the parameters she cautioned me to observe.”

Dean wondered about that, but he knew better than to pit his own computer against any version of Charlie.

All thoughts of Christmas shopping long gone, Dean followed Cas to the cash register. The clerk dutifully rang everything up and was telling Cas to swipe his card, when Cas reached to the side and grabbed a plant. A poinsettia. Dean wasn’t entirely sure it was real.

As they loaded up the car, Dean questioned the add-on.

“The shelter is very drab inside,” Cas said. “At least, I presume it still is. A bit of seasonal color may help those who are suffering from depression. Something bright to dispel the gloom.”

Dean winced. He should’ve known when Cas had a particular shelter in mind that it was one he’d personally been to. Stayed at.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as Cas slid into the passenger seat next to him.

“Sorry for what, Dean?” Cas asked. “Throwing me out of the bunker to protect Sam? We’ve been over that. Or is there something more recent you’d like to discuss?”

Dean pressed his lips together and turned on the engine.

Once they’d dropped off the donations and said goodbye to the cheerful fellow who ran the place (and apparently knew Cas and had way too much to say to him out of Dean’s earshot), it was time to head back. Dean was getting hungry, but that was the last thing he was going to bring up right now. He could last till they got back, or maybe he could grab something when they stopped for gas. Again.

About a mile out of town, he finally cracked.

“All of it,” he said. “I’m sorry for all of it. For blaming you for Mom. For Rowena. I was pissed at the world, but none of that was on you. I had doubts about Jack too. And I should never have trusted Belphagor.”

“I still do not understand how the fact he wore Jack’s face inspired trust in you,” Cas said. “I realize you could not see his demonic visage as I could, but you did not trust Jack. Why in the world would you trust a demon wearing his corpse?”

“I didn’t.” Dean shrugged. “Just… it’s all too big. Too much. So tackling one problem at a time, first the ghosts and then the demon, that was the only way I could think to do it.”

Silence fell for the next couple of miles.

“I forgive you, Dean,” Cas said. “I have and will always forgive you.”

“Thanks, man.” Dean ran his fingers through his hair, not taking his eyes off the road. “Are we good?”

“I don’t know.” Cas sighed. Dean wondered about that sometimes. Was that just a habit of his vessel left over from Jimmy? Cas didn’t need to breathe, much less sigh, and yet he did. “I would like for us to be ‘good,’ and yet it seems every time we begin to work well together, something goes wrong, and you hold me responsible.”

Yeah, Dean could see that.

“Mary told me, once, that she was glad I had come into your and Sam’s lives. That she had always told you when she put you to bed that angels were watching over you, and now she knew it was true, even if she didn’t trust most of them anymore.”

Dean felt like he’d been poked in the gut with a salted knife.

“I didn’t tell her this. Perhaps I should have. But now I need to tell you, Dean. You know full well that I am not perfect. I am at least as fallible as you are.” Cas paused as if considering his words carefully. “Just because you were told as a child that angels would protect you, something we have all failed repeatedly to do, that does not mean I deserve to be treated as though everything wrong in the world, everything that goes wrong in your life, is my fault.”

Dean swallowed a couple of times before he could speak. “Is that what I do?”

“Your mother gave me great insight into your early life, which I think has shaped you in ways you do not recall or realize. Yes, I believe that is exactly what you do.”

Dean chewed that over for the next dozen miles or so.

“I know I can be a dick to you,” he said finally. “I’m not sure if that’s why, but it kind of makes sense.”

Cas didn’t say anything. When Dean stole a glance at him, the angel was looking straight ahead.

“I can’t promise I’ll never fuck up again. But I can promise to try not to take shit out on you.”

“Then I think,” Cas said, “we can, perhaps, be ‘good.’”

It was less than Dean had hoped for, but more than he probably deserved.

When they had to stop for gas, Cas volunteered to man the pump so Dean could take a leak and pick up something to eat. When he went to check out, Dean saw a display by the register that had little poinsettias like the one Cas had bought earlier. By the time he got outside, Cas had finished filling Baby’s tank and was back in the car. When Dean handed him the fake flower, he looked surprised.

“What is this for?”

“I know Sam and Eileen kind of did up the library,” Dean said, “but last time I checked, your room is still kind of ‘drab.’ Thought you might like some seasonal color to brighten it up.”

The smile Cas gave him in reply was all the brightness Dean could ask for.

#spn spoilers #spn 15x07 #destiel #adventdrabbles #profoundnet

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 5 years

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Boyfriend and Girlfriend Ch. 7

Title: Boyfriend and Girlfriend Ch. 7

Pairing: High School!Sam x High School!Reader AU

Word Count: 2227

Chapter Summary: Sam and Y/N goes to the party. Things get a little complicated.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Slight Crack, Explicit Language, Misunderstandings, Insecure Reader.

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: This is another chapter inspired and motivated by @supernatural-jackles’ SPN Weekly Writing Challenge. It’s week 9, and as usual, I’ve used both prompts: 1) “I swear it was like that when I found it!” and 2) “Promise me you’ll stay.” Once again, it was a challenge to incorporate the prompts, but I am so happy I was able to do it! Thanks Jen for hosting this! I know it can’t be easy, but you’re doing a great job! xx

UPDATE: I lied. I thought I used both prompts, but I guess I had deleted the first part. SO it only has the first prompt in it... I hate myself right now. lol. *crying*

Two hours. You were two hours away from home, sitting in Dean’s Impala, behind a row of cars, in an unfamiliar place. You and Sam were surprised when Dean had offered his precious Baby, but before you left, he pulled you to the side when Sam wasn’t looking and whispered in your ear, “If things get too much, you can hide out in the Impala.” It all made sense. Dean did it for you. He knew you were a little uncomfortable, and he gave you something to feel comfortable in if something were to happen.

Sam opened your door, taking your hand in his, giving it a little squeeze in reassurance that everything was going to be okay. He was aware of your reluctance and uneasiness, but he has been doing everything to ease your mind. So far, it was working.

Sam lead you through a lawn that seemed to be tediously taken care of. The house was big, definitely someone of wealth. “Who’s house is this again?” You asked.

“Jess. She’s cool. You’ll like her,” he smiled.

“Right. Jess. Okay.”

Sam opened the door and instantly, you swore you could feel the wind from the vibration of the thumping music coursing through the entire house. “Whoa,” Sam stepped back a bit. “They definitely do things differently here,” he chuckled. You only gave him a wary look. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

“It’s certainly different,” you murmured, finally.

“C’mon. Let’s check it out. If we don’t like it, we’ll leave, I promise.”

Sam lead you further into the house, people drinking, talking, shouting, laughing, and just doing all the typical teen party shenanigans. There was no doubt about all the stares Sam was attracting from a lot of the girls, probably thinking how a girl like you managed to snag a total catch.

“The guys are staring. I don’t like it,” Sam huffed. Your eyes widened as you looked up at him.

“What?” You had to ask, unsure if you heard correctly.

“I don’t like these guys checking you out,” he admitted. You took a quick glance around the room, and he was right. There were guys staring at you.

“They’re probably just wondering who we are. Nothing special,” you told him.

“No. They’re definitely checking you out. I don’t like it. If they keep staring I’m going to –”

“Sam, do you notice all the girls looking at you?” You cut him off.

“Never,” he grinned. “The only girl that had ever mattered to me was you.”

You rolled your eyes at his statement, unable to stop the giggle that needed to get out. “You’re such a dork.”

“I’m serious. Back in school, every time you’d even look in my direction, my heart felt like it was going to burst. I’d hope that your eyes would land on me, but when they never did, I always stayed hopeful. I don’t know what it is about you, but you hold the strings to my heart.”

“I’m telling Dean what you just said, you sappy puppy.” You giggled as Sam pulled you into him, wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Sam! You’re here!” A girl squealed, causing you and Sam to pull apart. When you turned, there standing in front of you and Sam was a tall gorgeous blonde with beautifully tanned skin. You were sure your jaw dropped to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. You hoped that that wasn’t Jess. Please let it not be Jess.

“Jess! Hey!” Sam left you to give her a chaste hug.

It was Jess…

“And you must be Y/N! Sam wouldn’t keep his mouth shut about you. It was really cute,” she beamed, hugging you. She even smells good.

When she pulled away, your insecurities came rushing to the forefront and all you wanted was to go home. To hide in the Impala and hope that the night went by quickly. She was this sparkling beauty. Standing beside her, you felt like a child. You were much shorter, your breasts weren’t as big, she was fuller in so many ways than you. And her smile. It was so bright that it was almost like staring into the sun. She was flawless.

“Come on, let me introduce you to everyone,” she smiled down at you, hooking her arm with yours, while Sam took hold of your free hand.

It surprised you how quickly you started to loosen up and feel like yourself. It definitely helped that Sam wouldn’t let you go. He was constantly touching you, holding your hand, resting his arm over your shoulders, and sneaking little kisses here and there. If you were on the outside looking in, you’d be jealous of yourself.

“You guys are adorable,” Jess chimed, smiling widely.

You have come to find that she was one hundred percent genuine. There was nothing malicious about her. She was literally perfect. She was sweet, looked like a goddess, incredibly intelligent, funny, and by the looks of the party she threw, she was most likely bound to win Prom Queen. And Sam was right. You did like her. It was damn near impossible not to. She seemed more interested in getting to know you than mingling with her other guests, and she didn’t once stop to ogle at your boyfriend. Jess was really nice and respectful to you.

Hours passed and you were actually enjoying yourself. You and Sam even got on the dance floor, moving together in perfect synchronization. The only time you ever danced was in your bedroom all alone when no one was home, or at Charlie’s house when you and the other girls somehow managed to get into her parent’s liquor cabinet. From all the times it happened, you were able to find out a few things about yourself. First being that you were actually a pretty decent dancer. Secondly, whiskey made you emotional while tequila would most likely get you thrown in jail. Lastly, you and your friends were a bunch of light weights, which was why alcohol was off limits for you. And you were going to be the DD if Sam decided to have a few drinks, which he only had one so far.

In the middle of your dancing, you had to excuse yourself to use the restroom, but when you came back, you weren’t prepared to see what you saw. Jess was dancing with Sam, her arms wrapped snuggly around his neck, body pressed flat against his, and whispering in his ear. They laughed before swaying. They shouldn’t be that close together right? She shouldn’t be clinging to him like that if it was platonic right? He wouldn’t allow her to be so close if he cared about you right?

You took one step back, bumping into so someone and spilling their drink. “Hey, watch it would ya?” The guy shot. That was all it took to gain Sam’s attention. His eyes widened as he shoved Jess away lightly.

If him and Jess dancing didn’t mean anything then he wouldn’t be looking at you with guilt, right?

“Y/N—” Sam called out, rushing his way over to you, but you ran. This was the first time your tiny figure came in handy. You were able to dodge and squeeze through the crowd with ease while Sam had to push his way through.

In a flash, you were outside heading over to the Impala. When you pulled on the handle, you cursed at yourself. Of course it was locked. Of course Sam had the key. Of course a guy like Sam could ever really be interested in a girl like you.

“Y/N?” It was Sam. As childish as it was, your body moved before you could resist the action. You hid behind another car. “Y/N!” Sam shouted.

You sitting on the gravel ground, leaning against some person’s random tire, hugging your knees to your chest. You wanted to cry but you remained as silent as possible. You didn’t want to be found. You didn’t even know what to say to him.

“Y/N?” Sam called your name softly. With your head buried in your arms, you could tell that Sam was right in front of you. “It’s not what you think.” You didn’t say anything. “We were just dancing as friends. I promise.” Still nothing. “Please believe me. It was nothing.”

“I want to go home,” you mumbled. “I want to go home now.”

“Okay, yeah. Let’s go home,” Sam agreed, grabbing your hand, but you were quick to pull away.

You didn’t see it, but Sam’s shoulder dropped. This was your first fight. He imagined that your first fight together was going to be something really stupid, like him hogging all the blankets, not something that threatened your relationship. Sam wasn’t ready to lose you, at lease not yet. He only hoped that he could make this right.

Half way home, you had fallen asleep. He thought about dropping you to your house, but he didn’t want to wake you, nor did he want to be so far from you just yet, so he stuck with the original plan. He brought you over to his place.

He carefully carried you out of the car, changed you out of your clothes and into one of his t-shirts without disturbing your slumber. He then left to sleep on the couch. He had contemplated if he should sleep in the same bed or not, unsure if you’d want him next to you after the misunderstanding. He didn’t want to upset you any more than he already had.

When Dean got home, he was surprised to see Sam getting comfortable on the couch with a pillow and blanket. “Do I wanna ask?” He eyed his baby brother.

“I messed up,” Sam sighed, running his hands down his face.

Dean let out a deep breath. “What happened?” he questioned, perching himself on one of the bar stools by the kitchen.

“Y/N, saw me dancing with another girl.”

“What do you mean, ‘dancing’?” Dean was a little worried now.

“Jess and I were dancing and well, we were a little too close. And when Y/N came back she saw us. I didn’t think it was a big deal until I saw the look on her face. It hit me like a freight train, and I panicked. I shoved Jess away from me and ran after her, which made it seem even worse than it actually was. It was all innocent, I swear. Jess saw me alone on the dance floor and came to keep me company, and the whole time all she did was ask questions about Y/N. Jess likes Y/N a lot. She just wanted to get to know her better and the music was too loud, so she leaned if closer… it was a mess. I’m such an idiot. I just need Y/N to hear me out, to let me explain what happened, but she wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Sammy…” Dean exhaled, “boy are you an idiot. Big time. Like huge!”

“I know—” Sam cried. “I’m the biggest idiot on the planet.”

“Try the universe,” Dean reprimanded. “Dude, you know Y/N. You knew how she felt about going to that party. If it were me in your shoes, I wouldn’t have gone in the first place. I would have suggested a smaller gathering; one I know Y/N would feel more comfortable in. Maybe even invite some of her friends. The girl is tough, but she isn’t the most confident person we know. You know her, Sam. You should have known better.”

“Geez Dean, I know! I already feel like crap about this, do you have to throw salt into the wound?” Sam groaned.

“Fuck yeah I do. I care about her too, Sammy. You’re her boyfriend. You should know these things.”

“Alright, alright. I get it. I colossally fucked up! Y/N deserves better than me! Happy?” Sam hissed.

“A little,” Dean smirked.

“You’re a dick,” Sam grumbled.

“Hey. On a good note… Y/N loves you even if you’re a douche, so use that to your advantage. In the morning talk to her. Explain how you were a dumbass, grovel, then kiss her like your life depends on it. She’ll forgive you, why? Because she knows the kind of person you are too.”

“Thanks Dean. I really needed that.”

“What are big brother’s for?” Dean smiled, getting up to give Sam a pat on his shoulder before leaving.

“Also, Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean stopped, twisting his body a little to give Sam his attention.

“What were you doing while we were gone?” Sam asked.

“Nothing much, why?” The elder Winchester responded.

“Why are there mint condition Celine Dion cassette tapes out on the table?” Sam pointed to the tapes in front of him.

“Uh… they… well...” Dean cleared his throat, “I was going through some old boxes and found them. I-I figured, maybe they belonged to mom.” Dean stammered.

“But they look a little too new.” Sam noted.

“What? I—I swear they were like that when I found it!” Dean argued, rushing over to Sam and grabbing the tapes. “I’ll get rid of it.”

Sam gave his brother a skeptical look. “Yeah, sure. What ever you say,” he smirked knowingly.

“Just… Shut up!” With that, Dean stormed into his room.

Say Something Nice Here!

Reblog with some feedback or just to help a sister out and signal boost! Feedback is fuel, and I’d really appreciate it :)

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #highschool!sam x highschool!reader #sam x reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #reader insert #sam winchester au #boyfriend and girlfriend #squirrel-moose-winchester #sam winchester series #spn au series #supernatural au series

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kyber-kisses · 5 years

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Tainted Love

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/n: please consider this a crack fic because there is no plot to it at all. It’s also based on this vine:

youtube

Summary: when Charlie tags along on a hunt, neither of you can help it when it comes to taunting the boys at a red light.

When you heard Charlie was in Lebanon you were extatic to hear she would be joining you and the boys on the next hunt. You loved the Winchester brothers but sometimes it was annoying being the only female in the bunker. This would be a refreshing change to the normal day to day.

The four of you were currently working your way down the bunker hallway towards the garage. As you reached for your car keys you saw Dean doing the exact same. Your eyes locking.

“I thought I was driving?” He questioned, eyes skimming over the set of keys in your hand. As much as you loved Baby there were times you wanted to drive your car, which happened to be a cobalt blue 1965 Shelby mustang you nicknamed Big Blue.

“You always drive. Let me drive this time.” You countered, twirling the keys on your finger.

“Sorry y/n I’m only loyal to Baby.” Dean shrugged his shoulders, before turning to unlock the impala. All the meanwhile Charlie and Sam stood to the side, a look of amusement painted across their features. An idea crossed your mind and you smirked, turning to walk over to Blue.

“ Fine Charlie will ride with me and Sam can ride with you. I bet I could beat you there anyways.” You smirked, sliding into the leather seat. Through the window you could see the older Winchester open his mouth to speak, but closed it. He then pointed a finger at you, a fierce look in his green eyes.

“Okay fine, but your on.”

“Guys come o-“ Sam tried to speak up but the sound of both engines humming to life within the garage covered his voice quickly. As you let Charlie slide into the passenger seat you were startled by the blur of black as Dean full speed reversed out out of the garage and down the tunnel. You cursed, clicking out of park and pressing the gas down. Luckily for you, Blue was faced forward and with that you took off towards the tail lights of the impala.

“You just had to go and challenge him didn’t you?” Charlie turned to look at you, slightly still amused.

“Yes because I Like to annoy him and wipe that smug grin off his face.” Your knuckles turning white as you gripped the wheel.

“You do know people do that when they have crushes right?” The redhead turning to reveal a wide grin on her face.

“I - I don’t have a crush on Dean!” You stumbled, trying to keep your eyes on the road.

“Uh-huh, sure. Well I can for sure tell you that Dean likes you.”

At her statement you could feel a blush crawling across your cheeks. Why the hell would Dean like you? He doesn’t like you? All you do is sing along terribly to his music, steal his French fries, and continuously prank him. Those were not selling points.

“Oh look I love this song!” You spoke up, desperately trying to change the topic.

You slightly turned up the radio, tapping your fingers to the beat of Tainted Love by Soft Cell. Your eyes scanning the road before you for the mat black impala. You quickly found it a few yards ahead, screeching to a stop at a red light. As Blue rumbled across the road Charlie and yourself lightly sang along to the song. You quietly thanked Charlie for having her window down as you pulled up in the lane next to the impala. The light still a vibrant red. Neither of the brothers had noticed you yet. You and Charlie shared a look as you reached for the volume dial, turning it up more.

At the sound of the blaring music, Dean turned his head at the same time as Sam, a confused look on his face as he laid eyes on you and Charlie singing terribly off key to tainted love.

Oh tainted love

Tainted love

Dean, along with his brother wore matching expressions of confusion as they watched you attempt to head bang to the song. You were getting so into it at this point even Charlie lost control. Her singing turning to violent laughter as she doubled over in the passenger seat, your strained voice still belting out the lyrics.

Don't touch me please

I cannot stand the way you tease

I love you though you hurt me so

So caught up with the event unfolding next to him, Dean failed to notice the now green light. You quickly turned to flash Dean a devilish smirk before you put the pedal to the metal and tore through the intersection.

“Shit-“ Dean fumbled, pressing his foot down on the gas, but watching as your Mustang shot down the road towards the next town.

“Dude.” Sam looked over at his brother grinning. “You got it so bad for y/n.”

“Shut up.”

But as those words came out of his mouth, he couldn’t help but silently agree with Sam. He did like you. A lot. But to hell if he was gonna let you win this stupid little bet.

@my-proof-is-you

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean x y/n #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine

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mattzerella-sticks · 6 years

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Left Behind: a Supernatural Coda to 13x23 (Ao3)

Now that Michael's disappeared with Dean and his body... what will the others do? How will they react - knowing their beloved friend has been taken from them?

Here's how.

Jody finds out from Sam. She’s at the stove, stirring a pot of beef stew from a recipe she saw on television. In the other room, Donna captures the girls’ attention with a daring tale from their latest hunt. Ever since she had transferred over to Sioux Falls, Jody and her have been moonlighting more often as a hunting duo. Patience and Alex listen intently, books wayward from their laps. Claire pretends to focus on the television, but her snarky comments betrayed her indifference.

“Dinner’s almost ready, gang!” Jody calls, turning the flame from high to simmer, “Donna you can finish it in here, let’s go!” There’re grumbles, but the shuffling footsteps bring a smile to her face.

She only notices her phone when she reaches for a bowl. Its notification light flashes, and she raises a brow at it. With most of the people she talks to in the dining room, there’re only one or two other people who can be calling.

“Wonder if they found the devil…” she mutters, opening the phone up and reading the text.

CRACK!

“Jody!”

She looks up, Claire leading the pack, pausing at the entryway. Her phone lies forgotten on the floor, a small spider web working its way up the corner of the screen.

“De – Dean…” she mutters, leaning against the counter.

“What happened?” Claire asks, “Jody – is Dean okay?”

Jody looks at them – at all of them, and can’t stop the tears brimming to the surface. “He’s been possessed… and he’s… he’s gone.”

Donna gasps. Patience and Alex whimper, hands finding one another. Claire, however, has a different reaction. She grits her teeth, steels her gaze, and steps towards Jody until she’s pulling the mother figure into a tight hug.

“He’s not gone,” she says, whispering harsh and wet, “We’ll find him. That’s what family is for.” Jody clings to Claire, re-centering herself with the help of the younger hunter. The others follow, surrounding their matriarch.

‘Beef stew’s better for lunch anyway…’ Jody thinks, food forgotten for the night.

Rowena also finds out from Sam. Her and Charlie are on the side of the road, staring at a smoking yellow beetle. The younger redhead is under the hood, while the witchier of the two waits under a black umbrella.

“Honestly, dear, why did you insist on taking this horrid vehicle?” she asks, pulling her sunglasses from her face.

“Because, Rowena,” Charlie starts, glaring at her while elbow-deep in engine guts, “It’s got soul. Reminded me of the car I had beforeangels screwed up my world.” It sputters once more, hacking grease and oil up on Charlie’s shirt. “Dammit!” she curses, “I just bought this shirt too!”

“I told you to change,” Rowena calls out, “Although I won’t be shedding a tear over the ridiculous shirt you bought.”

“Carrie Fischer is a treasure!” Charlie yells, “May she ret in peace!”

Rowena wants to fire off another round of sass, but Annie Lennox’s ‘I’ve Put a Spell on You’ cuts her off. “Already?” she asks, pulling out the offending device from her purse, “We only just bloody left. What could they possibly…”

Charlie tries to focus on fixing her bug’s engine. But the longer Rowena keeps silent, the more worried she gets. Finally fed up with trying (and failing) to put together the machine, she looks back over to Rowena.

A shaking, crying Rowena.

“Hey… hey!” Charlie rushes over, “What happened?”

She reaches out to touch her, only for the witch to pull back, “Don’t touch me with those grease-covered mitts, nerd.”

Charlie rolls her eyes, “Who was it? What did they say?”

“It was Samuel,” she starts, fiddling with her phone, “He said… Lucifer – he’s… he’s gone…”

“That’s good right?”

“Oh it is, dearie, but…” she hiccups, “Dean…”

Charlie’s heart drops to her stomach. Even only knowing that something happened to the elder Winchester sends a chill up her spine. He was so sweet – albeit a little overprotective. Looked at her like the Charlie from his world. And even though they had just met, wishes that he’d share that look with her more often – but only because of the bond they built together.

“What happened?” she whispers.

“Michael,” Rowena admits, “He’s possessed by the Michael from your world.” Charlie gasps, biting down on her lip until water wells up at the corner of her eyes.

When she reaches out to hug Rowena, the latter doesn’t care for how mussed she’ll look later. She hugs the other girl back, rocking back and forth until a kind stranger helps them towards the nearest gas station.

Ketch finds out from Rowena. He’s relaxing in a booth at a roadside diner, a cup of stale coffee cooling nearby. In his hands, a wrinkled newspaper with marks over different sections and articles.

A young waitress sidles over to him, her brunette hair pinned back into a messy bun. There are a few stains on her mustard-and-ketchup uniform, and the once shiny nametag that says ‘Sara’ has seen better days. “Are you ready to order, sir?” she asks him.

He folds the newspaper over and meets her bored stare. “I’ll have some eggs, bacon and toast, love. Scarmbled. Burnt. And butter. Thank you.” Sara rolls her eyes, but moves on to put the order in.

“Let’s see…” he mutters, flipping to the next page, “This might be interesting.” He pulls his phone out now, placing the older medium off to the wayside. Typing in a few key words, he pulls up another article that checks off a few more tabs.

“Thought we wiped all you bloodsuckers out ages ago,” he hums, “But here we are.”

He’s about to close out when a notification flashes above. Ketch sees Rowena’s name and frowns. After having her insert the resurrection spell back into his leg, they parted ways with the hope of never seeing the other again.

But she’s messaging him, telling him that Dean…

“Bloody hell.”

Ketch bolts from his booth, storming out the door. Sara calls after him, “Sir… sir! Your food and –“ the bell clangs –“my tip… British… I thought they had manners.”

The former Men of Letters rushes over to his bike, his vision blurring with rage. He stops at the handlebars, leaning against them, shuddering for breath. He’s staring into a tunnel, and his gut twists itself into knots he hasn’t seen since his Academy days.

“You stupid… block-headed… American!” He kicks the wheel, sending his bike to the ground. Ketch curls up next to it, taking a few seconds to control his temper.

Soon enough, he’s picking the bike up and peeling out of the near-empty parking lot.

On his mind: the route back to Lebanon.

Billie walks the halls of her library. She plucks a book out from its place and opens it to a certain page.

“Damn,” she whispers, “Out of all the paths… why’d he have to follow this one?”

She carries it back to her desk, Jessica watching with fear.

None of the reapers, including Billie, are sure what will happen next.

Naomi watches Heaven blare in and out. Flagstaff flies in with the other angels quickly on her heels.

“Naomi?” she asks, “What is happening?”

“Lucifer,” Naomi tells them, “He’s dead.”

“Dead? But…” the angels look between them, “What does that mean of Heaven?”

“We still may have hope… there’s one other archangel left on Earth.”

“Gabriel?”

“No… Michael.”

Mary finds out from Cas.

She and Bobby re-emerge from the Bunker’s innards, surprised by the eerie silence within their home’s halls. They’re on high alert, with Mary steeling herself for whatever she might find. Even if that means her boys’…

‘No,’ she thinks, ‘We’re not going there.’

What they do find in the main room, however, is not what they expected. Michael’s vessel lies unmoving near the map of the world. On the steps, Cas sits frozen – like a statue, curled in on itself.

“Cas?” Mary asks, stepping forward, “Castiel? What happened? Where’s…”

He doesn’t respond.

“Castiel?” she urges, kneeling right behind him, “Sam and Dean… I need to know.”

“He’s… he’s gone,” Cas says, eyes distant – searching.

“Who’s gone?” Mary pleads now, hand on his shoulder, “Castiel, please –“

“C’mon now, boy,” Bobby interrupts, “Answer her!”

“Dean he… he said…” he chokes back a sob, “He said yes.”

Sam and Jack find Mary curled against Bobby, weeping openly against his chest. The two shuffle their way in, nearing them. Sam quickly joins the two hunters, where Mary latches onto him, squeezing him tight. “Why?” she asks, “Why did he – why would he?”

“To save us,” Sam tells her, swaying with her, “To save us all.”

Jack sits next to Cas, the angel unmoved by their entrance. “Father?” Jack asks, “Father, are you okay?”

He says nothing, but twin wet trails tell Jack all he needs to know. The nephilim leans his head against Cas’s shoulder, humming. “We’ll find him,” he says, “And when we do, we’ll rescue Dean.”

Mary’s wretched cries and Sam’s feeble words are all that break the deathly silence suffocating the Bunker.

Cas finds out because of Dean. His final act, a last-minute prayer sent to him before Michael took over. In it, he tells Cas two things: “Take care of them” and “I… I… I lo –“

The message cuts out before he could finish, the bond between them cut – Cas recoiling from the intensity. He shudders, slowly craning his eyes toward the ceiling.

And cries.

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dubsism · 4 years

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Today’s Movie: Forty Guns

Year of Release: 1957

Stars: Barbara Stanwyck, Barry Sullivan, Dean Jagger

Director: Samuel Fuller

This movie is not on my list of essential films.

NOTE: This installment of Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies is being done as part of something called The Queen of Sass: The Barbara Stanwyck Blog-A-Thon being hosted by Pale Writer. I’ve been in enough of these events with her to know she’s a dedicated fan of the horror genre. But where she lives, there’s nowhere to get a good old-school hockey mask. If you know where you can get one, contact her for shipping arrangements 🙂

You can see all the contributors to this blog-a-thon here:

Days One, Two, and Three

The Story:

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For you Samuel Fuller fans (like myself), “Forty Guns” is his version of “My Darling Clementine” with the following tweaks…because a Fuller movie wouldn’t be a Fuller movie without his fingerprints.

Rename the Earp brothers “Bonnel” – U.S. Marshal Griff Bonnel (played by Barry Sullivan) and his two brothers, Wes (played by Gene Barry) and Chico (played by Robert Dix)

Replace “Doc Holliday” with local gunsmith “Shotgun” Spanger (played by Gerald Milton) who also has a gun-toting, sharp-shooting daughter Louvenia (played by Eve Brent)

Replace head bad guy Old Man Clanton with head bad-ass Jessica Drummond (played by Barbara Stanwyck) who also has a crazy, trigger-happy brother Brockie (played by John Ericson)

Barbara Stanwyck showing who’s boss.

Other than that, fans of “My Darling Clementine,” “Gunfight at the O.K. Corral,” “Tombstone,” et al, ad nauseum will recognize this movie…with a healthy dose of sexual innuendo woven through a inverted tapestry of female empowerment as only Samuel Fuller can do.

It’s the 1880s in Tombstone, Arizona. Griff Bonnell is the “Wyatt Earp-ian” reformed gunslinger who arrives in town with his brothers to clean up Tombstone. The town is ruled with an iron fist by Jessica Drummond. She is fond of riding her white horse into Tombstone, followed by forty men on black horses…all as an exercise of reminding the citizens who rules this lawless town. Not only does Drummond rule in the finest traditions of a western despot, Sheriff Ned Logan (played by Dean Jagger) is also one of her band of quasi-mercenaries.

The presence of Griff, Logan, and Jessica sets up the beginnings of a love triangle, which isn’t so easily noted as the first part of this movie feels more like then a sex comedy than a “B”-western. The foreshadowing of what is about to come sets in early as well when Jessica is visibly concerned about the presence of Bonnel and his brothers, who as the “Earps” have a reputation of cleaning up towns like Tombstone.

Despite the fact Griff has arrest warrants for members of Jessica’s “forty guns,” they clearly have a mutual respect for each other…there’s even not-so-subtle overtones of a budding romance. Griff seems to be able to bring law and order back to Tombstone without a lot of violence, until Jessica’s brother Brockie shoots the nearly-blind town marshal Chisum (played by Hank Worden) in the leg. After the shooting, Brockie and his cohorts go on a drunken rampage tearing through Tombstone.

Griff and Jessica

Griff intervenes and pistol-whips Brockie while Wes covers him with a rifle from the gunsmith shop. Griff is careful not to kill Brockie as his burgeoning relationship with Jessica has clued him in to the close nature of the brother/sister relationship between them.

Meanwhile, the sex comedy aspect of this film is draining away and the complications are becoming more apparent. The moment Jessica rejects the romantic advances of Ned Logan after he tries to shoot Griff…because she’s falling in love with him…is a perfect example. Another comes when Wes falls in love with Louvenia Spanger. As a result, he decides to settle down and become the town’s marshal.

Wes and Louvenia

In revenge for Brockie, Ned Logan and another “hired gun” Charlie Savage (played by Chuck Hayward), attempt to ambush Griff in an alley. Chico saves Griff by killing Savage, after which Brockie and the other hired guns try to turn the town against the Bonnell brothers.

Brockie makes another attempt to kill Griff, but inadvertently kills Wes instead…on the day Wes was to marry Louvenia. Brockie is arrested and jailed for the murder, but Brockie makes an escape attempt using his sister Jessica as a shield. Brockie dares Griff to shoot, and is shocked when Griff does exactly that. Griff’s places a shot which only wounds Jessica, but kills Brockie, making him the first life the reformed gunslinger has taken in ten years.

The film closes with remaining in Tombstone to take the marshal’s job. Griff starts riding out of town believing his romance with Jessica is over considering the fact he shot her and killed her brother. But being used as a shield by her own brother has caused Jessica to reevaluate some things in her life. She runs down the dirt street chasing Griff’s buckboard yelling “Griff! Mr. Bonnell!”

The Hidden Sports Analogy:

NOTE: Before we get to today’s hidden sports analogy, current events dictate a preliminary bit of housekeeping. As a matter of record, I couldn’t care less about the current matter of the nickname of the Washington National Football League (NFL) team. I also am not interested in the allegations of the shenanigans happening. First, I’ve already addressed the hypocrisy in whole “mascot” thing in an old version of the “Dubscast.” Second, in America today, we’ve allowed the weaponization of sexual harrassment/abuse claims to the point it is nearly impossible to tell the honest-to-goodness victims from the “boy that cried wolf” crowd…and a completely untrustworthy news/sports media only exacerbates that.

I only mention that only because there a lot of people right now who are going to want to jump in on those topics here. Save your comments on that subject; there’s a more detailed exploration of that coming. This piece is about a movie, and how it relates to a tale of a football team at a point in time decades ago; current events being completely irrelevant.

In other words, any comments which are off the topic of the movie and the sports analogies will never see the light of day. Don’t say you weren’t warned.

As far as the hidden sports analogy in “Forty Guns” is concerned, for purposes of full disclosure, as a fan of the Philadelphia Eagles, my team has to play these divisional-rival dilcues twice a season. That means getting to the play-offs means needing to beat this team regardless of whether they are called “Redskins” or “Rainbow Sunshine Tap-Dancing Unicorns;” twice a year I want the Eagles to collectively bludgeon them with a bag of chisels and stomp on their lifeless corpses.

Naming an opposing team the “Unicorns” would guarantee great sales of unicorn meat in Philadelphia.

Keeping that “two times” theme in mind, the connection between sports analogy hidden in the 1957 Samuel Fuller western “Forty Guns” is all about the NFL’s 1987 Washington Redskins and their march to a Super Bowl championship…a season in which it was the Eagles’ turn to take the “bag of chisels.” But there’s another link hidden in that story, which means despite the fact this hidden sports analogy is about football, in honor of the impending return of baseball, today’s installment is a “double-header.”

To get today’s “twin-bill” started, as mentioned the “My Darling Clementine” story is like the western version of “A Star Is Born;” they’ve both been made and re-made tons of times. “Forty Guns” is Samuel Fuller’s take on the classic western tale of Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday, and the Clantons. Again, Fuller camouflages this a bit, but the trained eye can still spot it. The key connecting fact here for hidden sports analogies is the fact that Barbara Stanwyck’s “Jessica Drummond” recruits the service of an army of “hired guns.” Well, that’s exactly what the NFL owners did in 1987 when the National Football League Players Association (NFLPA) went on strike after the second game of the season. Instead of negotiating with the striking players, the owners simply hired “replacement” players.

But like Drummond’s “hired guns,” the Washington Redskins got ones who proved to be better than most. It took “Earp-ian” characters to stop Drummond’s. “Real” NFL players couldn’t stop the “Replacement Redskins.”

Washington’s 1987 season started with a win over the mediocre Philadelphia Eagles, which was followed by a loss to the downright lousy Atlanta Falcons. Then the strike came, and the games scheduled for the third week of the season were cancelled. Week Four saw the debut of the “replacements” (or “scabs” as the NFLPA called them), and they weren’t exactly welcomed by the striking players. When the bus carrying the replacement players arrived at the Redskins’ training facility, striking defensive tackle Darryl Grant put his fist right through one of the windows.

Despite that, the following Sunday, the 50-some-odd guys now wearing Washington uniforms who two weeks previously had been construction workers or loading trucks opened with a win over the St. Louis Cardinals. The following Sunday saw another victory, this time over another division rival the New York Giants.

As the reign of the replacement players continued, the ranks of the NFLPA began to show cracks, and several striking players crossed the picket lines to rejoin the league. Thus begins the legend of the “Replacement Redskins.”

Week Five saw the “Replacement Redskins” heading to Dallas to face the Cowboys; a team who was not just a traditional rival, but a divisional foe with whom the Redskins would enter that match tied for first-place. Not only were Washington having to go on the road for this game, they had lost their starting “replacement” quarterback Ed Rubbert to an injury. If that weren’t enough, several of the striking Dallas Cowboys had ended their participation in the strike and would be playing in this game, including Hall of Famers running back Tony Dorsett and defensive tackle Randy White, and legendary defensive end Ed “Too Tall” Jones.

Heading into Texas Stadium, the Redskins looked more like Custer than the Indians, especially since their new quarterback was only able to be there on a special work release from prison. A former star at the University of Tennessee, Robinson then became a “draft pick” for the Tennessee Department of Corrections thanks to a conviction for selling cocaine. That and a previous knee injury seemingly all but destroyed Robinson’s chances to play in the NFL.

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But during his nine-month sentence, Robinson received an offer to play for the Richmond Ravens of the Continental Interstate Football League. A judge granted him a work release to play, and while he was playing for the Ravens in 1987, the NFLPA went on strike. In another stroke of luck, Robinson’s coach with the Ravens recommended him to his friend…Washington Redskins’ head coach Joe Gibbs. Robinson was then signed with the Redskins in September 1987 as a backup to replacement quarterback Ed Rubbert. Once Rubbert was hurt, Robinson’s shot at the NFL was now a reality.

Robinson didn’t exactly shatter the record books with his performance; he notched 11 completions on 18 passing attempts for 152 yards and 2 interceptions. In fact, he was borderline crappy. But he did lead a squad of replacements to a 13-7 win over a team at least partially-populated with professional players; a feat still regarded as one of the greatest upsets in sports history.

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The success of the replacement players and the mass defections of NFLPA members across the picket lines meant the strike would soon be over. The replacement player era lasted three games, but their story lived for over three decades after their day in the NFL sun. As previously mentioned, the Washington Redskins went on to win the Super Bowl that year, and it was the three divisional games won by the replacement players that served as a springboard for that title run.

Nobody recognized the contribution of the replacement players more than did the Redskins’ fans. The problem was the team did not share that stance. Then-assistant general manager Charley Casserly was noted to credit the “Replacement Redskins” for “holding down the fort” until the strike ended and the regulars returned. While the replacement players did get to share in the money that came with the team’s Super Bowl championship, the Redskins’ management was reticent to give them championship rings for fear of angering the NFLPA, whose members lost four game checks and were still not happy with those who crossed the picket lines.

But as the old saying goes, time heals all wounds. In 2018, the Washington Redskins finally honored the 1987 “Replacement Redskins” with Super Bowl XXII rings. It was pretty hard not to after Darryl “Window Puncher” Grant endorsed the idea.

The BONUS Hidden Sports Analogy:

On Opening Day 1987, Jay Schroeder was Washington’s starting quarterback, but he didn’t survive the first game in Philadelphia. After Schroeder got hurt, head coach Joe Gibbs turned to the quarterback who he drafted when Gibbs was the offensive coordinator of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers…Doug Williams. The Buccaneers entered the NFL in 1976 as an expansion team and it took almost two years for them to win their first game.

But Williams played a major role in turning that around; in 1979 the Tampa Bay Buccaneers narrowly lost the NFC Championship Game to the Los Angeles Rams for a trip to the Super Bowl. But a salary dispute with the Buccaneers, injuries, and a stint in the upstart United States Football League (USFL) saw Williams NFL stock sink to that of a back-up quarterback.

By the time the 1987 NFL playoffs roll around, Jay Schroeder is injured and the championship run started by Tony Robinson and the “Replacement Redskins” has to be brought through the home stretch by Doug Williams. All is going according to plan, until the first quarter of Super Bowl XXII when the Denver Broncos and future Hall of Fame quarterback John Elway jumped out to a 10-0 lead.

But that was when Williams engineered the greatest single quarter in Super Bowl history, throwing four touchdown passes and earning the Super Bowl Most Valuable Player on the way to becoming the first black quarterback to win a Super Bowl. In another installment in this series, I explore how John Elway played the role of Custer to Williams’ Redskins.

The analogy here is all about firsts. Joe Gibbs saw enough in Doug Williams to make him the first black quarterback taken in the first round of the NFL Draft, and eventually Williams became the first black quarterback to start and win a Super Bowl. Likewise, Samuel Fuller saw enough in Barbara Stanwyck…especially after her roles in “The Furies” and “Johnny Guitar” to have faith in her ability to pull off being the first female “head bad-ass” in a western. Stanwyck carries that whole movie as the “head bad-ass,” and even though she’s a woman in 1957, don’t even try to tell me you don’t think if you crossed her, she wouldn’t have you busted up…or worse.

Who knows? Maybe Doug Williams had the sheer-level of “hard-ass” to play a movie “heavy,” but I’m pretty sure despite her small stature, Barbara Stanwyck had the fortitude of a footballer.

The Morals of the Story:

Even “hired guns” deserve recognition.

That old saying about “dynamite comes in small packages” is true.

FUN FACT: Tony Robinson was the inspiration for Keanu Reeves’ “Shane Falco” in the 2000 film “The Replacements.”

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BONUS FUN FACT: Once the Redskins gave Tony Robinson a Super Bowl ring, it made them the only franchise to date having two black quarterbacks to play in regular-season games during their championship season.

Check out Dubsism’s Movies and Blog-A-Thons page for a full schedule of projects past, present, and future!

Got a question, comment, or just want to yell at us? Hit us up at [email protected], @Dubsism on Twitter, or on our Pinterest, Tumblr, Instagram, Snapchat or Facebook pages, and be sure to bookmark Dubsism.com so you don’t miss anything from the most interesting independent sports blog on the web.

Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies – Volume 86: “Forty Guns” Today's Movie: Forty Guns Year of Release: 1957 Stars: Barbara Stanwyck, Barry Sullivan, Dean Jagger Director: Samuel Fuller…

#Classic Movies #Doug Williams #Movies #NFL #Replacement Players #Sports Analogies Hidden In Classic Movies #Tony Robinson #Washington Redskins

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67chevy-imagine · 7 years

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Heartache

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3,099

Summary: A look at the reader through Dean’s eyes, focusing mostly on Dean’s emotions throughout the day and how he reacts to even the simplest of words. This is the raw and vulnerable side of Dean.

A/N: I haven’t written something like this, I think ever before. It’s heavily focused on Dean (especially since it’s his POV). Even so, the reader is a huge part of it, but once again, through Dean’s perspective on the matter. Hopefully, you love it. I spent a long time on it, trying to really get into Dean’s head. It’s not the light side of Dean, not many jokes or wise cracks -- it’s him in his raw emotional state. Also, this would not be possible with @thefangirllifeismine who not only corrected all of my shitty grammar, but stayed an inspiration throughout. Please, send in your feedback. It’s extremely important to me, I’d love to hear what you thought about this, especially since it’s definitely different from what I usually post.

-- -- -- --

DEAN’S POV:

Her lips were moving, but my eyes were stuck on her hair. It was wet, and dripping a river down her shirt. I don’t think a towel ever touched her head.

“Dean?” Her voice was warm, inviting. It always was. She was never harsh with her words. Sam constantly tried to poke at her, just to see what her voice would sound like if she raised it.

“Yeah?” I met my eyes with hers, catching her gaze.

I felt my brother’s eyes on me as well; his brow was raised and a smirk played on his face.

“We were asking if you wanted to go to the bar tonight.” Sam filled me in.

A laugh came up from my throat as I raised the glass of whiskey in my hand. “I’m fine right here.”

Y/N smiled and looked at Sam, “You’re still in, right?”

He nodded and got up from his chair. “I’ll go shower.”

I tipped my glass in response, and took another swig from it.

“Have you been out in the sun?” Y/N asked, suddenly.

I furrowed my brows, “I was working on Baby earlier, why?” Then, proceeded to lift up my shirt and smell it. “Do I smell that bad?”

“No,” She let out a light laugh, “Your freckles are darker.”

“My- my freckles?”

She leaned forward in her seat, her nose a mere foot from mine, “Freckles get darker in the sun.”

“Huh.” I muttered and took another sip of my drink.

“It’s cute, Dean.” She said and the whiskey managed to go down even slower. My lip twitched upwards.

Without waiting for me to respond, she gathered her hair to the side and wiped her now wet hands off on her jeans before jumping out from her seat.

“I’ll go change for the bar. Invite’s still open.” She smiled, turning on her heel.

I watched her leave, shamelessly.

The first time Sam and I met her, it was an accident. Neither of us knew we had been working the same case, so when I approached who I thought was the legitimate FBI agent on the case, Y/N’s face beamed back at me instead. After a few back and forth questions, the three of us discovered none of us were agents, and went to grab drinks instead. It was supposed to be a one time deal.

But, one night turned into two. Eventually, three. In no time, I was helping her bring boxes into the bunker from the trunk of her run down car.

“We can’t let anything happen to her, you know that right?” Sam said to me the night she moved in. The shower water was running loudly, and in that noise, we had a discussion.

“I know.” I replied to my little brother. Worry etched itself into every wrinkle on his face, just like it did on our mother’s. He would never know just how much he looked like her.

“That means relationships, too.” Sam narrowed his eyes at me.

I looked away, forgetting how easily he was able to read me.

He continued speaking, “Everyone we get too close to…”

Sam never did finish his sentence. The shower water shut off abruptly and out bounced Y/N. Her face was flushed and her hair dripped down her bare shoulders.

My thoughts were interrupted as Sam strided into the room.

“You sure you’re not coming?” He asked, cuffing up the sleeves to his shirt.

It was tempting. I knew the bar had better whiskey than the shit that was currently burning its way down my throat. Better yet, the bar had Y/N. Whenever she entered a bar, I could see everyone’s attention land on her. Her warmth radiated through her big eyes and genuine smile. Who wouldn’t be attracted to that?

“Nope,” I shrugged, “Not tonight.”

He nodded his head and walked towards the door, waiting for Y/N to meet him there.

“See you.” Sam shouted, his voice echoed down the hall.

Moments later, Y/N came out from her room. A short navy dress was hugging her skin, but what stole my attention was the jacket draped across her shoulders.

“I hope you don’t mind.” She said, pulling my black jacket around her.

“Looks better on you, anyways.” I said. It was the truth.

“Thanks, Dean.” She smiled at me before opening her small purse, reviewing whatever items lay inside of it. “See you later.”

With that, she was gone.

It may have been another hour before I got up, but when I finally did it was solely because I needed to go to the bathroom.

I stopped at the mirror. My reflection stared back at me, but this time it was different. Usually, I don’t look in the mirror.

Not when I wake up.

Not before I go to sleep.

If I do, I hate it. Plain as that. I never did like the man staring back, and I don’t know if I ever fully will. What changed though was that this time, someone liked what they saw on me.

My fingers reached up to my cheeks, running along the freckles on my skin.

Y/N liked them.

She honest to god, found something of mine that she liked. So, I did too. Immediately, I loved my freckles. I loved that my cheeks and nose were dusted with them, and that the most beautiful woman that I had ever laid eyes on, had found beauty in me, as well.

-- -- -- --

It couldn’t have been earlier than two o’clock in the morning, when I heard familiar footsteps stumble down the bunker’s staircase. I kicked the sheets off of myself and went to see the state they were both in.

“Come on.” Sam mumbled, trying to hold Y/N up, but he was hardly walking himself. “Dean!” Sam shouted, his drunk self wearing a huge smile.

“Oh, it’s Dean!” Y/N exclaimed, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. She gripped the edge of the staircase with both hands, leaning forward as she spoke.

I crossed my arms and raised my brows, watching the two of them stumble through the bunker like baby deer.

“Here-” Sam tossed me a pair of car keys, “We called a cab, the car is still in the bar parking lot.” The keys hit the floor with a loud jingle, his aim completely skewed from the liquor.

Y/N rounded the edge of the table and began to fall towards me.

“Woah, there.” I grabbed her by her arms and steadied her.

“Thanks.” She laughed once more, at nothing in particular.

Behind me, Sam had already found his way to his room. Eventually, I’d have to check on him. For now, I gripped Y/N’s shoulder and guided her to her own bedroom.

“Oh- I forgot!” She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Remind me in the morning.”

I looked at her, waiting for her to explain. When she didn’t, I asked her what she was talking about.

“I have-” she stuck her hand in the pocket of my jacket that she was wearing and pulled out a napkin. A number was scribbled onto it. “His name is Matt. I have a date with him tomorrow night. Remind me, ok?”

I took the napkin from her, fighting the urge to rip it to shreds.

“Okay.” I stated, turning on the lights as she walked over to her bed.

“Promise me.” She kicked off her shoes sloppily. “He’s so nice-” I could tell she was beginning to ramble. Once she’s had enough to drink, she tends to.

“I bet he is.” I cut her off, helping her unzip her dress.

“And Dean-”

“Yeah?”

“He just has the most gorgeous freckles!”

In that moment, I worried that she could actually hear my heart drop into my stomach. I swallowed thickly, and within seconds, she continued on her drunken ramble.

“Goodnight.” I stated, simply from habit.

“Night, Dean!” She dropped onto her bed.

I should have gone back to bed. I should have crawled under the covers and shut my eyes. My feet had other plans, though. Step after step, I was trudged through the halls and into the library where my hand found a bottle of brown and an old glass.

Sam’s words spun through my head. She had to be protected. I thought back to everyone I had ever gotten close to; Charlie, Jo, and Bela were long dead. Just like every other fucking hunter that I had ever met and let into my life.

Sam tried to show me the positives. He brings up names like Jody and Cas -- but who knows what will happen to them too?

I took another shot.

Eventually, it got dark.

-- -- -- --

“Hey, sleepy.” Y/N’s hand gripped my shoulder. “Wake up.”

I opened my eyes and everything was sideways. Fuck.

“You fell asleep here, again.” Her soft voice explained my current situation. It was embarrassing. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, looking at the scene before me. A mostly empty bottle, a half drunk glass, and what I think was a little bit of drool, lay on the table.

“What time is it?” I asked, quickly getting up from the chair and brushing past her. She smelled like her shampoo. Always vanilla.

She turned her wrist towards me. Nearly noon, her watch read.

“Thanks.” I muttered and began walking towards the kitchen.

“I should be thanking you.” Her voice called from behind me. Then, her footsteps began to draw nearer. “I couldn’t have been easy to take care of last night. Sam and I, we kind of let loose.”

I grabbed the coffee pot and turned it on. The sound of boiling water dripping down filled the silence.

“No, it was fine.” I replied, then remembered what she asked of me last night. “Except-” I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a crumpled napkin. “Matt.”

Her eyes went wide, “Oh god.” She took the napkin from my hands. Her hair fell before her face as she read the number, and she combed it back with one hand.

“I totally forgot. Shit.” She pulled out her cell phone and checked for any notifications. “I’ll just text him.”

I turned from her, unable to watch her any longer, and grabbed a cup for my coffee.

“Want some?” I asked over my shoulder.

“No, thanks.” She said, just as her phone beeped. “He already answered!” She exclaimed.

I kept my eyes glued to the cup in front of me, not daring to see her face light up as she saw his name and not mine.

“Smells good.” My brother’s voice carried into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a cup as well, waiting until I finished pouring my own before taking the pot.

“Feeling good, Sammy?” I threatened a laugh and he rolled his eyes.

“I haven’t been this hungover in ages.” He grabbed a bottle of Advil and returned to the table. “It was worth it though, you should have joined.”

I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee.

“Who are you texting?” Sam directed his question at Y/N, who still stood in the middle of the kitchen.

She looked at him and dangled the napkin in the air, “Remember that guy at the bar last night?”

“The really funny one?” He asked.

She nodded fervently, “Yeah, Matt. I got his number and we’re going to grab dinner tonight.”

Sam glanced at me, before returning his gaze to his breakfast.

“He’s a good guy.” Sam said. I think it was more to me, than Y/N.

“I bet.” I mumbled into my drink.

-- -- -- --

Sam decided to watch a movie tonight.

“Batman?” I questioned. He wasn’t one for the superheroes.

He popped it into the disk slot and dropped onto the couch. Looking at his huge frame swallow up the furniture, I remembered being able to hold him in my arms.

“Last time Y/N picked, it’s your turn.” He said while pressing play.

“Good. Wouldn’t want one of your history documentaries to bore me to death, tonight.” I began to laugh and he rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” He muttered and grabbed the bowl of popcorn he had prepared.

An hour into the movie, the bunker door swung open. The loud creak it made reminded me to oil it later.

“Y/N?” I called out her name. The heels she was wearing when she left were no longer on. Her bare feet padded against the hardwood floor until she finally reached us.

“How was it?” Sam asked, lowering the volume.

Her lips formed a fine line, “I’m just going to go shower.” She grabbed a fistful of popcorn before disappearing.

I looked at my brother. His brows were raised as he shook his head in confusion.

“I’ll go-” I sat up from the chair, “I’ll go check on her.”

Her door was shut. I raised my fist to knock, but she opened it before I got the chance.

“You walk loudly.” She stated. My lips formed at ‘O’.

“What was that about?” I motioned towards the other room with my thumb.

She shrugged and put her heels away in the closet.

“Sorry about that.” She looked up at me with her big, bold eyes, “I think Matt was a lot nicer when he was drunk.”

I crossed my arms and sat on the edge of her bed. “Huh?”

“Well, we ordered our food and everything was great. I mean finally, a break from hunting.” She explained, and I sighed.

She pulled her bouncy hair out from the pins it was in while she continued, “He was sweet at first, really. But I could tell something changed. Matt wanted more than what I did…”

My arms fell to my sides, “Did you leave?”

“Yeah, but that was only after he asked me four times to go back to his place.” She was on the floor, her legs bent underneath her. She dropped her hands onto the floor from frustration as she spoke.

“What a douchebag.” I stated, no other word was able to form itself. “You don’t deserve that.”

She looked up at me, and a smile formed itself against her cheeks.

“I’m gonna be single forever.” She joked. “I mean, who am I kidding?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

From her spot on the floor, she reached out and gripped my leg with her hand. “Come on, Dean. We’re hunters. Let’s say it did work out with Matt -- who’s to say he wouldn’t freak out the second that I brought him down into the bunker or told him that vampires are real!” Her grip tightened as she spoke, “It’s so fucking frustrating sometimes.”

“Dating is the worst.” I agreed with her.

“No.” She ran her hand down my leg and to my ankle, where she removed it.

I furrowed my brows and looked at her, every bit of me confused.

“Then what?”

“Being alone.” Her eyes dropped from mine and my chest suddenly felt heavy. I knew the feeling of being alone, too well. It was heartbreaking, yet familiar at the same time. It was relief, yet yearning.

“You got me.” I blurted out.

She got up from her spot on the floor by my legs, and situated herself on the bed so she sat next to me.

“I know that, Dean. I meant… more.” Y/N’s voice dwindled into a whisper. I turned my head to face her, and in that moment, I couldn’t lie to her.

“Exactly.” I stated, and her eyes first searched my face. They traveled from eye to eye as she thought of what I could possibly mean, until her lips parted.

I didn’t know what to expect. My heart hasn’t raced this fast since for someone else since high school. I either just started the relationship I had been waiting for, or ruined a friendship that was worth more to me than anything else.

I was so focused on her face that I hadn’t realized her hand found mine.

I wanted to keep her hand there, to squeeze it tight. But, Sam’s words found their way back into my head.

“I’m selfish.” I stated simply, standing up from the bed.

“What?”

“I’m being selfish, you deserve better.”

She tilted her head at me, her hair falling with it. “What are you talking about, Dean?”

“Everyone I touch, they-”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N cut me off. “Don’t you dare say it.”

“They leave.”

“You know I’m not going to.” She stood up from the bed and walked up to me, placing her open palms on my chest. “I’m not just somebody.”

“That’s the point!” I exclaimed, voice rising. “You aren’t just somebody! What if something happened to you? I can’t let you get hurt.”

“You’re not my keeper, Dean.”

I laced my fingers around her wrists, holding her palms tightly against my chest. “From the first time you walked through those bunker doors, I wanted no one but you, and you know why I haven’t told you?”

She looked up at me through her lashes.

“I have been torturing myself every day, because I want you safe. I need you safe.”

For a few moments, no one said anything. Y/N just stared up at me with a look I had never seen before.

Then, she stood on her toes, and pressed her lips to mine.

And God, it was everything I thought it would be. She was warm and sweet, like honey. Her hands were squeezing at my waist and I knew right there that I was done for.

My hands traveled up to her neck, grazing every inch of her skin.

“Since the first day?” She teased, speaking slowly against my lips.

I laughed, “Since day one.” I affirmed and she smiled so wide that all I wanted to do was kiss every inch of her bubbly cheeks.

“How about we get dinner tonight, sweetheart.” I asked, hoping she was still hungry after the shit dinner she described with Matt.

“I’d love to.” Y/N’s fingers found mine and she led me out of her room.

Sam was still seated on the couch. His hand was glued to the remote and I could hear the channel being changed every other second. When we passed through, my hand still in hers, he raised his brows and stared at me.

“Woah, wait-” He called out behind us.

“We’ll be back soon!” Y/N called over her shoulder.

A smile remained on my face for the rest of the night, never faltering.

#dean x reader #reader x dean #dean winchester #dean #dean winchester x reader #reader x dean winchester #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfic #dean winchester oneshot #dean oneshot #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfic #supernatural #spn #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot

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fanforfanatic · 7 years

Text

Kisses by Sunflower Beds

ao3 // for @reallyelegantsharkfish

In his last moments, Dean sees his life flash before his eyes which is how he knows that this time it will stick, knows it’s for good and there’s no coming back from this one.

In truth, he doesn’t actually see his life but feels it. He’s overwhelmed by a sense of accomplishment and he associates it to every time he took care of Sammy when they were children, got them through the night, got his kid brother to laugh instead of ask questions. He associates it with the first time he shot a firearm and his dad called him a natural. The first time he saved a life. The first time he saved the world. The first time he made Cas come.

A wave of joy hits him after that. Prank wars with Sam. Antics with Charlie. Driving Baby. His first lazy Sunday with Cas. Every lazy Sunday with Cas after that.

With his dying breath, Dean smells motor oil and pie and sex and honey and it all smells good. It smells perfect melded together, though it shouldn’t, and if it were bottled the label would read Life of Dean Winchester. He doesn’t smell blood or burning flesh or sulfur.

He hears his favourite tune along with Cas’ clumsy mumble and Sam’s off key singing.

Dean feels his life slip away with all his senses—save for sight. That’s not to say he doesn’t see anything. He sees tree twigs that look big in the chubby hands of children, he sees long dark hair he hasn’t encountered before, a stone path and a bed of sunflowers and the sight of an ugly yellow backpack in Baby’s backseat. He doesn’t remember any of these things, not really, but he still somehow recognises them. They feel like memories, like they belong to him.

Dean’s last thought is of the botanical garden Cas had wanted—insisted on—them going to. Dean didn’t care much for it but agreed because he wasn’t one to deny Cas anything. Still, it took them years to find the time to make the trip.

Sam decided to come along because there’s a library in the area that has a whole section on South American lore, something the bunker was lacking. He was essentially crashing their date so Sam offered shotgun to Cas.

He was a little cramped in the backseat and had to angle his body sideways to make room for his legs, but when Dean’s hand wasn’t on the gear shift it was in Cas’ so Sam didn’t mind so much.

Halfway there they got the call that lead the brothers to their final case. To this final moment where Dean’s only regret is that he doesn’t get the chance to be led around between patches of green by Cas as the angel prattles on about one fact or another.

—

It’s not like Cas didn’t know it would happen eventually, inevitably, but he thought he’d be the first to go. He’s the immortal one, and the Winchesters had a knack for surviving.

Still, knowing that something is going to happen, knowing that Sam and Dean would not live forever even though it felt like they should, doesn’t prepare him at all.

Sam and Dean go out like they always promised they would. Fighting. It’s an honourable death but what is the point of an honourable death, Cas wonders, when your loved ones are lost to you.

He drives the impala back to the bunker. He could have flown it but that didn’t feel right. He gets pulled over once and he thinks the officer takes pity on him. Cas can imagine what he looks like, the blue of his puffy eyes contrasting with the veiny red, hair looking like it’s been tugged at—because it has— his chapped gnawed-at lower lip stained red from iron-tasting blood.

He doesn’t make it to the bed he shares with Dean. He pretends it’s because the bedroom is too far down the hall and he’s so tired, but it’s because he can’t bear the sight of it. He stumbles—he is exhausted—into a random room, sheds his trench coat halfway to the bed before he lands on it. Or lands on something on the bed.

SUPERNATURAL by Carver Edlund

It’s the room Charlie would stay in, he knows now. He doesn’t mean to, but he ends up cracking open the book and reading all about the first time Sam and Dean came across the croatoan virus.

It’s the real Dean; the depiction is accurate and these are real events from the hunter’s life, but it’s not really Dean. It grows the already too wide hole inside of Cas. He can’t bring Dean back. But he can’t be without him. So Cas leaves to meet versions of Dean he hasn’t come across before, versions of Dean even Chuck didn’t take the time to write about.

—

Dean is three, almost four, when Cas, invisible, appears in the boy’s Lawrence home. Dean is kneeling on the sofa beside a pregnant Mary who tells him that it’s ok to touch.

“It’s your little brother in there, Dean,” she says.

Dean purses his still thin lips, scratches a hair full of hair that’s only blond like Mary’s in the summer, and says, “That’s where Daddy put him?”

Mary chokes a little when she laughs and moves into a tamed explanation of the birds and the bees.

Cas doesn’t listen; his eyes are peeled on Dean. This little boy who has no idea he’ll one day save a dying sun. This little boy that scrunches his face just like his Dean does, that shakily places a hand on his mother’s belly all false bravado, that has freckles splayed across his cheeks.

All Cas wants to do is to move closer. Is to stare. Is to see if three year-old Dean has all the freckles his Dean has or if some appeared with time. All Cas wants is to hold this boy. To tell him he’s perfect. To tell him he is loved. Cas can’t do any of these things.

He decides that’s unacceptable.

—

At eight Dean already knows how to shoot a firearm, so when the kids in his class want to pretend the sticks they find along the fence of the school lot are guns, he’s happy that one boy wants to stack twigs as high as he can instead.

Every recess, Dean looks for a pair of blue eyes and the darkest hair on the playground and the two go off together. Cas—though Dean calls him Scottie in this vessel—recounts to Dean these wild stories about a pair of heroes, and they run around reenacting them.

In this town, Dean doesn’t mind so much that he’s responsible for getting Sam and himself home to the motel. He doesn’t mind that his dad doesn’t pick them up like all the other kids’ dads do, because Dean gets to linger around the school and hang out with one of his first real friends.

One day, maybe two weeks since Dean transferred to this school, Dean says, “You can be the righteous man this time.” It's awesome that Scottie always lets him play the hero but Dean doesn’t mind trading.

Cas shakes his head. “It has to be you, Dean.”

—

At twelve Dean has seen more horror than most men twice his age, than men thrice his age, so when his new teacher asks Dean why he won’t just apply himself, Dean has a biting retort ready at the tip of his tongue.

Another kid in class speaks up first. Her name is Olive, an army brat that transferred in February just like Dean. She’ll probably get to finish the year here, Dean thinks. He knows he, on the other hand, won’t be around next week.

Cas uses Olive’s voice to rebel for Dean and tells the teacher to promptly fuck off.

Dean laughs, loud and rambunctious, a type of laugh he hasn’t had since Sammy started asking so many questions, then says, “Yeah, sweetheart,” with his trademark-to-be smirk directed at the professor.

Dean gets more than a full week at the school. They end up staying long enough, a solid two months, that John rents a trailer for them. He’s in detention almost every day but it’s okay because so is Olive.

They’re often left alone, so they get up to no good. Trolling the halls of the school after hours, setting up pranks and playing games. Dean thinks Olive must be really smart, must really know how to get inside people’s heads, because she always knows where he stashes himself when they play hide-and-seek. Or maybe she’s just good at looking for things. Or maybe she’s just good at finding Dean.

It’s very Breakfast Club and Olive is the Molly Ringwald to his Judd Nelson. Or maybe not because she’s not much of a princess and all Rebel. Maybe, with her, Dean doesn’t feel quite as angry as Bender anyway.

Until he is twenty nine, Dean will remember her as his first crush.

—

At fifteen, Dean is already a ladies man so he’s kissed a lot of pretty girls, but it’s his first time kissing a pretty boy. His hair is blond and curly (Dean wants to wrap a ringlet around his finger immediately.) and his eyes are blue and bright.

Cas introduces himself to Dean as Noah and they hit it off almost instantly. Noah is the furthest thing from every teenage stereotype Dean’s encountered through hopping from one school to the next. Noah knows too much about everything, more than a fifteen year old should know about anything. He speaks almost methodically and always with intent, and Dean likes that he talks to him more than anyone else.

They hang out in the patch of woods behind the high school and they talk about nonsense but sometimes they talk about things Dean wouldn’t tell another living soul. Things Dean usually doesn’t even dare to think about too loudly in case he taints his surroundings with his personal strand of sick.

Dean thinks Noah’s smile is too wide and earnest to corrupt. Like this boy could take Dean on, bruises and flaws and all.

Sometimes, they don’t talk at all. Dean just sits at the foot of a tree, arms resting on bent knees, and watches Cas watch the plants around them. Cas tells Dean about the different flowers, he picks up ladybugs on his finger tips, and he grins all the while. Dean watches.

John leaves them the impala for emergencies when he goes off on solo hunts now, opting instead for a stolen vehicle. Dean isn’t of age yet but it’s not like he doesn’t have a fake license and it’s not like he didn’t learn to drive years ago, so when Cas brings up the famed botanical garden in Athens, Georgia, just a two towns over, Dean only needs to be cajoled a little to agree to go.

Mostly he wants to see what Noah looks like in the only home he’s known. He looks good. He looks ethereal, with the sun filtering in through Baby’s window, illuminating the boy’s light hair like a halo.

At the garden, Dean allows himself to get dragged around and at first he only really listens to Cas because he likes the sound of his voice, deeper than his appearance suggests. Eventually, though, he listens because Cas tells him things like oak trees are struck by lightning more than any other tree and carrots were originally purple, you know? Dean didn’t know.

Cas is talking about the bees now, about how it’s all there, the whole plan, about how there’s nothing to add. They’re by a bed of sunflowers, tall enough to shade them from the sun, when Dean decides he doesn’t want to hear Cas talk anymore. When he gently places a hand on the blond boy’s elbow to turn him. So that they’re facing each other. So that they’re leaning in. So that their lips brush and press. So that tongues can meet and take and taste.

Noah tastes like honey and something nutty.

John packs them up the very next day. He’s back and he’s got a lead, and he doesn’t allow Sam or Dean to say bye to any of their friends. Dean scolds himself. He should know better by now than to want things he can’t have.

—

Dean’s first solo hunt isn't exactly pre-approved by his father. In fact, Dean sneaks off to pursue the case. He’s freshly turned nineteen, has a GED in his back pocket and no prospects other than the family business. He’s not like Sam who could do so much more, be so much more, not that Dean thinks Sam would ever leave them.

Dean figures if hunting is going to be his career he’s going to have to strike off on his own, eventually. The case he tracks down is supposed to be an easy salt ‘n burn but quickly turns into a multi-haunting situation. Which is where he meets Cas for the umpteenth time, only this time Cas goes by Dylan.

She’s the town’s minister’s daughter, old enough to need convincing to let Cas in but devout enough that it doesn’t take much. He pretends she’s a hunter, showing up at the house Dean is scanning for EMF, as though she’d stumbled on the same case.

Dean might have tried to blow her off, this is his hunt, but Dylan is hot with long, dark, brown hair that’s only a shade lighter than her eyes. Besides, the pair work really well together; it’s uncanny. If Dean didn’t know any better he’d think this wasn’t their first time teaming up.

Once the box of antique gems is salted and burned, Dean wants to take her out, wants to take her to bed, on some level he doesn’t totally comprehend, he wants to take her home.

The Dylan vessel isn’t as strong as the others, however, too far from the Novak bloodline to withstand the toll of containing an angel and his grace. So when Dean proposes they have a drink for a job well done, Castiel turns him down.

—

In his life, Dean falls in love exactly twice and it’s always with Cas. The first time, he calls him Cassie Robinson.

Cas is selfish and wants to keep Dean, like this, naked in the bed of his vessel’s dorm room, forever. But Dean needs to get going, needs to get Sam from Stanford, needs to start on the path that will land him in hell just so Cas can raise him from it. Just so Dean can pull him from heaven. Just so they can be together, really be together, where they’ll always belong.

It surprises Cas, when Dean opens up about hunting, when he tells Cassie all about the life, all about the family business. It breaks Cas’ heart to break Dean’s, to pretend like he doesn’t believe the hunter’s confessions, to pretend like what he wants is for Dean to leave.

—

Cas only watches after that. He can’t risk interacting with both Winchesters, can’t risk Time and Space and the Continuum. Sometimes he thinks it’s more torturous than if he’d stayed in the bunker. Looking and never touching, never talking, never being seen, it chips away at him.

He caves in small doses. He takes over the vessel of a sheriff, of a pathologist, of a mechanic selling parts. They’re brief encounters, mostly case-related, but charged with something Dean can never name.

Dean is twenty-nine and Hell bound when Cas serves him a beer at a dingy bar.

“Something stronger after this,” Dean pauses to read the name tag. “Casey,” he finishes, looking into the familiar blue eyes of the bartender. He double checks the tag, thinking maybe it’ll read Scottie, or Scott he supposes. The man’s name is Casey.

Cas raises a brow at him and Dean feels properly chastised.

“Please.”

“Of course.”

Dean takes him back to his motel, more grateful than ever that he took the week away from Sam, and Cas lets him. Cas thought brief encounters would be enough, but he was wrong. They’re not. Cas is always going to need more.

It’s Dean’s first time with a man and it’s not what he’s imagined over the years but it’s exactly what he expects from Casey. Casey, who tastes like peanuts and something sweet. His calm nature at the bar translates into the way the man opens him up slow and deliberate. It has Dean ready to come before a condom is even rolled on.

The way Cas slips into him is slow too, too slow for Dean. Dean is angry and afraid and he knows it’s only going to get worse. He knows he’s going to hell. Knows what he’ll become there.

He tries to goad Cas into being rougher, into slamming into him harder, into getting Dean to hurt a little so that he doesn’t drown inside himself.

Cas knows what Dean is doing of course, and it’s not what the man needs. If there’s one thing Cas knows it’s how to take care of Dean Winchester.

Turns out, Dean doesn’t need pain to lose himself that night. The languid but hard drag of Cas’ cock inside him, the murmured words against his spine, the firm press of a hand between his shoulder blades, it all takes Dean somewhere else.

Dean hadn’t been touched like this, this tenderly with so much care, since Cassie, but he's been needing to be touched just like this for years. He feels starved for it and Casey keeps giving and giving.

Dean doesn’t realise he’s about to come until he’s already coming. It’s the best—it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had, though not the best he’ll ever have, which makes sense because it’s the first time Cas fucks him.

It knocks the wind out of his chest but Dean still manages to whine out a Case , the nickname he’d chosen for Casey earlier in the night.

If Cas tries hard enough, he can almost hear Dean saying his real name instead.

They go again an hour later, after a heated discussion about something Cas knows riles Dean up, and then again in the morning before a nap. Cas doesn’t sleep but when Dean slips out of bed he pretends to.

He also pretends he doesn’t know why he does it, but it’s definitely because he doesn’t know how to say goodbye to Dean again, one final time. Cas doesn’t want to.

Dean dies for the first time a few weeks after that.

Four months later he meets Castiel. The angel feels so familiar which is maybe why he decides to trust him so quickly, but Dean doesn’t remember any iteration of Cas he’s met up until then. Cas left those memories in the pit, to keep from jeopardising the future. Everything they do, always for the greater good.

Cas doesn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He’s borrowed too much time from Dean’s youth and he can’t interact with him now that Dean has met him, really met him. Cas is alone. He doesn’t see that ever changing.

—

Dean dies for the last time at forty-two.

His most prominent regret, ridiculously enough because Dean has made greater mistakes in his life than this, is that he doesn’t get the chance to be led around at the garden Cas has raved about. Cas had mentioned sunflowers in the garden once, almost shyly as opposed to how he spoke about all the other exhibits. Dean thinks Cas’ tone meant that he wants to be kissed there. Dean plans to kiss him there. He dies thinking that he never will, doesn’t remember that he already has.

Read @reallyelegantsharkfish’s version of this story here if you want to cry

#destiel #destiel fanfiction #destiel drabble #destiel angst #destiel fluff #also #my writing #fanforfanatic #kisses by sunflower beds #spn #spn fanfiction #a little #destiel smut #this premise ruined my mind body and soul

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