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Supernatural Rewrite: Season Three.

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Dear Sammy and Dean,

I know the both of you are probably standing there right now in the motel room, scared out of your minds. But when you realize there was no signs of a struggle, that everything looks to be in its place, you realize I’m gone. I know Dean’s going to say; ‘Son of a bitch. Where did she wander off to? And at a time like this?’ I promise boys, this is for the best, at least, for now. I’m taking everything that you taught me into consideration and making sure to play it safe. Sammy, don’t stress yourself out too much and please realize I’m sorry for what I didn’t do. And Dean, I’m going to find a way to get you out of that deal. I owe that to the both of you. You’ve been nothing but family to me and make so many sacrifices, there’s no reason I can’t do the same for you.

Remember that I love you both and I’m doing this because it will make things right. These past few years have been nothing but an adventure that I’ll never forget. I hope you will understand that I just need some time. I’m strong. And you two sure as hell taught me enough to survive on the road by myself. I just need to do this. Please don’t look for me.

Love, Y/N.

P.S. Oh, and have some fun, Dean. You deserve it. (You too, Sasquatch.)

Sam Winchester sat in the passenger side of the Impala with a book of everything about demons and deals, and the stationary motel letter up in the left hand corner of the page. His attention had been split between the two for the past half an hour, wondering what seemed more important tonight. It had been exactly one week since you wandered off on your own adventures. Sam was driving himself almost mad from trying to figure out how to correct the mistakes of what his brother had done and tracking you down. Dean almost seemed unfazed with everything that was going on, deciding to take your last words to heart. With a year left to live, his brother called up some old flame and decided to have a hell of a night. Sam didn’t mind about that, the man deserved to have a little fun. But it was beginning to bother him that Dean wasn’t worried about you.

His cell phone ringing caused his thoughts to be cut short and eyes jump off the part of the book where the flashlight illuminated the familiar words. Sam let the flashlight roll to the crease of the book before his hand dug inside his jacket pocket, wondering who was calling at this hour. He almost began thinking it was going to be you, but his mood shifted down when he saw the person calling was Bobby. Thinking it could have been something about the recent demon activity, he hit the send button and pressed the phone to his ear. The both of them exchanged a few greetings before Bobby asked the question he seemed to already know the answer to.

“You buried in that book again?” Bobby asked, Sam remained silent as his eyes glanced down at the dusty book again. “Sam, you want to break Dean free of that demon deal, you ain’t gonna find the answer in no book.”

Sam sighed in frustration, “Then where, Bobby?”

“Kid, I wish I knew.” Bobby admitted. But not wasting another moment on the pending doom, he the topic to something more lighthearted. “So, where’s your brother?”

Sam shifted his gaze to the motel window where his saw his brother’s shadowy figure dance across the curtains with a small body trailing behind. He let out an eye roll before shifting his gaze back to the note. “Polling the electorate.” He mumbled out.


“Never mind.”

“Well, you boys better pack it up. I think I finally found something.” Bobby said. Sam opened his mouth to ask what it was about, but it seemed the man knew what is was before he could even speak a word about it. “No, it’s not about Y/N. I found more demon activity. I thought it would be something to keep you both sharp. She’ll come around, Sam. Just give her time.”

+ + +

Rounding up his brother seemed more of a grueling task than he realized. Sam and Dean were back in the Impala with the back roads around them again. The oldest brother seemed to have been in a great mood from the grin that wouldn’t leave his lips as he cruised down the road. Sam, on the other hand, seemed more traumatized from the image that was burned in his memory from what was going on back in that motel room. Yeah, they were close. But there was just things neither one of them should see in their entire lifetime.

“Let me see your knife.” Sam ordered at his brother.

Dean tore his attention away from the road for a moment. “What for?”

“So I can gouge my eyes out.” He answered.

The oldest brother let out a small chuckle, knowing what the other man was hinting around. “It’s a beautiful, natural act, Sam.“ He said, defending what he’d been doing.

"It’s a part of you I never wanted to see, Dean.” Sam mumbled with annoyance from the chuckle that escaped from his brother. “Hey, I appreciate you giving me a little quality time with the doublemint twins.” Dean said, bringing up the previous activity that was happening earlier this night. With everything that had been going on, it seemed his brother wouldn’t be in the mood to have a little fun. But it seemed Sam mumbled something, nodding his head. The older man seemed taken back from the response. “Well, I got to say, I was expecting a weary sigh or an eye roll, something.”

“Not at all.” Sam said. “You deserve to have a little fun.”

“Well, I’m in violent agreement with you there.” Dean chuckled out, all before turning his attention back on the reason why the night was cut short. “So, what’s Bobby got?”

“Not much. Crops failure and a cicada swarm outside of Lincoln Nebraska.” Sam said, explaining what the man had told him over the phone. “Could be demonic omens.”

“Or could just be a bad crop and a bug problem.” Dean suggested.

“But it’s our only lead.” Sam pointed out.

Dean let out a sigh from that thought, “Any freaky deaths?”

“Nothing Bobby could find–not yet, anyway. Even said he couldn’t find anything on where Y/N is, either.” Sam said, slipping in a name that made his brother roll his eyes from the thought. He gave his brother a confused look from the response he wasn’t expecting. “Everything that’s been going on and that’s how you’re gonna react? She’s been missing for almost a week, Dean.”

“Y/N’s a big girl. She survive on her own for a few days.” Dean said, distracting himself from the thought. But his brother could see the grip on the steering wheel turn slightly harder. He had been pretty calm about you up and leaving like this, saying something about getting everything out of your system before tracking you down. But the younger brother was wondering if the man was too busying having fun to realize the danger that could be out there. “Well, have you tried looking for her? You’re the one looking like a lost puppy.”

“I’ve been trying to pinpoint her location for the past two days. It’s like she dropped off the face of the earth. I think we taught her too well.” Sam said, brushing off his brother’s previous comment with patience that he had left. “Her cell has been off, too. So that’s a bust.”

“I wouldn’t say that so soon, Sparky. While you had your nose in the book, I’ve been working myself. I have connections back in Chicago, a cute little brunette who happens to be an officer. I met her on a case a while back and we shared a few good nights together. Boy, was she something.” Dean began to almost mumble to himself, losing thought from the memories that began to flood his mind. Sam cleared his throat, obviously not wanting to take another awkward moment between the both of them. “Anyway, she did me a favor. She’s been keeping an eye on Y/N’s phone. And guess what? She called me this morning to tell me some news. Y/N’s phone turned back on. And you won’t believe where the signal was coming from–Lincoln, Nebraska.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed at the familiarity of the name. There had been sixteen other sightings of possible demon activity, he wondered if you were working the same angle. But it seemed there was some kind of good karma working its way around today. “How good was she?”

“Sammy, you sly dog. You know I don’t kiss and tell.” Dean joked, making a smirk spread across his lips. But the glare coming from his younger man was clear enough he wasn’t in the mood to joke. “She found a hotel address and everything. We’ll swing by with Bobby first before tracking her down. Y/N’s little adventure is about to be cut short.”

+ + +

Your fingers subconsciously ran through the roots of your hair, all the way to the ends that were shorter than you last remembered, letting your grip fly into the air. It felt sort of strange to feel a few less inches than you were accustomed to, but it was the sort of change that you needed. A day ago you had gotten yourself a much needed haircut to symbolize the beginning of the end that was approaching faster than you realized. You were mentally preparing yourself to leave the lifestyle of hunting and the Winchester brothers in the dust. It wasn’t something you wanted your life to come to, but you had no other choice. There was no chance you were going to survive with the idea that Dean was burning in Hell and Sam was roaming the earth with the last person he called family. So, you bargained with what you could offer to a demon and sold your soul away.

The morning sunlight reflected off your sunglasses as the rental car made its way down the dusty back roads of some farmland you’ve been keeping an eye on for the past few days. All sorts of strange behavior had been going on in the town you were staying in from the reported crop failure to an enormous bug infestation. You were going to poke your nose in to see if this was something caused of demonic omens. If not, you had a list of other cities to choose from to get your part of the deal over with. Even though you had months before the time slipped out, you wanted it done and over before things could get worse. And knowing those boys with Bobby at their side, they were going to lose patience and track you down before you could finish.

But you had to admit one thing, hunting without two other people was quite harder than you thought it would be. You didn’t have Sam’s brains to help figure out what something said in Latin or any other sort of freaky knowledge he kept. And Dean’s compartment of weapons wasn’t too shabby, either. Deep down, you missed them and guilt would creep back inside your mind if you thought too much about it, but you reminded yourself that this was for the best.

Your eyes trailed down from the roads and at your open palm for a moment. The faint scar of what you had done to make the first deal crossed your mind, which reminded you of the horrendous thing pumping through your veins. Just because the demon was dead, it didn’t mean that things were getting better. That was another reason why you ran. So they couldn’t see what monster might come of this. You knew Sam and those children had strange effects from the visits at the age of six months. It must have took them years before things turned south. Seven days had only passed and you were seeing more small things happen in the past come up more frequently. This was enough to know you weren’t going to see what the demon had planned out.

The sight of the farmhouse caught you off guard, breaking yourself from thought so you could focus on going down the dirt road. You straightened yourself in the front seat as you pulled up to a spot that seemed appropriate enough to park. Killing the engine, you let out a quiet sigh before you twisted around in your seat to dip a hand inside your bag that was filled with different objects you’d been carrying around. You grabbed a stolen gun you lifted up from the brothers before leaving and a fake badge you’d somehow kept from a previous case you worked on. You lifted yourself up in the seat just enough so the gun could be slipped into the back of your jeans, before you shoved your shirt down to conceal the weapon. You glanced down at the badge once more before you placed the object into your pocket. Opening up the car door, you stepped outside to the morning breeze that softly blew to keep the warm temperatures down.

A chorus of chirping cicadas greeted you when you stood outside for a moment. The noise was almost felt like the vibrations were painfully ringing inside your ears from how loud they were buzzing away. Never have you seen these kind of insects so out of control. But your attention slowly shifted to the front door of the house, wondering if the owners knew they had a serious bug problem. You headed for the porch steps and walked to the door, you knocked a few times to see if anyone would answer.

A married couple and their teenaged son lived on the grounds. There was speculation beginning to arise when unmarked absence began to tally up to a week for the son and the father was a no show at his work. Maybe the family was having a bit of fun, going on a spur of the moment vacation nobody knew about. But you were wondering if something else was going on since the strange behavior added up to the opening of the devil’s gates.

You pushed your sunglasses up to the top of your head, brushing away your hair as you knocked one more time, louder and rougher until your knuckles ached. Seconds passed by without anyone answering. Either nobody was home or someone wasn’t in the mood for visitors. Out of your own curiosity, you quietly headed for the other side of the porch to see if by chance there were any windows you could peek inside. Maybe they were antisocial people who didn’t want to be disturbed. As you rounded the corner and headed for a window with the curtains parted halfway, you pressed your face against the glass to see inside the living room. You stumbled across the family, all right, but they weren’t exactly what you’d pictured them to be.

The family of three were sitting on the couch, enjoying some quality time together. But what threw you off was the fact that you couldn’t see anyone moving, let alone breathing. You tried knocking on be window a times to see if that would break their concentration on the TV. Still, they wouldn’t move a single inch. It didn’t take much convincing to know that something was off about this family, and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to invite yourself in. You could a door not too far from where you were standing, as you headed over to the door, you wondered if it was locked. Slowly, you reached out a hand and wrapped it around the cold knob, twisting it until you expected it to budge. But to your surprise, the door opened without a problem.

You waited a moment to start running for the hills from the random instructions you were setting up on them. All that you could hear was the noise coming from the TV, giving you a sign to step inside the house. As you stepped on the wooden floors, an arm immediately shot up to your face to cover it when you got a small whiff of decomposing body. You coughed a few times, trying to get used to the heinous smell before you started gagging. The family of three sat on the couch with an appearance that was clear enough to see that they were good as dead. From how their bodies seemed to have withered away to nothing and flies that were laying eggs on their skin, you wondered what happened.

The house seemed fairly quiet enough to make it known somebody wasn’t lurking in the shadows for fun. You decided to take a sweep of the house to be safe, wondering if there could be some of clue that would tell you what was going on. You made your way through the halls, peeking inside most of the rooms to see there was nobody around. As you stepped out from the bedroom, you stopped in your tracks when a booming voice from outside shouted, “Candygram!” An eye roll was about to escape you from how tacky companies could be, but you knew the sounds of someone picking the lock wasn’t exactly a good sign to stick around in plain sight, either.

You barely managed to get out of sight before the front door opened, about three different pairs of footsteps coming inside the home. Finding shelter in one of the rooms for a moment, you kept your breathing to a minimum as you heard the footsteps becoming quieter. You waited a minute or so before your fingers brushed against the gun you kept hidden. You quietly made your way out o the room, cautiously glancing around the hallway to see if anyone was there, but the coast seemed to have been clear. As you stepped out for a moment to hear where the strangers could have gone, you suddenly felt something cold and hard press against the back of your temple.

It didn’t take much realization that someone was holding a gun against the back of your head, making you freeze. “Easy there, sweetheart. Stay exactly where you are.” The voice was male and low, sounding almost familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it just yet. You could feel a hand lift up your shirt just enough to see the gun you had hidden, slipping out the gun and rendering you defenseless. There was a moment of silence before you heard him speak again, but this time, to himself. “What the hell?”

Suddenly you were spinning around on your heels to come face to face with the strange. But it turns out the person you were standing right across from was a familiar face, after all. “Oh, you’ve got to be freaking kidding me.” You hissed underneath your breath. “What the hell are you doing here, Dean?”

He opened his mouth, probably to make a sarcastic remark, but the words died at the tip of his tongue when you heard the sounds of a female scream echo through the home. You could see his face jump in surprise from the noise, wondering if someone was in danger. But you knew it was coming from the TV. When you tried to explain what was going on, he had the audacity to shush you like a small child. You rolled your eyes, allowing him to make the gruesome discovering in the living room. He disappeared from your sight after giving a signal to stay put for the moment before you snatched the gun away. The house was quiet for a moment before you heard a few voices shouting in disgust. If the smell wasn’t terrible before, they got the worst whiff of their life.

You headed back to the living room to see the brothers were trying their hardest not to breathe too much of the smell. Pinching your nose again, you forced yourself to walk deeper into the room as you examined the bodies once more. You didn’t notice from before, but there was no sign of restraints on the family or struggle. It was like they sat down on the couch and never got back up for anything. Footsteps coming from the other room brought your attention to see that Bobby was along to see what was going on. He stopped in his tracks to see the sight he wasn’t expecting. But it wasn’t long before you could feel his attention slip to you for a moment. Everyone was itching to start asking questions of where you’ve been. You spoke up first, directing the focus back on the decomposing bodies in front of all of you.

“Bobby, do you know what’s going on?” You asked the man, guesting your arm to the bodies. “I got here a few minutes go. Doesn’t exactly seem normal.”

The man shrugged his shoulders, seeming lost for answer. “I don’t know. Beats me.”

“Check for sulfur.” Dean suggested to all of you.

Setting your attention on the doorways, you headed over and focused your attention on the handle to see if you could find the familiar yellow substance anywhere in particular. There was enough evidence to know that demons were lurking around the city, but you were curious to see if they were having some fun with people. But your focus was broken after a moment when you heard someone softly whistle. You looked over your shoulder to see Dean crouched on the floor just across from the window, but you could see a shadowy figure quickly pass by before it disappeared from sight. Knowing all of you had some more unwanted company, you pulled the gun back out after Dean signaled for Bobby and Sam to take a sweep of the front, you and him would take the back.

You headed behind the man as the others disappeared from sight, watching as he waited a moment before opening the door and taking a scan of the porch, seeing that the coast was clear for now. He nodded his head for you to take the left side of the house. You slipped past him and began to quietly walk to the corner, taking a moment before popping your head to the side to see the coast was clear for the most part. When you saw Bobby coming from the front door, it seemed that his part was safe from harm. But a second passed before you heard the sound of someone’s familiar grunts and groans echo through the air. sound of someone’s body hitting the ground wasn’t exactly a good sign, either.

You and Bobby traced your steps back to where you had left Dean for a moment, but you saw that it was enough time for him to slip into some trouble. The man was lying on the ground and two people hovering over him, another man was pointing a shotgun directed at Dean’s head. But it almost seemed like today was a reunion of fellow hunters when you saw Bobby seem surprised at the familiar faces. A smile spreading across his lips as he headed forward. “Isaac? Tamara?”

“Bobby,” The woman named Tamara spoke in a British accent, her face seeming to light up from seeing the fellow hunter. You gave the couple a smile when you trailed behind the man, seeming they weren’t much of a threat, after all. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Bobby said.

Isaac greeted the man with a toothy grin, but still kept the gun pointed at Dean like he almost forgot about the man. “Heya, Bobby.”

The two men reached to shake hands for a moment, but your attention shifted downwards for a moment from the arm suddenly popping between you and Bobby. You let out a small laugh when you accidentally forgot about Dean. “Hello! Bleeding here.” He called out, waving around an arm for someone to take. You managed to somehow use what strength you had and lifted the man back on his two feet. Most of the damage was almost unrecognizable, but knowing the man, he liked to dramatise things for a moment. He brushed off whatever invisible dirt that landed on his clothes as Isaac apologized for the mistake. You looked over your shoulder when you heard footsteps coming from behind you.

Sam returned from his inspection to see everyone huddled together. He gave the couple a smile, seeming to understand that they must have been fellow hunters. Everyone exchanged formal greetings for a moment before you pulled out your phone. “It was nice meeting you both. But if you excuse me for a moment, I’ll call this in to the cops.“ You said, giving them both a smile. As you began to walk away from the crowd, you look up for a moment to see that someone was following behind. "Dean, I got this. You don’t have to stick around.”

“Nah. I don’t mind.” Dean said, shrugging off your offer. He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. You wanted to let out a frustrated sigh when you saw them fly into the air and land directly in Sam’s awaiting palm. “Y/N and I will wait for the cops and figure out that the hell is going on.”

“Really,” You mumbled to the man with a forced smile to prove your annoyance. “You don’t have to stay.”

Dean let out a quiet chuckle, seeming to find your protests nothing short of amusing. He took a step forward so be was standing by too far from you, it was so what he said was only meant for you to hear. “Like I’m gonna you out of my sight again.”

+ + +

Darkness fallen a few hours ago with everyone heading back to Isaac and Tamara’s house after spending the afternoon with cops. You could see they were hunters from the amount of strange objects they had scattered around the place and the walls pinned with familiar sorts of design. You had managed to keep everything between you and the brothers like nothing happened, dodging off sketchy glances and pending questions they were curious to ask. It was wishful thinking that you could keep all of the interactions to a minimum before you could slip away again. But it was almost hard enough to get a peaceful moment to think without having one of the boys hovering over you like a second shadow, like you were going to flee away this very second.

“Honey, where’s the palo santo?” Isaac asked his wife, looking around at all the weapons and objects lying around. But it seemed what he was looking for wasn’t popping out.

“Well, where’d you leave it?” She tried to retrace his steps to see where it was last, but it seemed her husband wasn’t quite sure himself. Their little moment of battering made a small smile spread across your lips, finding it adorable of how much they acted like any normal married couple.

“I don’t know, dear.” Isaac muttered. “That’s why I’m asking.”

“Palo santo?” You curiously asked the couple.

“It’s holy wood from Peru. It’s toxic to demons like holy water. Keeps the bastards nailed down while you’re exercising them.” She explained to you, heading over to her husband. You watched as she looked through a few things before she pulled out a stake and handed it to Isaac. A smirk spread across her lips when she looked at the man. He mumbled a thank you, examining the object to see its perfection like he remembered. “You’d lose your head if it wasn’t for me.”

He couldn’t help himself but let an amused smile from the small bantering between the lovers that was almost comical. “So, how long you two been married?” He asked. Crossing his arms over his chest, you leaned against one of the many tables scattered around after examining a few different things he’d never seen before.

“Eight years this past June.” Tamara said, glancing over at her husband with a smile.

Isaac leaned over to give his wife a kiss on the forehead to show his affection. “The family that slays together…”

“Right. I’m with you there. So, how’d you get started?” The question accidentally rolled out of your mouth, not seeming to remember that most people start in this lifestyle because of a painful past that brought light on the creatures that lurked in the darkness. But the sullen look that began to sink into Tamara’s face made you feel like you’d shoved your entire foot in your mouth from how insensitive you were. “Oh, you know…I’m sorry. It’s not—that’s none of my business.”

"It's—It’s all right.” Tamara said, brushing off whatever open wounds you must have ripped open by accident. But you could feel your attention linger away for a moment from the awkward tension the question brang up when you heard Dean’s voice echo through the room again. For once today, you were happy he was around again.

Dean might have been a womanizer that seemed to have focus too much on pleasure than work, but it worked well enough on the ladies that fell for his flirtatious charm. “Well, Jenny, if you look as pretty as you sound, then I’d loved to have an appletini.” His face scrunched up from the offer, not sure what that alcoholic drink was. A moment later, he wrapped up the call. “That was the coroner’s tech.”

"And?” You asked the man.

“Get this—that whole family, cause of death—dehydration and starvation.” Dean explained, making everyone thrown off from that news. “There’s no signs of restraint, no violence, no struggle. They just sat down and never got up.”

“But there was a fully stocked kitchen just yards away.” Bobby pointed out.

“What is this, a demon attack?” Sam asked the older man.

“if it is, it’s not like anything I ever saw,” Bobby admitted. “And I’ve seen a lot.”

“What now? What should we do?” Dean brought up a few valid questions.

But it seemed the fellow hunters weren’t feeling so nice about welcoming some company to join the fight, Isaac at least seemed happy to share his opinion. “Uh, we’re not gonna do anything. You guys seem nice enough, but this ain’t ‘Scooby-doo,’ and we don’t play well with others.”

Sam’s face scrunched up from the sudden hostility the man was giving you. All afternoon everyone seemed fine working together to figure out what happened to the family. But before you could dig deeper and pull the resources together, Isaac was acting like all of you were bad company that needed to leave. “We’d cover a lot more ground if we all worked together.”

“No offense,” Isaac began, you crossed your arms over your chest to hear his excuse. “but we’re not teaming with the damn fools who let the devil’s gate get open in the first place.”

Isaac had a valid point, but there were more reasons of what happened that night he wouldn’t get. And he sure wasn’t giving you room to explain yourselves. “Mhmm. Like you’ve never made a mistake.” You muttered underneath your breath, finding yourself just as snippy to the man.

“Yeah, locked my keys in the car, turned my laundry pink.” Isaac seemed to have heard your comment, listing off a few common things people do. You glanced over at him when his voice hardened. “Never brought on the end of the world, though.”

You opened your mouth, getting ready to have a few choice words with the man, but before you could have you chance, someone stopped you. Dean let out a sarcastic chuckle, reaching out a hand to wrap around your arm, giving you a warning squeeze. “All right. That’s enough.” He said, trying to take control of the situation. But it was only the halfway point.

“Look, there are a couple hundred more demons out there now. We don’t know where they are, when they’ll strike. There ain’t enough hunters in the world to handle something like this.” Isaac said, seeming comfortable enough to let his frustrations out on everyone. “You brought war down on us—on all of us.”

"Okay. That’s quite enough testosterone for now.” Tamara finally jumped into the argument. She tugged at her husband’s arm and forced him out of the room so he could take a moment to gather his thoughts before any more words could be exchanged. You watched as they disappeared into the other side of the house, leaving the four of you to repeat the words the man spoke.

+ + +

“I’ve seen a lot of things for what girls will do for fashion,“ You commented underneath your breath, glancing over at Sam who was standing at your side through the heavy crowd of shoppers and onlookers. A young woman was lying on the sidewalk after another one somehow went insane, stalking the victim outside until something inside her snapped and bashed the woman’s skull on a car windshield until she left her for dead, bleeding on the sidewalk. All of this happened because the victim bought a pair of shoes she desperately longed for. "But I have to admit, this might be the strangest thing yet. Maybe a demon seen Wizard of Oz a few too many times.”

Sam didn’t seem to find your comment not so funny when he tossed you a glare to keep quiet with the sarcastic remarks. There wasn’t much to be seen outside as you both headed back into the shop to see where Dean was hiding out since arriving not that long ago. He had went on about wanting to interview a few people to see what they saw. Bobby had mentioned earlier going to woman who was in police custody to see if there was another reason for her sudden violent outburst, all of you agreeing to meet back at the shop from where it all happened. But it seemed someone wasn’t following in their plans. You crossed your arms over your chest when you saw Dean speaking to a young woman that must have been an employee, but she wasn’t doing the talking, he was. The man might not have much time left on this earth, but he sure wasn’t wasting it.

“What happened outside makes you realize how fragile life really is. You got to make every second count.” Dean was going on with some cheap speech. His hands on her shoulder with the woman hanging on his every word from how she was staring at him. You cleared your throat loud enough for the both of them to realize you and Sam were standing here. “Excuse me a minute, would you?”

The woman gave all of you a polite smile as she walked away, obviously getting herself back to work. You glanced back over at the older man, beginning to wonder if he was really interviewing people or just using this murder as a cheap excuse to flirt. “Dean, what are you doing?” You asked him in a curious voice.

“I’m comforting the bereaved.” He said. You raised your eyebrows at him from the smart mouth question he tried using on you. “What are you doing.”

“Working. You might want to try it some time, idiot.” You said, shaking your head. “Dead body, possible demon attack—all that kind of stuff.”

Dean thought it would be good to milk this little act of trying to get sympathy from you and his little brother. He coughed a few times, trying to suddenly act like he was struggling to keep himself from keeling over, like he was going to die in the next upcoming days. You only rolled your eyes at how immature he was being, Sam, on the other hand, was beginning to feel the guilt.

“Guys, I’m sorry. It’s just I don’t have much time left, and,” Dean sealed the deal by letting out another terrible cough, but you drew up an arm and whacked him hard enough on the back to make him wince. You smile at him, knowing you weren’t going for it as you brushed it off as a way to help from the sudden coughing fit. “I got to make every second count.”

“Yeah. Right.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath, seeming to fall for the act. “Sorry.”

"Apology accepted.” Dean said, cracking a smile from how his brother acted. You shook your head in disagreement, but your attention soon shifted back to Bobby, who seem to have changed into a totally different person. The man had ditched his normal clothes for a pretty nice looking suit. From the few years you’ve known him, never did you see him this dressed up before. Dean whistled in astonishment from the transformation. “Whoa. Looking spiffy, Bobby. What were you, a g-man?”

“Attorney for the D.A.’s office.” Bobby said, fixing his tie around in the mirror before focusing his gaze on the three of you. “I just spoke to the suspect.”

“Yeah? So, what do you think?” Sam asked the older man. “Is she possessed or what?”

“Don’t think so. There’s none of the usual signs—no blackouts, no loss of control. Totally lucid.” Bobby explained to all of you, seeming to make this woman a serious fashionista who wasn’t afraid to spill some blood to get what she wanted. “Just, she really wanted those shoes. Spilled a glass of holy water on her just to be sure. Nothing.”

"Maybe she’s just some random whack job.” Dean guessed, but his attention seemed to have shifted downwards when you watched his eyes trail over the woman he was speaking to earlier. You cleared your throat, making the man cut his attention away when he realized he was caught. Nodding your head to Bobby, you made him at least pretend to listen for the time being.

“If it had been an isolated incident, maybe, but first the family, now this? I believe in a lot of things. Coincidence ain’t one of them.” Bobby said. “Did you kids find anything around here?”

“No sulfur.” Sam admitted, shaking his head from the lack of some sort of evidence to prove what was going on. “Nothing.”

“Well, maybe something.” Dean said. His head turned to look over his shoulder, you didn’t know what he was staring at until you caught the security camera hovering up on the wall. Part of you was surprised that even you didn’t catch that right away. “See? I’m working.”

“Mhmm. Why don’t you work that little butt over to your friend? See if she can get us access to those tapes.” You suggested to the oldest brother, giving him a smile from the annoyed look that crossed over his face. “You’re a doll.”

It was a few minutes later before all of you were standing around the cameras, playing the exact moments leading up to the murder. Everything seemed to have been normal; the women were focusing almost all of their attention on flipping through clothes and shoes. Neither one of them acknowledged each other or on what they were debating on buying. You almost were wondering if the woman was just crazy, but you knew the reason for what made her snapped walked right through the door. A man strolled through the shop, his gaze focused on the woman at the clearance rack. They exchanged a few words before he placed his hand on her shoulder, his gaze lingering on the victim before she died.

“Might just be a guy,” Sam speculated, who had been the one focusing the most on the tapes for now. “Or it might be our guy.”

+ + +

Two hours seemed to have felt more like torture from the stakeout you suggested. Everyone had been working nonstop of trying to figure out who the mystery man from the security shop was. Dean had managed to find out he was quite popular in a certain local bar. You thought it would have been an easy enough job where the brothers would allow you at least to do this yourself. Of course, the idea was quickly shot down after the oldest happily agreed to keep you company. But from the death glare that was beginning to stretch across his face, you knew he was regretting all of this. You had retaliated by ignoring all the cheap attempts at him trying to draw you into a reason for leaving that week.

You let out an unwanted yawn when the feeling of sleep began to settle back in your mind. Not even the coffee you chugged earlier was helping. The seats were rather comfortable, leaving the idea of drifting off cross as a suggestion. But you made yourself blink a few times, hoping a sudden rush of adrenaline would keep you from falling asleep at the wheel. “What time is it?” You asked the dreaded question, not wanting to look at the clock on the dashboard.

Dean lifted up his jacket sleeve to glance down at his watch, “Seven past midnight.”

“Are you sure this is the place?” You asked him, leaving the conversation to the case.

“No. But I spent all day canvassing this stupid town with this guy’s stupid mug,” Dean admitted, snatching the printed screenshot photo of the security camera of the man. He looked at it with the utmost annoyance from how much work had been involved in tracking this stranger down. “And, supposedly, he drinks at this stupid bar.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out the slightest chuckle from how viciously annoyed he was acting about the whole ordeal. You shifted around your gaze from the bar for a moment to see a young couple strolling through the streets, making you remember the couple you’d met not even a day ago. Glancing back at Dean, you found yourself asking him something you thought wouldn’t come up in conversation, between the both of you, at least.

“Do you think it’s possible?” The look on his face was written with confusion, not sure what you were hinting around. “Tamara and Isaac. Both of them are hunters. And they’re married, too. Kind of makes you think.”

“You think we could make a better couple? Sure would beat them on being the best looking, that’s for sure.” Dean sarcasm seemed to have been shining tonight, making you roll your eyes at how he could dodge a question. But you were curious to know the real answer he’d been trying to hide from you.

He’s always been a man that found romance in one night stands and flings which never lasted long. You wondered if there could be someone else beside that mystery girl Dean spoke about months ago that could have changed his typical ways. The identity of wanting to know who she was wouldn’t leave your mind for months. Maybe she was still alive, waiting ever so patiently for him. The man didn’t have much time left on this Earth, but you remembered the deal you’d made before leaving. Maybe this could be his realization that life was too short, go after someone he’s truly once loved.

You glanced back over at Dean when you thought about what he’d previously said. A smile crept across your lips as a small laugh escaped you, something which you haven’t done since leaving. It felt sort of nice to share this type of moment again. No awkwardness. “Yeah, right. We fight like an old married couple. That part is down. But you really should work on that whole monogamy part of the relationship down.” You joked, patting him on the arm. “Besides, you really think you would date someone like me? I always thought you were head over heels for that mystery girl. And you know, I still don’t know her name.”

“And you never will.” Dean mumbled, shifting around in his seat from the moment you began speaking about someone he’d wanted to forget all about. You furrowed your eyebrows, he just shrugged his shoulders. “Why are you suddenly so curious to know who she is?”

“Because I want to know, that’s why.” You said, not backing down until he answered. “Who was so special that made the infamous Dean Winchester fall head over heels for? And it’s not like we have anything else better to do, really.”

Dean gave you an annoyed look from what you said, but he shifted around in his seat until his gaze lingered to the bar not that far away. You waited ever so patiently until you could feel his eyes slowly lingering over to you, a second passed before his mouth opened to answer your question. You turned in your seat so your focus was kept on him, almost forgetting about the scenery around you and the reason you were both here. But what came out wasn’t an answer, but more of a terrified noise when something came slamming down on the passenger side window. The both of you jumped in fright from what had happened, but you could feel a frown stretching across your lips when you saw Sam standing outside.

“That’s not funny!” Dean yelled at his brother, giving the man a dirty look when he opened up the backseat door to slip himself inside. Sam related by kicking the man’s seat, adjusting his frame so he could comfortably fit in the small place.

“All right. So, John Doe’s name is Walter Rosen. He’s from Oak Park, just west of Chicago.” Sam explained, sticking his head between the seats to see the both of you. “Went missing about a week ago.”

“The night the Devil’s Gates opened.” You said, Sam nodded his head. The man was pretty far away from home, nobody really wandered away without telling anyone and might have the power to have someone bash a another person’s skull open without some kind of extra trick up their sleeve. You wondered something what could have been the reason for all of this, despite the lack of any sort of evidence back at the scene. “Do you think he’s possessed?”

“Well, it’s a safe bet. So, what,” Sam said trying to make sense of what was going on. “he just walks up to someone, touches them, and they go stark raving psycho?”

“Those demons that got out of the gate—they’re gonna do things we haven’t seen before.” You said, presuming Hell had a few special kind that seemed to have been locked up for a reason. “I think we should—”

“Wait,” Sam cut you off from what you were trying to suggest, seeming to think that correcting your grammar was more important matters. “You mean the demons we let out?”

You opened your mouth to retaliate at the comment Sam thought was appropriate enough to slip into conversation, he’d been doing that more than normal since you’d gotten back. But before anything could come out, Dean was pulling the both of you back into reality, pointing at the headlights that poured through the window before you watched as a car pulled not far from where all of you were. You waited for a moment until the driver stepped out, and of course, it was none other than Walter. He began walking directly to the bar like the routine. You reached out a hand to open the door handle, but someone snatched your wrist, making you sit back in your seat.

“Wait a minute. You said it yourself, Y/N. We don’t know what to expect out of this guy.” Sam said, trying to be the voice of reason here. But you weren’t listening to him, all you kept thinking about was the second plan of action that you knew wouldn’t fail. “We should tail him till we know for sure.”

“Oh, so he kills someone and we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?” You questioned, your tone coming out harsher than you realized. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, you’re no good dead.” Sam pointed out the little fact, making his voice slightly. You rolled your eyes from the point he was trying to make. Yanking your arm away, you tried making a quick getaway to get this plan started, but he spoke again, making you freeze in your spot. “What? You leave for a week and come back with a brand new attitude?”

You can feel the grip on the door handle turn knuckle white from his comment. You look over your shoulder to stare at the man, throwing daggers from how blunt he was being. But you forced yourself into taking a deep breath, refraining yourself from making an unwanted remark you’d surely regret. “Look, just give me fifteen minutes. That’s all I’m asking. Just to see how many people are inside and what not. I got Bobby coming for backup. He should be here in the next few minutes. I’ll be fine. Okay?“

You stared at the brothers for the longest time before Dean let out a sigh of defeat, waving you on to head inside by yourself. Sam, on the other hand, seemed to have disagreed with the idea from the scoff that escaped him as he rolled his eyes. You opened up the door and slipped yourself out, seeing that the parking lot was clear of anyone from coming. You noticed when you stepped inside, the place was pretty dead for it being this time of night. But your attention shifted to Walter, who was sitting at the bar, enjoying himself a beer. You pretended to mind your own business as you settled for a barstool that wasn’t too far from the small group that was huddled at the end. The best way to blend into an unfamiliar crowd; act like you belonged.

A bartender from the other side took your order, deciding to cut a bit loose and enjoy. You knew it would be a bit weird if you were to just sit here for the next few minutes and stare at a man. As a blonde woman headed for the jukebox to bring some life into this quiet atmosphere, you looked over your shoulder when you heard the entrance door opened, just in time to see. A few familiar faces stepped inside the bar, the married couple—Isaac and Tamara, took a table just across from where Walter was sitting. You knew they weren’t here for a date night. Either they were following the trail you and the brothers were making, or perhaps, they were quick at catching up to the competition. Things had just went from bad to worse.

You shifted around in your seat when you stared at the couple for a moment after a waitress took their order and headed back to the bar. And to make matters only worse, you looked up just in time to see Walter look over his shoulder just enough to stare at the couple before directing his eyes to you for a split second. But it seemed it could have been paranoia making you jumpy. The man took one more sip of his drink before snatching out a cigarette from his pocket and placing it in his mouth. Like the previous attempts from before, you knew the plan was backfiring when the man got up from his seat as he headed for the back alley for a quick smoke. If you were alone, you would be following behind the man.

You winced when you heard the suddenly shrieking sound of your cell phone going off, the noise echoing through the quietness. You fumbled to get the phone out in time as you glanced down at the person was calling. Before you could think of a better plan, you were hitting a button and pressing the phone to your ear. “Hey, honey.” You were greeting Dean with the first idea that came to mind, hoping your plan would work enough to let you slip away. When you turned your head, you knew it was time to go when you saw the couple getting ready to make their move.

“Y/N, look, you gotta start wrapping things up.” Dean’s voice was nothing short of serious, like you didn’t know. “Some extra company just headed your way. Bobby knows these people, they shoot first and ask questions later. We just think it's’ better if you head back.”

Your eyes glanced over at the couple, they were sharing a moment together before Isaac was going to tail Walter. Getting up from your seat first, you shoved a hand inside your pocket to pull out a ten for the drink and tip. "I know it’s late. But I wanted to drink to celebrate.” You continued on with a fake story, watching from the corner of your eye as Isaac got up from his chair first. Letting out a swear word, you knew it was time to make a getaway before things could get any worse. But before you could take even five steps, you stopped in your tracks from what happened next. “Goddamn it.”

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Isaac began heading to trail behind the man, but was stopped when another man, that even from his appearance, seemed intimidating enough not to mess with. You watched as the man turned the hunter around for a confrontation. “What do you think you’re doing?” He questioned, his voice was hard and cold. Everyone turned their attention to see what the commotion was about, Tamara jumped up from her seat, not expecting for this to happen so quickly.

“I’m just hitting the head.” Isaac tried explaining.

“No. I mean,” The man said, not seeming to fall for the lie. You swallowed when you realized that you might have jumped the gun on this one, watching as the man’s eyes turned to a familiar inky black. The flask that Isaac was previously holding in his grip went flying after the man snatched it out of his hands, hitting the floors and skidding somewhere else. “What do you think you’re doing here? I don’t like hunters in my bar.”

You knew things were about to get messy, but you were trying your hardest to remain calm. Managing to shift around so the cell phone was back in your pocket, you barely thought getting the own flask you had hidden in your pocket before you were attempting at snatching it out. You hid it underneath the bar top before you could feel it slipping out of your grip, feeling someone suddenly reach from behind and tightly grip your wrist. You turned your head to see that the man in the suit was standing right next to you, a sort of arrogant smirk spreading across his lips from discovering another hunter.

"Look what I found. They just think they’re so clever.” He proudly proclaimed, yanking you forward so you were now being brought to the middle of the room where Tamara and Isaac were being surrounded. You knew from staring at the other people that there had to be seven demons in total. Like this wasn’t hard before, you knew you were in way over your head now. But if that wasn’t enough, you suddenly turned your head forward to the door, hearing the sounds of something loudly thunking against it, trying to break it down. Of course, the brothers. They sure weren’t helping the situation.

“Man,” The demon who was possessing Walter came back from his hiding spot, seeming to know that he was being followed this entire time. His lips stretched into a smirk as you watched his eyes flickered black. “You really walked into the wrong place.” But if the taunting wasn’t enough from the demon, his eye trailed over to Tamara for a moment. “Wish I had me a girl like that.”

“I can think about a thousand things I’d like to do to her.” The blonde said, eyeing the woman.

“You’re not gonna lay one filthy finger on her!“ Isaac snapped at the demons, obviously not finding their comments the least bit amusing.

You knew if these demons were looking for some fun, you weren’t going to let the cougle get dragged down further until this mess. "Wait, come on. Leave them be.” You spoke up, hoping this desperate plan was going to work. “I’m pretty sure they can’t handle whatever you want. Don’t you want to play with someone that’s a bit more…on your level, per say?”

The demon seemed to have thought about your proposition for a long moment, like they were considering of letting the other two hunters loose. But you knew it was all just an act from what they were really planning. They wanted an audience, you and Tamara were perfect. “It’s a cute idea, sweetheart. But I have something else in mind.” The bartender remarked, a grin spreading across his lips when you caught sight of the cleaning product in his hands. Your face dropped when you realized it was a drain cleaner, and it was meant for Isaac. He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, “I got something for you. Here, have a drink on me, hmm?”

Tamara called out her husband’s name when he wouldn’t protest, but before you or the other woman could intervene on this mess, a demon was snatching her backwards and forcing her to watch this situation come undone. It was almost like a horror movie that was slowly happening when you watched as everyone began laughing maniacally, like what Isaac was about to do was the best thing they’d seen all day. You knew the man couldn’t fight the urges anywhere when the bottle slowly came to his lips, letting the cleaner slide down his throat. You wanted to do something so badly, but you were forced to see the scene unfold of a man being forced to kill himself in front of his wife as she desperately plead for him to snap out of the trance. Sometime you thought you’d seen the worse in this lifestyle, but somehow, it always gets worse.

When the substance was finally inside his system, Isaac dropped the plastic bottle to the floor with a thud. Tamara screamed on the top of her lungs when she could see the blood beginning to foam out of his mouth, but it was almost drowned out from the continuous laughter coming from the demons. The both of you were forced to see Isaac take his last gurgling breaths before dropped to the floor, which was covered in the cleaner that spilled out from the container and the remains of his block. Tamara wasn’t holding back as she desperately plead for her husband to come back, not expecting to see the night’s events turn so brutal. But this was just the beginning.

“Oh, he’s down!” One demon shouted, his lips stretching into a grin when Tamara screamed again. His eyes lingered toward the woman, seeming to think she was ready to face the same fate as her husband. “All right, honey. Your turn!”

But before someone else could have gotten hurt, you could knew backup was coming from what happened next. Everyone suddenly found themselves stumbling to the ground after something came slamming straight through the doors, you didn’t know what it was until you heard a revving engine. You lifted yourself to your palms, trying your hardest to avoid the shards of glass to see that it was Bobby’s car. If they couldn’t break down the door, it seemed they were desperate enough to ram it down. The demons were quick to faze back from the unexpected attack, but the boy had another trick up their sleeve. You could feel droplets of water coming from all over the place, but when you heard the hisses and sizzle of skin, you knew it was holy water.

Tamara was pleading and begging for her husband, who was still lying on the floor with no chance of recovering from what he’d went through. But Sam tried to get the woman to safety, when that didn’t work, he forced her by dragging her to the backseat and shoving her inside. You managed to get yourself on your feet, dodging the bodies of demons before slipping yourself into anywhere that you would fit right now. Bobby caught the chance to get himself into the driver’s side, slamming the door to get ready for the getaway. But when you saw that you were one body short, you saw that Dean was still trying to fend off the monsters.

‘Dean, come on!” You shouted, peeking your head above the car to see what was taking him so long. The man was still swinging away what water he had left before taking a second to open the trunk, but it was enough time for one of the demons to recover. It happened to be the one all of you were tracking. As he got ready to struck, you caught on. “Dammit, look out!”

The man seemed to have heard your warning, seeming a bit distracted for a moment when he realized he’d run out of water. But he saw another opportunity fall into place, without the demon realizing what was happening, Dean managed to shove the man inside the trunk where a devil’s trap was painted above. You heard a scream of frustration escape from the demon’s throat from the trap before Dean slammed the trunk down. You shoved yourself back into the front seats when the man was rushing everyone into position. You could feel yourself being squished into place when Dean slipped himself inside. You weren’t complaining when Bobby slammed his foot on the gas, getting all of you out of danger for the meantime. But when those demons recovered from that little shower, they weren’t going to be wasting anytime in tracking all of you down.

+ + +

A thick of tension filled the air; everyone had managed to make it back safely to Tamara’s house with at least one demon underneath a devil’s trap for the time being. But nobody seemed to have thought of that as a decent positive mood from the outbreak of argument that was going around them. Tamara was still hysterical about leaving her husband behind in the bar, shouting about wanting to get him back, even though, deep down, she knew he was dead. It was the principal of not letting his corpse just lay in the hands of those monsters and let those demons use his body for whatever they pleased. Tamera and Sam were fighting for the last few minutes with at least no signs of stopping until one of them got their way.

“And I say we’re going back—now!”

“Hold on a second.”

“I left my husband bloody on the floor!”

“Okay, I understand that, but we can’t go back.”

‘Fine.” Tamara seemed to have had enough of the petty fight, deciding to reveal another plan of action without the man’s help. “Then you stay. But I’m heading back to that bar.”

“I’ll go with her.” You said, jumping into the conversation. You could see the woman was upset and in need of finding closure for her late husband. Everything about the last few days seemed to have slipped your mind, all you wanted to do was help where you could. Problems were arising, and you knew they were your fault. You couldn’t stomach the idea of something getting hurt, or worse, dead, as you frocilliced along in your own schedule. If you wanted to be taken seriously as a hunter, you needed to act like one.

“It’s suicide, Y/N!” Sam shouted on the top of his lungs, making you stop in your tracks.

“So what?” You questioned the man. Turning around on your heels, you narrowed out your shoulders and stared at the larger man straight in the eye. “It’s better than standing here with our nose stuffed in a book. Hasn’t gotten you very far this past week, has it, Sam?”

“How you gonna kill ‘em? Can’t shoot em’. You can’t stab ‘em.” Sam pointed out, acting like this was your first day on the job. You crossed your arms over your chest as he continued on trying to prove the point of how serious the mission was. “They’re not just gonna wait in line to get exorcised!”

“I don’t care!”

“We don’t even know how many of them there are!”

But everyone’s attention was cut away for a moment when a familiar voice broke into the conversation. You turned your head to see Bobby, who had been spending most of the time back going through books, and it seemed he managed to find out what all of you were dealing with. He stepped forward with a heavy book open, “Yeah, we do. There’s seven. Do you have any idea who we’re up against?” Bobby asked, his voice was filled with stress.

“No.” Dean sarcastically answered, shaking his head. “Who?”

“The seven deadly sins,” Bobby explained, “Live and in the flesh!”

Dean, who never seemed to have perfect timing for comedic relief, thought this would have been the perfect moment to let his talent shine through with an impression. “'What’s in the box’?!” He wailed out. Everyone only stared at him with annoyance, he shifted uncomfortably. “Brad Pitt, 'Se7en’? No?” Bobby shut the heavy book closed and shoved it into the man’s chest, obviously impatient with how the situation was being settled. Dean glanced down at the book for a moment. “What’s this?”

”'Binsfeld’s Classification of Demons.’ In 1589, Binsfeld’s I.D’d the seven sins—not just as human vices, but as actual Devils.“ Bobby said, proving the point that what all of you were facing wasn’t a joke. You let out a sigh, running a hand down your face from how things were slowly turning out.

"The family,” Sam said, bringing up the first case that brought all of you together. “They were touched by the sloth. And the shopper…”

You turned your head toward the other side of the room when you heard Bobby bring up the son, which was the one that all of you managed to snatch and bring here. “That’s envy’s doing—the customer we got in the next room. I couldn’t suss it out at first until Isaac.” Bobby said, his gaze turning to Tamara, who began to nervously rub her shoulder from the thought of seeing her husband’s last moment ran through her mind again. “He was touched with an awful gluttony.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re the three stooges or the four tops!” Tamara said, still not backing down on her previously plans from before. “I’m gonna slaughter every last one of them!”

Bobby seemed to have had enough with the woman’s tirade, he stood forward to her and began taking control of the situation like he’d wanted to in the first place. “We already did it your way. You burst in there half-cocked and look what happened!” You glanced over at the brothers for a moment, seeming surprised for how the man was acting. In your time of knowing him, you’d never seen him snap like this. “These demons haven’t been topside in half a millennium! We’re talking medieval, dark ages! We’ve never faced anything close to this! So we are gonna take a breath,” He lowered his voice for just a moment, before raising his voice one more time. “And figure out what our next move is!”

Tamara opened her mouth, trying to figure out some way to make the man see her things a different way. But after a second of thinking things through a bit more, she finally backed down and tried swallowing the last bit of her rage. "I am sorry for your loss.” Bobby finished, speaking more in a softer tone. The woman stared at the man for a moment directly in the eye before you watched as she stormed off for a moment of peace and quiet.

All of you allowed her a few minutes to gather her thoughts together. The woman had to see her husband die right in front of her eyes, but there was something deeper inside of her that seemed to be brought down before taking any rational choices. Soon enough, Bobby thought it would have been perfect timing to figure out what your new guest had to offer for some of information of what him and his friends were doing here. You wandered into the room after the older man with the heavy book wrapped in your hands. A laughter broke from the demon when he caught everyone filing into the room, seeming amused at what was going on.

“So you know who I am, huh?” The demon asked, his voice was light hearted. His lips stretched into a smile when his eyes landed on you and Tamara, you could feel your grip on the book tightened for a second.

“We do.” Bobby answered. “We’re not amused.”

You headed over to a small bookshelf and slammed the book down on the wood, your attention shifted back to the demon. “Why are you here?” You asked him, questions falling out quicker than he could answer. “What are you after?”

Dean crossed your eyesight as he slowly walked across the room. The demon remained silent, obviously not seeming to be in the chatty mood to answer. “She asked you a question.” He said as his hand dipped into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small silver flask. “What do you want?”

The demon seemed to only let his smile grow wider as he only stared, never speaking a word. His cocky attitude wasn’t getting any of you very far, but you knew ways of making him talk. Dean twisted off the cap to the bottle and before the demon noticed, he swinged directly, letting the holy water burn on the monster’s skin. You watched as he grunted and hissed from how the substance burned his skin in the worst way possible. He tried controlling himself through the pain, letting out deep breaths before the sizzling slowly stopped. The demon managed to turn his head back to a normal position, finally ready to speak.

“We already have what we want.” The demon said. You stared at him, wondering what he was hinting around. His lips stretched into a smile as he let out a chuckle. “We’re out. We’re free. Thanks to you, my kind are everywhere. I am legion, for we are many. So me, I’m just celebrating. Having a little fun.”

“Fun?” Sam repeated the demon.

“Yeah. Fun. See, some people crochet. Others golf. Me? I like to see people’s insides,” The demon trailed off, seeming to be happy about showing his inner sadistic side. His eyes glazed over at the thought you could feel them trail over your abdomen, like he was looking at you like this next victim. “On their outside.”

You narrowed your eyes at the demon, not seeming taken from his passive aggressive threats he thought were beginning to become amusing. Tamara, on the other hand, was losing her patience with the man. She took a few steps forward and leaned down, “I’m gonna put you down like a dog.” She threatened in a low, venomous tone.

“Please.” He said in a sarcastic tone, finding the woman’s attitude entertaining. Her jaw tightened when the demon let out a laugh, looking at each of you slowly. “You really think you’re better than me. Which one of you can cast the first stone, huh? What about you, Dean?” His gaze shifted to the oldest brother for a moment. “You’re practically a walking billboard of gluttony. And, Tamara, all that wrath. It’s the reason you and Isaac became hunters in the first place, isn’t it? It’s so much easier to drink in the rage than to face what happened all those years ago.“

You could see the woman boiling to the point where she was going to explode again, and before she could take a swing at the man, you were quickly grabbing her hand to keep her in place. You shook your head at the woman, knowing this is exactly what the demon wanted. But you knew he was only beginning the fun. "And Y/N, worst one of them all. I heard about you. Almost like the poster child for my kind.” Your eyes trailed over to the demon, your gaze hardening at the man when he continued. “I can see it. All the rage you try and hide, putting it off as pride for what you do. A bit of a sloth—never doing things in time. But you know what I see right now?”

You narrowed your eyes at the demon, “What?”

“An envious friend. Seeing those brothers together. It made you feel so alone because, no matter what, they always will have someone. They’re willing to do anything for each other and you’re the one who gets stuck.” The demon said. You could feel your fingernails digging into your palm from what he was saying. “You tried helping and look what happened to you? Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Selling your soul again. Trying to keep your temper in check, acting like you’re normal. But you’re just—"

Before the demon could finish the sentence, you were letting go of Tamara and setting your focus on the man. Your fingers clenched into a fist and you slammed it down in the man’s jaw with all the strength inside your body. But before you could let out anymore aggression for what was admitted, you could feel someone’s grip wrap around your arms, yanking you backwards before any more damage could be done to the man trapped inside. You could see the demon was grinning from ear to ear from the reaction he got from you. This was exactly what he wanted to see, and you fell right for the trap.

“My point exactly.” The demon said. Your gaze upon the man was cold and hard, hoping that by some chance he would stop speaking, but he continued on. “And you call us sins. We’re not sins, man. We are natural human instinct.” His eyes lingered to you from what he said next. “And you can repress and deny us all you want, but the truth is, you are just animals. Horny, greedy, hungry…violent animals. And you know what? You’ll be slaughtered like animals, too. "The others—they’re coming for me.”

Dean let out a small chuckle, seeming to be amused from what was the demon was threatening. You watched as the man took a step forward before he was leaning down, making sure to look at the soulless creature right in the eye. “But they’re not gonna find you.“ He said, the demon lifted his eyebrows up an amusement for a second, all before Dean finished this sentence. ”'Cause you’ll be in Hell.“ The demon’s face dropped, obviously not seeming to have expected this sort of twist. Dean shifted back into a standing position as he looked forward to all of you. “Someone send this clown packing.”

"My pleasure.” Tamara said, her eyes were glazed over, ready to jump for the opportunity. You grabbed the heavy book from the shelf and handed it over to the woman, giving her a small smile before leaving her alone. If anyone that needed to let some steam off and figure out revenge, this was it.

All of you flooded out of the room, just in time to hear familiar words of Latin being spoken before a scream of pain came from the demon. You looked over your shoulder once more to see the sight before you settled forward for the men. You crossed your arms over your chest when you could feel a few pairs of eyes lingering on you, like they were waiting for a moment to explain yourself. As if things were awkward the past few days, you were walking on eggshells now. You’d never felt so out there, naked with the truth that seemed so obvious. Luckily Bobby seemed to have been more focused on keeping you and the brothers focused on the heavier hand at task that was only getting started.

“I don’t think we’re gonna have to worry about hunting them.” Bobby said, bringing up the other six demons that were roaming around the streets.

“What does that mean?” Sam, who’d sat down on the edge of a dusty table, asked the man.

“I think maybe the joker’s right. They’re gonna be hunting us.” Bobby said. You could feel a sigh escape your lips from the inevitable truth that you knew was coming. Hunting demons was never easy, and these kinds were proving that point pretty well. “And they’re not gonna quit easy.”

“You guys, why don’t you take Tamara and Y/N, head for the hills.” Dean suggested, making you snap your attention away from what was going in the other room. “I’ll stack back, slow them down, buy you a little time.”

“You’re insane, Dean.” You said, shaking your head in disagreement. “Just forget about it, okay?”

“Y/N’s right.” Bobby agreed with you, Sam nodded his head.

Dean looked at the three of you slowly for a moment. “There’s six of them, guys. We’re outmanned, we’re outgunned. We’ll be dead by dawn.”

“Maybe, but there’s no place to run that they won’t find us.” Bobby pointed out.

“Look,” Sam spoke up, bringing the attention over to him. “If we’re going down, we’re going down together, all right?”

“Well,” You said, seeming to agree with the idea. Six demons against five hunters, maybe all of you had a fighting chance of getting out of this mess alive. “Let’s not make it easy for these Bastards.”

A sudden scream of pain and a burst of wind rushed through the room, sending the candles that were lit on the table next to you wipe out the flames. Everyone looked over to the next room to see that Tamara had finished the exorcism. She slammed the book shut and stared at the unconscious man lying in the chair. Throwing the book somewhere, you watched as she headed forward to the four of you to tell the obvious news all of you could see.

“Demon’s out of the guy.” She said, brushing between the brothers as she continued on.

“And the guy?” You asked the woman.

“He didn’t make it.” She answered in a nonchalant tone.

+ + +

Knowing all of you had a severe hunt ahead you, supplies would be key in keeping all of you protected for the threat ahead. You wandered out of the house for a moment to head to the stash that was hidden in the back of the Impala. You shoved the key into the lock and twisted it around, letting it pop open before lifting up the secret compartment. As you began to pick up the supplies that the brothers needed, you almost seemed to have gotten yourself lost in thought from the list that you tried to remember. When you reached for a few boxes of bullets, you stopped for a moment when you heard something shift underneath the ground. You could feel your guard beginning to go up as your mind screamed a threat was approaching. You reached for for the first thing that you saw, hearing the footsteps growing louder. You waited a moment before you turned around, wondering who you’re attacker was. But it was someone you weren’t expecting.

“Jesus!” You nearly screamed on the top of your lungs, letting your free hand rest on your chest when you realized it was just Dean. You could feel your heartbeat pounding from underneath your touch, but you could feel it slow down after you took a deep breath. “Don’t scare me like that! ”

“Relax,” Dean brushed off your worry as he headed for the trunk, getting a few more supplies to make this trip faster. You could see him grab almost anything from shotguns to bottles for holy water. The both of you were silent for a moment, working quick as you could to get this job done. As you reached for another gun, you froze for a moment when he spoke up, bringing up something you desperately wanted to ignore for the moment. “What the demon said. I know this is bad timing—”

“Yeah, it is.” You mumbled, glancing over at him.

“What did he mean, by selling your soul again?” He asked the dreaded question. You swallowed, you dropped your gaze toward the assortment of weapons for a moment. “Y/N, please, tell me that son of a bitch was lying to us.”

You grabbed a shotgun and a few bullets, shoving them inside before cocking it into place. You finally looked over at the man. “I’ll make you a deal. We survive this, I’ll tell you the truth about everything, I won’t leave anything out to you and Sam. I can promise you that.” You say. You can see his gaze hardening in annoyance from the game you were trying to play. “And if we don’t, you’ll never know.”

Dean opened his mouth to protest your idea, but the both of you could hear someone’s familiar voice shouting from the porch steps. Grabbing what you could, you headed for the house again, knowing the five of you had work to do before the rest of the demons arrived to get the revenge they craved.

+ + +

Everyone settled back in different parts of the house to get started. You sat in the corner of the room with a few assortment of weapons around you to get prepared. You glanced up for a moment to see that Dean was loading up another shotgun and Sam was filing a few bottles of holy water. But you could see them stop for a moment, his eyes slowly lingering on each before you could feel them being drawn to you. All of you were quiet, but it was easy enough to sense that someone was waiting for a conversation to be started. All though, the attention shifted to the small radio that was near Sam. You could hear static slowly coming from it before it lit up, beginning to play an old blues song.

“Here we go.”

You knew every inch of this place was covered in salt, giving all of you at least a bit more time to fend off the threat. You pushed yourself off the floor and headed for the boarded up the windows, the brothers lingered before all of you were peeking out at the grounds below. You scanned the area to see, only to notice that it was empty of any souls around. All you could hear was the radio softly playing in the background that echoed through the house and your breathing. You were almost expecting something to jump out and scare all of you, but what happened next made a bad shiver run down your spine from the familiarity of the voice.

“Tamara! Tamara, help me, please!”

+ + +

You could hear the dead man’s cries and pleas echo through the night air, growing louder as his body began crawling to the house. Your footsteps and pounding heartbeat rang inside your ears as you passed through the rooms, wondering where the man was coming from. You had saw it with your own eyes—Isaac was dead. Nobody could have survived that amount of poisoning. Some filthy demon was probably using his body as a host, trying his hardest to get the other woman underneath her skin, waiting for the right moment where she would unravel. You peeked through the cracks between the boarded windows to see the man’s body was crawling forward, as if he was using all the strength that he had left in his body.

Tamara could hear her husband cry out her name over and over again, making the woman getting closer to the edge, not sure what to believe was real anymore. Bobby reached out a hand to rest on the woman’s shoulder, giving it a supporting squeeze. “I got away, but I’m hurt bad!” Isaac tried lying, still, nobody was coming to his rescue. It didn’t mean he was stopping this little act until he got what he wanted. “I need help!”

“It’s not him.” Bobby reminded the younger woman, seeing how desperate she wasn’t trying to make sense of what was going on. She sniffles a few times, trying to nod her head. “It’s one of those demons. It’s possessing his corpse.”

You could hear Tamara let in a sharp breath when pounding Isaac managed to crawl to the front door, the pounding made you jump in surprise, feeling it almost rattle the entire house. A moment later, all of you heard the man pleading for his life again. “Baby! Why won’t you let me in? You left me alone back there. How could you do that?” You knew it was the demon who was talking now, guilting the poor woman from what she had to do. It’s not like any of you gave her much of a choice in the matter, anyway. But, slowly, he was easing her into this act from things her husband would only know.

“We swore, on that lake in Michigan.” Isaac almost seemed to have returned for just a moment, but you and Bobby knew that demons were tricky bastards, using any sort of cheap trick to fool their victims into getting whatever they wanted. “Remember? We swore we would never leave each other!”

You reached out a hand to rest on her arm when you could see the poor woman was drinking to tears, letting out sobs when she could hear her husband’s voice, and not knowing what to call real anymore. “How could he know that?” She questioned the both of you, almost shaking underneath your touch.

“Steady Tamara.” You whispered in a calm tone, trying your hardest to comfort the woman. But you could see that she couldn’t fight it anymore. “Come on. Don’t listen to it.”

“You’re just gonna leave me here? You’re just gonna let me die?!” Isaac called out. When she wouldn’t respond like he wanted, that’s when the demon’s side kicked in. His voice changed into a harder, colder tone. “I guess that’s what you do, dear! Like that night, those things came to our house…they came for our daughter! You just let her die, too.”

That seemed to have been the final straw for the widow; you couldn’t have caught her fast enough from what she was about to do next. All the rage that had been slowly bubbling up into her chest, came bursting out. You heard her shout on the top of her lungs, “You son of a bitch!” at the demon. Neither you or Bobby could pin down the woman or make her come to her senses in the short amount of time that you had. Wrath was judging her senses, clawing its way out to seek revenge on the one she loved. The front door swung open with the wooden barrier breaking like a twig, and out jumped Tamara like a feral cat eying its prey. You knew from her rash decisions that Tamara just welcomed the rest of the demons to mozy on in as they pleased.

You peeked your head out of the front door, dangling yourself on the hook like bait, watching as the hoard of familiar bodies emerged from the shadows that were making their way to the house. Taking that as your cue, you quickly turned yourself on yourself on your heels and rushed up the stairs, a few moments later, you could hear stomping following behind. You were running as fast as you could go, but just leaving enough of a trail for whatever demons that decided to have fun with you. As you turned the corner, you made your way into an empty room to catch yourself up to a normal heartbeat. When the footsteps grew louder, you quickly pulled out your silver flask from your back pocket. But the booming voice coming from the doorway announced their arrival sooner than you anticipated.

“Here’s Johnny!” You looked to see that you were graced with three demons in total. The one leading the pack was dressed in an expensive looking suit with perfectly trimmed features. But before he could make it farther enough to you, his hand immediately shot up, stopping the rest of them in their tracks. You swallowed when his black eyes glanced up to the ceiling, noticing the painted devil’s trapped. “Come on. You really think something like that is gonna fool someone like me? I mean, me?”

“Let me guess,” You said. “You’re pride.”

The demon’s lips grew into a grin from your correct answer. “And you’re out of ideas.”

You watched as he lifted up a hand to play a little trick you weren’t happy to see. He slowly made a fist, which triggered for the entire room to shake and rumble, making the ceiling above crumble into two. You looked up to see that your previous plan was foiled, but you still had another trick hidden up your sleeve. Quiet footsteps came from the other side of the room, making the demons curious to see who was there. Now it was your turn to give the monsters a smug smile. You saw Sam came out from his hiding spot, knowing this was the plan all along. The both of you might have been down a decent trap to keep these demons down, but you could figure something out.

“The root of all sin. And you, are Sam Winchester.” Pride began, taking a large step forward with the other two demons following behind. You watched as his eyes trailed away from you for a moment to stare at the younger man who was now standing by your side. “That’s right. I’ve heard of you. We’ve heard of you. The prodigy, the boy king. Looking at you now, I gotta tell you, I don’t believe the hype. You think I’m gonna bow to a cut-rate piss-poor human like you? I have my pride, after all.“

"Did we hurt your ego?” You sarcastically asked the demon, pretending to feel guilty of what he was saying. “Like we give a rat’s ass what demons say.”

“You should hear what they say about you, Y/N. But I think it’s all crap. Someone like you should be scared of me.” Pride said. “And now with your yellow-eyed friend dead, I guess I don’t really have to do a damn thing, now, do I? You’re both fair game now, and it’s open season.”

Your fingers grazed over the wooden stake, polo santo, Tamara had explained that it worked like a charm, just stab the demon into the chest and you’ll have them pinned in place. But you barely managed to sneak it out before the both of you were caught in a sticky situation. It seemed that Pride had meant his word on wanting you and Sam dead. You could feel yourself suddenly force making you fly across the room, and hitting straight into the drywall, knowing the breath out of you until you managed to get yourself coherent. You tried your hardest to struggle, but it seemed to have been just a trick, because a few seconds later, your body dropped to the ground to give yourself a moment for what was about to happen next.

Barely a second passed by before you could feel someone’s hands wrap around your neck and firmly squeezed, cutting off any breathing that you might need. You clawed and tried to fight off the demon, but she was stronger than you could ever be. A smile spread across her face at the fight that she clearly was winning. You were thrown across the floor, giving you a second to recover and try to figure out how you were going to grab the palo santo, which had to be nearby. But the thought was cut off when you felt the demon slammed you around until you were lying on your back, and her hands were on your neck again. You could feel yourself beginning to feel the lack of oxygen coming forward when your attempts at trying to break free from the position were slowing down.

All though when the demon looked up for a moment when another pair of footsteps echoed through the room. You heard her shout something you weren’t expecting. "You!” Her tone of voice was venomous, like she’d seen a betrayer. Her hands seemed to have loosened on your throat and the pressure on your body lifted. It seemed the demon wanted to start picking fights with someone else.

You took the opportunity to roll over to your knees, wondering what was going on. You saw the demon that represented gluttony was dead, throat slashed. But that made no sense. Of course, what you saw seemed like it had opened up a whole bunch more question. The newcomer was a blonde woman, who seemed to have known what she was doing. You watched as the demon ran forward to attack the woman, but managed to defend herself by throwing a punch—all before she used a knife to stab the demon straight in the chest. A strange orange hue bursted through the demon’s body from the knife wound. But it seemed to have been effective enough, because in a blink of an eye, she was on the floor, without showing any signs of coming back to life.

You seemed to have been fast on your feet, seeing Pride noticed his fellow friends weren’t around for backup. He tossed Sam to the side for a moment to seek revenge, while he managed to grab the woman from behind, you were quick to yank the demon away, using the element of surprise to your advantage. You swung your fist forward and punched the man hard enough in the jaw to send him flying forward to the blonde’s direction. She then swung up the knife, and stabbed him directly into the jaw, all before pulling out and sending his body to the floor with the others.

When the adrenaline from everything that had taken place began to slowly wear off, you could hear yourself trying to get your breathing back to normal and Sam slowly getting himself up from the floor. You glanced down at the bodies, wondering what had just happened, but your attention shifted back to the stranger. “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the girl that just saved your asses.” Blondie said, her lips stretching into a smirk as she marveled at her work that laid on the floor.

“Well,” You spoke up, shrugging your shoulders as you subtlety corrected the woman. “I just saved yours, too.”

That seemed to have seemed good enough for a chuckle to escape the stranger, finding your comment at least a bit amusing. She glanced over at Sam for a moment before turning her attention to you. “See you Sam, Y/N.”

But there was too many questions buzzing around the room that needed to be answered. Sam tried following behind the woman to figure out who she was. Could have she been a hunter that who was trying to help? And what the hell was with that knife? Your eyes glanced down at the wooden floors. All you knew for sure was that the woman left a mess that needed to be cleaned up. She might have saved you both from death by demons, but three innocent people were killed in the process.

+ + +

Morning arrived with at least you and the fellow hunters alive to finish cleaning up the mess around Tamara’s household. You watched as the brothers lifted the last body into the shallow grave before starting the salt and burn process, making sure the people at least couldn’t give all of you another headache. The mix was thrown around into the ditch as you stood back, your fingers flipping the matchbook around to keep yourself busy. Most of your attention seemed to have been lingering on Tamara, who was off in the distance, burning her husband’s corpse to a crisp. That was the thing about this lifestyle, no matter how hard you try, someone could be taken away.

“You think she’s gonna be all right?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, glancing over at the men.

“No. Definitely not.” Dean answered. A sigh escaped your lips from the turn of events that nobody could have predicted. But the attention shifted over to Bobby, who came walking up to the three of you, looking more tired and stressed than normal. “Well, you look like Hell warmed over.”

“You try exorcising all right and see how you feel.” Bobby muttered.

“Any survivors, Bobby?” Sam asked, wondering if there could have been at least some good to come of this mess for a few people.

“Well, the pretty girl and the heavy guy, they’ll make it.” Bobby said. Lust and sloth were back in Hell where they belonged, giving you all one less problem to worry about. “Lifetime of therapy bills ahead, but, still.”

You opened up the matchbook and took out a single one to finish the process. “Well, that’s more than you could say for these poor bastards.” You said, knowing they weren’t going to see another day. As you thought about what killed them, you looked over at the older man, wondering he had an answer for your curious mind. “Bobby, that knife—what kind of blade can kill a demon?”

“Yesterday, I would have said there was no such thing.” Bobby admitted, lost for words.

“I’m just gonna ask it again—who was that masked chick?” Dean asked the both of you. You rolled your eyes, knowing you were urgent to figure out this stranger yourself. “Actually, the more troubling question would be, ‘How come a girl can fight better than than you?’ And of all people, Y/N stepped up and saved your ass.”

“Three demons, Dean.” Sam tried explaining himself, yet again. “At once.”

You and Dean looked at one another for a moment before the both of you were breaking out into matching smiles, finding the situation a bit too amusing. “Oh. Well, hey, whatever it takes to get you through the night, pal.” He said, slapping his brother on the shoulder.

“Yeah, well, if you want a troubling question, I got one for you,” Sam said. You raised your eyebrows, wondering what the man was thinking about. “If we let out the seven deadly sins, what else did we let out?”

And the questions keep coming. You struck the tip of the match against the rough side of the matchbox, letting a flame ignite before you set fire to the entire set. “You’re right.” You said, throwing the matches into the mix, watching as the bodies catch fire. “That is troubling.”

+ + +

With at least the bodies under control and Isaac put at rest, it was time to hit the road again. You and the men watched as Tamara began heading for her car, carrying a light duffel bag for the long journey ahead of her. All of you gave a polite nod, knowing business had been done, but now it was time to venture on. The woman managed to get pass the small group before Bobby stopped her, wanting to give the fellow hunter a few words for her the road.

“The world just got a lot scarier. Be careful.”

She nodded her head, knowing well enough by now after burning her husband to ashes. “You too.”

You watched as the woman gave the four of you one last look over before heading for her car. She threw everything in before getting inside the driver’s side door, a few moments later, the engine roared to life. Tamara might have been able to get a fresh start on life, but you knew everything for you still was only unraveling. There was so much danger, so many questions that needed to be taken care of. Maybe you jumped the gun on leaving. The boys still needed you. And you needed them.

“Keep your eyes peeled for omens.” Bobby instructed to all of you. “I’ll do the same.”

It seemed to have been the final goodbye, wrapping up the long strain of events that seemed to have felt longer than a week. You could tell the man was tired, stressed from everything that had been happening. And he knew it was just the beginning. “Wait, Bobby.” Sam called out, stopping the older man in his tracks. He looked at the three of you before asking, “We can win this war, right?”

The answer was a long, periodic moment of silence. You could tell that wasn’t a good sign, but there was still time here. “Catch you on the next one.” Bobby said, heading for his car.

You watched as he loaded himself in before slamming the door shut. A moment later, you heard the engine roar to life and the man on his way, only before waving goodbye to you three as he passed by. You shifted your attention away from the car when you realized you and the brothers were alone. You gave them both a crooked smile, wondering where the past week events were going to land you with them.

“So, where to on Y/N’s big adventure?” Dean was the first one to speak, rubbing his hands together, seeming to anticipate for your answer.

“Well,” You shifted your footing around for a moment before speaking of a new plan, deciding to ditch the old one. “I’m up for whatever you boys have in mind. If you’re willing to let me stay.”

"Like you had a choice.” Dean said. You could see his lips stretching into a grin. “Because if you even think about running off like that again, I’ll drag your little ass back here.”

You weren’t afraid of the passive aggressive threat, so, you turned your attention to his younger brother, wondering what the man had in mind to pass the time. “Uh, I don’t know.” He admitted shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I was thinking Louisiana maybe.”

“Little early for mardi gras, isn’t it?” Dean asked, beginning to head forward to the Impala, you and his brother trailing behind.

“Yeah. Listen, I was talking to Tamara, and she mentioned this hoohoo priestess outside of Shreveport that might be able to help us out,” Sam explained, bringing up a point that almost slipped your mind today. “You know, with your—with your demon deal.”


“‘Nah’?” Sam repeated after his brother. “What does that mean?”

“Sam, no hoodoo spell’s gonna break this deal.” Dean said. “It’s a goose chase.”

You opened your mouth to try and explaining what you had been up to, but before you could even get one word out, Sam was speaking up first. “We don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do. Forget it. She can’t help.” Dean said. You watched as Sam tried his hardest to bring up another point, but his brother cut him off. “We’re not going, and that’s that. Oh—What about Reno, huh?”

Dean took a few steps forward to the car, deciding that the conversation would end there, but seemed that Sam still had a few unfinished words left. “You know what? I’ve had it.” Sam spoke up, bringing his true emotions to light. “I’ve been bending over backwards trying to be nice to you, and…I don’t care anymore.”

“That didn’t last long.” Dean remarked.

“Yeah, well, you know what? I’ve been busting my ass trying to keep you alive, Dean, and you act like you couldn’t care less.” Sam stated. You could see his older brother nod his head, a half smile spreading across his lips. “What, you got some kind of death wish or something?”

“It’s not like that.” Dean vaguely explained.

“Then what’s it like, Dean?” His little brother questioned the man. “Please, tell me.”

Silence fell between all of you, giving Dean a moment to think about admitting the terms of his own deal. His gaze shifted around the outside area for a moment before focusing on his little brother. “We trap the crossroads demon, trick it, try to welsh our way out of the deal in any way, you die, okay?” Dean clarified the terms. You could see the younger man’s face drop, not seeming to have consider that possibility. “You die. Those are the terms. There’s no way out of it. If you try to find a way, so help me God, I’m gonna stop you.”

“Well…” Your voice broke the tension between the brothers, making their attention drift toward you for a moment. You sucked in a deep breath, your lips twitching into another sort of crooked smile from what you were about to say. “He’s still alive, Dean. And you wanted to know.”

It took a moment for the boys to figure out what you were hinting around; and just after that, Hell broke loose all over again. You swallowed when you could feel Dean’s hardening gaze linger over to you for a moment, your hand with the scar scrunched into a fist. “What did you do, Y/N?” He asks. His tone is quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what you did. But you can see the wheels are turning in his head, and the pure anger rushes into his facial expressions from just the thought. “Don’t you dare tell me—"

“I found a way to get out out of a deal. And Sam’s still alive. That’s all that matters.” You said, trying to sugarcoat what you’re really about to confess. You swallow, seeing their facial expressions turning harder from your comment alone. “The demon was right. I made another deal—a real one, this time. The compromise was simple. If something were to, per say, happen to me on a hunt before this year is up…I take Dean’s place.”

“Let me get this straight,” Dean speaks up after a moment of silence. You can see the man’s jaw is tightening from the information that processed inside his mind, but his facial expressions seem calm. “You think it was a smart idea to make a deal, huh? You thought it would be good enough to drag yourself in deeper? All we’ve done for you, and you can’t learn a damn thing.”

“You’re right. I can’t learn from my mistakes. But I can make history stop repeating itself for a certain family. You know, how did you feel when John sold his soul for you, Dean?” You throw out the dreaded question, watching as the man’s face scrunch up. “Because. I were there. I remember. You were twisted and broken. And now you go and do the same thing to Sammy?“

"Whichever way you want to look at this, someone’s gotta die. I’ll be damned if it’s gonna be you. And after everything that I’ve done for this family, I think I’m entitled.” Dean says, his tone seeming more arrogant and proud, like what was at stake was a grand prize. You and Sam look at the man, his brother was becoming angered from how easy he was giving up on things. You hated how he wasn’t going to let you try and help. “Truth is, I’m tired, guys. I don’t know, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.”

“It’s hellfire, Dean.” Sam muttered at his brother, anger lining his words.

“Whatever. Sam’s alive, you’re back. I feel good. For the first time in a long time.” Dean said, seeming to have found peace with everything that was ahead for him. “I got a year left to live, guys. I’d like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little hell, huh?”

You watched as the man crossed your path, heading for the Impala parked just a few feet away from everyone. His dug his hand inside his pocket and took out the keys, all before focusing his attention on you. “And Y/N—sweet, innocent Y/N. If you

pull a stunt like that again or try and make this deal come true, I’ll drag your ass to Bobby’s. No more hunts. I’m pretty sure he’s got a few things you could work on for the next year or so.“

You let out a scoff from the passive threat that almost seemed like a joke to you, "Yeah. I’m so scared.”

“Oh, you should be.” Sam said, staring down at you with half a smile. You can see some joy coming to his face for the first time since ending this conversation when another memory comes to light. “The man’s got an eye for punishment.”

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes from how much old childhood stories they haven’t told you about. It could have been something to pass the time for the next journey on wherever the road would take you. You followed behind Sam as you headed for the backseat of the Impala, the one spot you’d actually grown to miss over this past week. Your hands subconsciously ran over the leather seats as your gaze drifted to the front of the car to see that Dean was sitting in the driver’s seat and Sam in the passenger.

One brother was getting ready to give up his life, and the other was struggling to find something to keep the pieces from falling apart. You didn’t exactly know where you fit into this puzzle. Maybe Sam will find a loophole, maybe you’ll find yourself dead on the next hunt. Nobody could predict how a life of a hunter could be. And only time will tell what part you’ll play in this.

“Next stop, Vegas!” Dean shouted with almost glee in his voice. He reached out a hand and turned on the radio, filling the silence with a classic rock song. “I’m feelin’ pretty lucky.”

But one thing you knew for sure, a little quality time with the Winchester brothers was something you were going to make time for. Sam and Dean began a conversation, which was slowly turning into an argument of where to go next. You sank deeper into the seats, watching as the sight unfolded with a feeling of normalness wash over you.

Chapter Text

You remembered an old saying; if you can’t beat ‘em, you might as well join them. You sat in the back of a small diner with Sam sitting across from you, who had been spending almost of his time awake looking for a way to get his brother out of this demon deal. You kept yourself busy by researching almost every resource known to man and skimming the old book Sam had been previously glued to. You thought there might have been something that he could have skipped over by accident. Of course, everything was beginning to come up on repeat, but Sam seemed to have found something that could have been useful. You sat with your laptop decoding some ritual to English, checking up on the progress every once in awhile, before continuing to skim over some old web pages that might have at least a scrap of evidence to figure out some loophole.

“What do you mean you don’t think it will work, Bobby? It’s a demon-dispelling ritual.” Your eyes trailed up from the laptop screen when you heard Sam’s voice change in tone. The younger man was on the phone with Bobby, wanting a second opinion. But knocking that was coming from the window made the attention shift forward seeing that it was Dean, back from his run around town, faster than either one of you thought. Waving around a newspaper, it seemed that he might have caught another case for the three of you, all before he trailed away and headed for the front door. “Well, maybe we got the translation wrong. Look, we can’t just let Dean fry in Hell while we—There’s gotta be something—”

Ringing coming from the entrance door was enough of a warning for you to shut your laptop down and give Sam enough of a warning stare to wrap up his conversation with the other hunter. You shifted farther to the wall when you saw Dean coming for the both of you. He gave his brother a curious stare “Hey, who was that?”

“I was just ordering a pizza.” Sam lied, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes as Dean gave his brother a confused stare. "Dude, you do realize that you’re in a restaurant?” He asked, pointing a finger over his shoulder.

“Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah.” Sam said, his eyes drifting around the small cafe before fixing them on his brother. “Y/N and I just felt like pizza, you know?”

You bit your bottom lip to keep a laugh from coming out from Sam’s crooked smile he gave his brother as Dean glanced around at the both of you, wondering what was going on. “Okay, Weird McWeirderton.” He mumbled underneath his breath, dropping the newspaper down on the table before taking a seat next to you. He cleared his throat and grabbed the paper again, turning it over to review an article he found. “So, I think I got something. Cicero, Indiana. Man falls on his own power saw.”

You leaned over the table to grab the paper after Dean swung it into the middle, wondering what could have been so mysterious about this man’s death. From the brief article and title you skimmed through, it seemed that there wasn’t much foul play to be suspected, at least, not the type of case that would draw your attention. You handed it over to Sam, letting him be the judge if this was something all of you wanted to waste your time on.

“What, that’s it?” You asked Dean, sitting back in your chair. A moment later, you could feel his arm drop over the back of your chair to rest for the meantime. “One power saw?

"Well,” Dean tried making up an excuse of why this case was deemed so important. You raised an eyebrow up as you waited for him to validate anything, but it ended with one word. “Yeah.”

Sam glanced up from the newspaper after spending another moment reviewing the evidence to speak of his opinion. And it seemed that he was on your side about this. “And you think that this is a case?” He asked, lifting up the paper a bit more to prove his point.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, “Well, I don’t know. Could be.”

“I don’t know, Dean.” You mumbled, letting out a fake sigh. This had always been a small tactic to draw out the truth from one of the boys, you wondered if Dean had a secret motive that he wasn’t telling you or his brother about. “I mean, with everything that’s going on. Do you really want to waste your time on a dead end case?”

“All right.” Dean admitted. You could see his lips stretch into a smirk as his gaze lingered over to his brother for the big reveal. “There’s something better in Cireo than just a case.”

“And that is?” Sam asked his older brother, not seeming to have a clue himself.

Dean’s smile grew into a toothy grin, “Lisa Braeden.”

“Should we even ask?” You mumbled, beginning to wonder where this conversation was going to lead. The man had a lot of female friends in his life, maybe she was a friendly hunter that was worth meeting, or perhaps, something more to him. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited for him to explain.

“Remember that road trip you and I were supposed to take, gosh, about eight years ago now?” Dean asked you, bringing up something you had almost forgotten about. You and him were planning a huge trip after you graduated high school, something you’d been looking forward to for months. “Sam was in Orlando with Dad wrapping up that bashee thing.”

“Yeah. Five states, five days.” You said, nodding your head from the familiar memories. “That wasn’t a great time for me. A few days we were supposed to leave, I got food poisoning. I felt bad because you and I spent forever planning it out. So, I let you go it alone.”

“Well, that didn’t go exactly as planned.” Dean said, you furrowed your eyebrows. But then it clicked inside your mind before he spoke up again. “Although I didn’t go sightseeing, I sure spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden’s loft.”

"So let me get this straight.” You said, turning your attention to Dean after admitting a little story that wasn’t moving you. “You want to drag me and Sam all the way to Cicero just to hook up with some random chick? Well, I wouldn’t have suspected anything else out of you, Winchester.”

“She was a yoga teacher. It was the bendiest weekend of my life.” Dean said, explaining unwanted details. You shook your head and threw your hands up in the air, hoping he would drop this all together. “Come on, have a heart Y/N, huh? It’s my dying wish.”

You rolled your eyes as you looked over at Sam, wondering what his thoughts were on this matter. “How many dying wishes are you gonna get?” He asked, letting out a small chuckle from your previous reaction.

“As many as I can squeeze out.” Dean admitted. It was a moment before Sam gave into the man’s request. You, on the other hand, were still debating if you wanted to be apart of this. “Come on. Smile, Y/N. God knows I’m gonna be smiling after twenty-four hours with Gumby Girl.” From that comment, you couldn’t help yourself but let out an unwanted smile from how he was acting. He let a grin spread across his face from the defeat, but a question crossed his mind, making the man’s face scrunch up. “If she’s Gumby, does that make me Pokey?”

“No,” You said, resting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “It makes you an idiot.”

+ + +

Morning turned into later afternoon when you arrived in Cicero; you and Sam were dumped at some motel before Dean drove off, leaving the both of you alone for the next day. You retired to your own motel room, deciding to spend this moment for some much needed relaxation while Sam busied himself with more research. Dumping what bags you managed to grab from the car and onto the floor, you jumped onto the motel bed and let yourself sink into the mattress, enjoying the silence that followed with the occasional car passing by. You closed your eyes and relaxed yourself into what you were hoping was a nap that would turn into a deep sleep that you’ve been craving.

An hour or so passed until you were disturbed by the sound of something ringing. You rolled around in bed until you found yourself broken from your dazed sleep to discover someone was calling you. Running your fingers through your hair, you made yourself get up and head for your bag. You shuffled around through a few bags until you found what you were looking for. You looked at the I.D. to see that it was Dean, out of anyone, calling you. Your face scrunched up in confusion, wondering if he was butt dialing you by accident. From the thought of what he had been hinting at made you skeptical, letting it go to voicemail. But a moment later, he was calling you again. You knew this time that he was really trying to get ahold of you.

“About freaking time.” Dean greeted with a growl, making you confused from what was making him so annoyed. “I tried calling you. Mind picking up the first time?”

“Ouch. Does someone need to lick his wounded ego?” You asked, wandering around the room until you were sitting on the edge of the bed for the meantime. “Let me guess, did Miss. Lisa turn out to be not what you hoped for?”

“Not exactly. We got a situation here, Y/N. Things didn’t exactly turn out like I planned.” Dean says, making you curious to see what he was hinting around. You could hear him go silent for a moment, only to hear the sounds of laughter and talking coming from the background. “I need your help. How quick can you get down here?”

“I don’t know. Twenty minutes if I take a cab. Do you need me to bring Sam, too?” You curiously asked, pushing yourself up to a standing position again. You were wondering what this was all about. How Dean spent most of the car ride going on about this Lisa woman, it was beginning to make you wonder if there was something more about her. Perhaps she was someone that he had hinted around before, but you weren’t going to be pushing for questions. “Are you okay?”

“Just peachy.” He muttered, his voice distance from the other line for a moment before your eyes trailed over to the mirror that was hanging above the dresser. You noticed your disheveled clothes and messy bedhead, which you tried taming earlier after being disturbed for your nap. “Can you just get over here? I need my wing woman in top shape.”

+ + +

You had no idea what you were getting yourself into. Sitting in the back of a taxi cab, you were making sure the details of your new clothes and brushed out hair were more decent as you traveled through the neighborhood that this Lisa woman had been staying in. The things you would do for the brothers were limitless, but this, you had to admit was a new low for you. Dean somehow bribed you into joining his little plan of having the night of his life, which was disturbed by a party she was throwing. You tried your hardest to back out of this stupid plan, but he guilted you into coming by speaking of his shortened time on earth. You didn’t think you were going to crack, but you were curious to see who this Lisa woman was. So, you agreed to play a small part to make him at least happy for a while. It was the least you could do.

The taxi slowly came to a stop as you were fixing a few strands of your hair, wanting to make sure that you look decent enough. You looked out the window to see a normal looking neighborhood, a perfect place for someone to raise a family. The house that was written down on the motel stationary you scribbled down was the one decorated in an assortment of balloons, and the Impala was parked just across from the driveway. You shoved your hand inside your pocket and gave the driver money for the fare and a tip before slipping out to the quiet streets. This was something you’d never done before, except during the nights in bars with girls that were too drunk to remember their name, but there was a first time for everything.

You were about halfway up the driveway when you heard the sound of children’s laughter and what you were presuming was a bounce house coming from the backyard. You dashed over the green lawn to see the fence was wide open, allowing you to sneak through to see what you had been suspecting all along. Children that had to be no younger than nine were running through the backyard, laughing and enjoying themselves while their parents quietly socialized in the background. The sight was too familiar from the presents and decorations that were hung around the place, this was a birthday party for a little boy. You awkwardly wandered around the place, giving curious faces a small smile, until you saw the one you were looking for.

“Hey,” You greeted Dean, who was standing a few feet from the patio door. You peeked inside to see two women were talking, one had her back turned and the other one was holding a present, with a little girl standing at her side. You turned your gaze over to the man, who seemed to have been fixated on something to not even notice you had arrived. “I’m here. What’s so urgent that you needed me for?”

“I think we have a little problem.” Dean spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at what he was hinting around, looking over your shoulder to see what was causing his attention. But all you were seeing was a little boy, opening presents with his friends, seeming to having a good time. “Did you know Lisa had a son? I didn’t know she had a son.”

“Great. What does that have to do with anything?” You asked him, knowing that wouldn’t have stopped him before. But maybe if she was married to another man. You wondered if he called you here to try and get out of a sticky situation he landed himself in, but you weren’t expecting what he brought up in a few moments. “Seriously, you look like a deer in headlights. What’s wrong?”

Dean pointed a finger at the boy he had been staring at for the longest time. You shifted your attention to the boy, who seemed almost typically normal. But as you began to examine him a bit more, you tilted your head to the side ever so slightly, it was like your mind was trying to trick you into thinking that he looked like someone else. He opened a small present to see that it was a CD, and his reaction of the band made your eyes go slightly wide. “Yes! AC/DC rules!” He shouted, accompanying it with the traditional rock hand gestures as he stuck out his tongue, too.

“That’s Ben. Guess how old he’s turning today?” Dean said, breaking your concentration from the younger boy. You looked over at Dean, wondering what he was hinting around. His lips stretched into a wobbly grin, like he was about to pass out from fear. “Eight.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what he was getting so emotional about. as you began thinking more about the details that Dean had mentioned before, and the timespan that he had seen this woman last, you could feel your eyes trail over the little boy. “You really know how to hit and quit it. Don’t you, Winchester?” You asked the man, cracking a joke to ease the tension.

Dean shifted around in his spot, not finding your comment a bit funny. He looked over at you as he tried finding anything to get away this conversation. “You want cake? I’ll get us some cake.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a small laugh, patting him on the back to show him your support, watching as he wandered toward the table. This might have been an accidental fluke, you thought to yourself. In all of your years knowing him, Dean had never had some scare like this. Of course—he never tried connecting back with girls from his past. You looked over your shoulder to see the women from the inside of the house a bit more clearly, the one with the present had bent down to speak to her daughter, which meant the other one was Lisa. You narrowed your eyes on her for a moment, getting yourself lost in thought for a moment, before someone’s conversation caught you off guard when a familiar name was brought up.

“Did you hear Lisa call him ‘Dean’?”

“Yeah. Why?”

You shifted around in your spot on the grass to look over at a pair of older women sitting in lawn chairs. Their eyes were examining the backside of Dean, who had been innocently paying attention to something. You had seen that look before, these ladies seemed to have been enjoying the sight. You could feel your eyes trail over, wondering what the fuss was all about as you eavesdropped on the conversation to see what they were talking about.

“You don’t know about Dean?” The one woman asked, leaning over to the one who was wearing a suit, mindlessly eating vegetables as she listened on. “The Dean. Best-night-of-my-life Dean.”

It took her a moment before she story clicked, her lips twitched into a smirk. “No.” She mumbled, leaning in closer to hear all the juicy details from her friend. “Tell me.”

“Oh, my God. So, they had this crazy, semi-illegal—” The first woman began speaking of the story, finding yourself giving your full attention to find out the details. But it seemed that something had brought them out of their conversation. You didn’t seem to notice what it was, until you turned your head, seeing that Dean was standing across from you with two plates. “Oh. You think?”

“Here you go, sweetheart.” He mindlessly said, handing you over the cake. You gave you a smile, mumbling a thank you before glancing down at the piece of cake. It seemed too good to pass up and eat. You grabbed the fork from the side of the plate and dug in, grabbing a bite and reached to take a bite, mindlessly chewing on the food as your glance went back over to the women. They were staring again. “Oh, Y/N. You got something—”

You turned your attention back to Dean, who was trying his hardest to signal something. He motioned a finger around his lips, as if he was trying to tell you something. “God, I have frosting on my face.” You mumbled with cake still in your mouth before swallowing it. Trying your hardest to feel it, you managed to get a bit off. “Is it gone?”

“Eh, sort of. Just—It’s over,” Dean tried telling you where it was, but it seemed that you were only making a fool of yourself. Before you knew it, you were freezing in your spot from what he did next. You could see his thumb reaching over and lightly pressing itself against the mere inches of your mouth, lightly swiping off the leftover blue frosting, and rewarding himself by placing his finger into his mouth and licking it clean. But it seemed that he could tell someone was staring at the both of you. He turned his head slightly to see the women were gawking at the man, a smile spread across their lips after a moment of eye contact. “Hi there.”



You cleared your throat, giving Dean a smile, as if that was your cue to leave this group before it got weird. The woman wearing the suit placed a carrot into her mouth and sank her teeth into it, giving the man the kind of that was even making you feel uncomfortable. You and him gave each other a look before you were bolting off, trying to find somewhere else to hide out. The both of you wandered around the backyard until you spotted Ben, who was sitting in the corner eating some cake himself, watching as the other kids ran around and played. He saw the both of you, nodding his head as you and Dean went to start a conversation you were curious to where it went.

“What’s up?” He asked.

“What’s up with you?” Dean wondered, standing next to the boy.

You watched as the two of them seemed to have been acting the same; you saw a mother and her daughter pass by, which caused the other to curiously stare as they passed by. But you could feel yourself getting a weird vibe as they acted even similar, taking a bite of cake. “So,” You drew yourself out of your thoughts, giving Ben a smile. “We see it’s your birthday.”

Ben nodded, “Guilty.”

“It’s a cool party.” Dean said, trying to add more into the conversation.

“Dude, it’s so freakin’ sweet.” Ben said. You and Dean glanced over at one another, you raised your eyebrows from how he spoke. “And this moon bounce—it’s epic.”

“Yeah.” Dean mumbled. “It’s pretty awesome.”

“You know who else thinks they’re awesome? Chicks.” Ben said. You cleared your throat, trying your hardest not to laugh from how Ben was acting. He sounded familiar of a man you knew. “It’s like hot-chick city out there.”

Ben seemed to have been itching to try out that moon bounce, you watched as he took one last bite of his cake before placing it down by a nearby table and heading off to join his friends. Your gaze lingered over to Dean, who seemed to have been frozen in his spot for a moment, wondering what happened. He thought to himself for a moment before an unwanted idea hit him. You could see him rushing for the kitchen, wondering where Lisa could have gone. But a trashcan was in his way, he crashed right into the object, making a loud banging noise that echoed through the air. You gave all the wandering eyes a small smile as the man just walked off like nothing happened, leaving you to clean up the mess.

You threw everything off to the side, seeming that it looked good enough, all before you were trailing behind and into the house. You slipped in, just in time to see the woman from before she was grabbing her daughter, deciding to leave the party a bit early. Dean had ignored what had went down between the other woman, he leaned himself on the counter and gave Lisa a smile.

“So, I, uh, met Ben. Cool kid.” Dean said, slowly starting off the touchy subject that he was approaching here. You turned your head to see that Ben was speaking to a young girl, and he was getting quite far. “I couldn’t help but notice that, uh, he’s turning eight.” Lisa nodded her head, wondering where this conversation was going with the man. And if that wasn’t enough of an excuse to walk away now, you were begging to slip without being noticed. “You and me…you know.”

Lisa thought about his accusation for a moment before you could see a smile spread across her lips, a forced chuckle coming from her mouth. But the conversation seemed to have stopped for a moment, dragging itself somewhere you didn’t want it to go. You could feel her eyes slowly linger on your presence as you tried slipping away. “Hi, there. I’m sorry. I—I don’t think we met before.”

Your teeth were gritting together, but you could feel your face brighten up when you looked over at Lisa. You reached out and shook the woman’s hand, "We haven’t. My name is Y/N.” You lied, glancing over at the man. “I’m a friend of Dean’s. I just moved in the neighborhood a few states away. He was kind enough to drive me, you know, a little bonding time between friends. I didn’t know you knew him, too. Small world!” Dean cleared his throat, giving you a clue that it was time to leave. You glanced back over at Lisa. “It was nice meeting you. But you know how, um—I’m just gonna go.”

You gave the woman another smile before you were nearly dashing through the home, trying your hardest to avoid the awkward tension that was sure to follow between them. You headed out of the house and to the Impala, slipping yourself inside and slamming the door shut. Who knew things would have turned out like they were. Life could throw you some pretty unexpected curve balls, but this one wasn’t the kind that you were expecting to see happen.

A few minutes passed before you saw Dean coming back from the house. He seemed almost drained from what he had spoken to Lisa about. He didn’t say much before getting himself inside the car right across from you. You gave him a curious look, wondering what had happened in there. But it turned around, not in the way that you were expecting.

“Looks like there
is a job here.” He said, you weren’t seeing that one coming. “You know that one freak accident we read about in the paper. Turns out there’s four more that never even made the paper, all in this Morning Hill gated community. People falling off ladders and drowning in their jacuzzis all over the neighborhood.“

You glanced around the place, seeming that this place almost screamed normal. "That’s weird.”

“Yeah, something’s up.” Dean remarked, reaching up a hand to fix the rear view mirror for a moment before dropping his hand to his lap. “Something these nice, big gates can’t protect them from.”

“You got that right.”

+ + +

Dressed in the best professional clothes you could find, you were flying solo today. You and Sam decided to split the list of homes that were hit with accidental deaths that weren’t adding up, even for you. Mistakes happen to people; someone slips and falls onto a table saw or maybe even falls asleep in their bathtub if they mixed the wrong combinations like drugs and alcohol. It happened before. But from what you had gone through the reports, there was nothing in the systems of people that drowned and the man’s power saw from the newspaper was safe, stopped if anything close to human flesh crossed its path. You were curious to see what was making this little neighborhood suddenly so unsafe.

You knocked on the front door of the last house on your list of all the victim’s families. You waited a moment or so until a woman arrived at the door. She was a recent widow who lost her husband to an accidental mishap on the ladder. He lost his balance and fell backwards, his skull crushing against the pavement. You gave the woman a polite smile, getting ready to explain what you were here for, but your eyes trailed over to a little girl that was standing in the hallway. Her expressions could almost be read with no sort of detectable emotion. The woman seemed to have brushed it off as nothing, making her daughter run off and play, leaving the both of you alone. Your heels echoed off the quiet halls as you stepped inside the home after she welcomed you inside.

As you observed the decor for a moment as the wife closed the door, you felt like someone was still watching you. You turned your head to see that her daughter was hiding behind a corner. Her gaze seemed to have hardened, suddenly acting like you were a threat to her. But when she realized you had caught onto her little game, you watched her scurry out of sight again. You and her mother began speaking of the reason why you were here, using the same speech about wanting to make sure everything in the life insurance claim was went out smoothly before they could start more paperwork. She seemed to have been more than willing to lead you out to the backyard where the accident happened.

“So, once again, I’m very sorry to disturb you.” You said, wrapping your fingers tighter around the clipboard you were carrying to make this seem more real. “We just really want to expedite that life-insurance policy.”

“Of course.” The woman mumbled, nodding her head in agreement. The both of you walked down another set of small stairs before being greeted with where the accident happened. She stood in place, shoving one hand awkwardly in her back pocket as she pointed at the sight. You could tell she was nervous about being back of where her husband passed. “This is, um, where he fell.”

“I see.” You said, glancing over at the woman before you were heading forward to the sight. The ladder was still resting against the wall and the shards of broken glass from the light bulb were brushed off to the sight. “Now, how exactly did he—”

“He was just inside changing a light bulb.” She explained, knowing where your question was leading. You looked over your shoulder to see the woman was quietly trailing behind. “Must have lost his balance.”

You nodded your head, “Now. Were you here when this happened?”

“No. I was out.” She said. “Uh, the only one here was our daughter, Dakota.”

You wondered if that was what causing her daughter to be acting so on edge. She must have saw her husband take the plunge to her death. You cranked your head up forward to the house, seeing that the upstairs window was boarded up for other construction project. But there was a light just next to it, a foot or so away. From the drop that lead to another part of the house, this had to be the only spot that her husband could worked to fix the light bulb. As your eyes trailed down the house, you were caught off guard to see Dakota again—she was standing in the window, staring at you. You tried to smile and wave at her, wondering if that would have done the trick, but she wouldn’t break her creepy glare. But as you glanced down, your eyebrows furrowed.

There was blood just underneath the windowsill of where Dakota was standing on the house. You turned your head to the iron fence, there was more of it. And it didn’t quite fit into the pattern of the husband’s fall. Something strange was really going on here. You were beginning to suspect that these deaths were accidental. Someone, or something, was causing these people to die for a reason you still needed to figure out before someone else got hurt.

“Okay.” You said, turning around in your spot and looking over at the wife. Giving her a smile, you decided that this was enough evidence to show that there was a strange pattern forming in these accidental deaths. “Well, uh, I think that’s all I need. I’ll get out of your way now.”

The wife nodded her head, mumbling a thank you before she was heading for the porch steps again. You were beginning to trail to follow the woman behind, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw something on the back of her neck. You picked up your pace a bit as you leaned in forward, seeing that it was in fact a pretty nasty looking bite mark. It didn’t come from any bug that you seen before. Something about it seemed familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it quite yet.

+ + +

Walking through the neighborhood, you headed forward to the Impala that was parked right in the middle of where you and Sam had split off. He had mentioned something before about meeting back at the motel when he got done with his list of people to start research. You were a few feet from the car, your feet beginning to ache from traveling up and down the streets in heels, but you stopped in your tracks for a moment to see that Dean wasn’t around. You glanced around for a few moments, wondering where he could have wandered off to. It almost seemed strange of him not to be around, but your attention trailed over to the park that was busy for a late afternoon. You walked toward the concrete edge to see the familiar outline of Dean, and a little body sitting next to him.

After a moment of staring, the body that was across from Dean stood up, making you realize that it was Ben. You tracked through the hills and grass, walking father to the bench as the little boy was heading for a group of older boys that were standing around in a circle. You walked around until you were sitting on the bench where Ben was originally sitting, watching the little boy with interest. He turned around after a moment of standing next to the group without anyone paying attention to him. You saw from the corner of your eye that Dean was giving him a thumbs up, as if they hatched up some sort of plan before you got here.

“What is he doing, Dean?”

“Just watch.”

You crossed your arms and leaned back into the bench; Ben tapped a larger boy on the shoulder, trying to get his attention away from whatever he was doing. You wondered what was going on, but you noticed an empty looking game pouch right across from where you were sitting. And the boy that Ben was talking to just so happened to be holding that you saw not too long ago. It was a present that he got from his mother for his birthday. The boy he was talking to must have stole it from him. You narrowed your eyes when you saw the boys seemed to have been showing no sign of handing over the electronics. Ben seemed defeated from trying the nice way. He turned around a bit in his spot, getting ready to leave. The bully was almost mocking Ben for giving up so easily, but it was just a gimmick for what the smaller boy had planned.

A hand pressed itself against your mouth as you winced, seeing the bully fall to the ground after Ben kicked him in the area where boys shouldn’t be fighting with. Dean seemed to have found all of this amusing, letting out a small chuckle as a smile spread across his lips. You turned your head to stare at him, slapping him on the shoulder when you realized he was egging the little boy on. He tried biting his bottom lip to keep from another chuckle coming out as Ben headed forward to the both of you with his game back in hand. A victorious smile spread across his lips, reaching out a free hand to give Dean a high five for what he had done.

“Dude, that was awesome!” Ben declared to the both of you, letting the moment last a bit longer, only before the consequences settled in.

“Benjamin Isaac Braeden!” You cranked your head to the side when you heard a familiar voice ring inside your ears. Your face dropped when you saw Lisa charging forward, her facial expressions were a mix of pissed off and protective as she snatched her son away from you and Dean. “What’s gotten into you?”

“He stole my game.” Ben said, nodding his head forward to the bully.

“So you kick him?! Since when is—” She asked, her voice rising in a tone that made you realize she wasn’t pleased. You gazed your eyesight somewhere else when she looked over at you, before settling on Dean. “Did you tell my son to beat up that kid?”

“What?” Dean asked. “Somebody had to teach how to kick the bully in the nads.”

Lisa’s stare turned icy from his response, “Who asked you to teach him anything?”

Dean tried calming down the mother with a few words, but that didn’t seem to have done the trick. She bent down and grabbed the older man by his arm, dragging him a few feet away from Ben and you, so she could exchange a few words. “What are you even still doing here? We had one weekend together a million years ago. You don’t know me. You have no business with my son.”

Her words seemed to have sunk in deep with the man, leaving a lasting sting on his ego. You watched as she walked away from Dean before finally settling her attention on her son; she wrapped her hand around his and lightly forced him up from the bench, dragging him back to their house. You got up from your seat and let out a quiet sigh at the argument that had taken place. But before you could make it far enough, you were nearly falling back in your tracks from the blurry figure that passed your vision and Lisa calling out her son’s name. Ben was rushing up to Dean, wrapping his small hands around the man’s waist as he gave him a hug, mumbling a thank you for what the man had done for him. Finally, you watched as Ben finally went back to his mother, a bit more happy.

When the family was far enough away, you walked over to Dean and shook your head in disapproval for the scene that Dean caused. “You shouldn’t have done that, you know.” You mumbled, knowing that Lisa was right about everything. “He’s not your kid to raise.”

“It was just some friendly advice, Y/N.” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes.

You let out a quiet scoff, "Right. Let’s go before Lisa calls the cops on you.”

Dean was beginning to follow behind you when you turned around on your heels. You made it a few steps before that eerily familiar of someone staring at you caught your attention. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced over at a group of three children that were standing still, just across from the field. You watched as their heads slowly turned away from whatever they were staring at, and making their prime target you and Dean. Furrowing your eyebrows, you turned your gaze to the older man, wondering if he was getting the same vibe. It only took a nod before the both of you were rushing out of here.

+ + +

You and Dean arrived back into town just after the sun was beginning to set. You decided to meet up with the other brother to see if he happened to find anything on what was going on around town. The motel pulled into view after the both of you spent most of the drive in almost complete silence. You couldn’t tell if Dean was upset because of what you said to him, or perhaps it was because how Lisa blew up at him like that. He had been itching to see her again after so many years of being apart from one another. Thinking a bit more about it, you knew deep down Dean was just trying to help Ben. But Lisa just wouldn’t see it that way, lashing out with words that seemed to have hurt Dean, more than you thought it would.

You tried to slowly ease the man into letting him spill the beans, but he brushed it off, acting like nothing was wrong. It was dropped when you heard the engine die down and Dean saying something about meeting back in his motel room after you changed out of the oh so formal clothes. You pushed open the passenger side door and shoved your hand inside your pocket, heading for your own room, giving at least one moment of silence to catch your breath. It was beginning to bother you that you didn’t know what was happening in town. It seemed like all of you had stepped into some cheesy horror film, something was making these kids creepily emotionless. After everything that they had been going through, you would have thought anger would be at least a common trait.

You put your thoughts on hold for a moment to get yourself properly dressed and out of these heels and skirt. You managed to put on a decent top and jeans before you were on the door again, beginning to make your way down the small path that lead to the brothers own motel room. As you were putting the keys of your room into your pocket, you looked up for a moment to see a family of three just across the parking lot. A little girl was standing in between her parents as they loaded up the car to leave this place. You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw that she was staring at you for the longest time. Waving to see if that would cause a reaction, she just kept staring at you.

Shaking your head, you turned around to see that the motel door was opened to see Dean, he was waiting for you to join the fun. You gave him a small smile before you heard the door shut after you stepped inside. "Something’s seriously wrong with the kids in town.” You said, knowing your experience outside was just another example. “It’s just…creepy.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it.” Sam said. His focus was kept on his laptop as he kept himself busy with research that wasn’t about breaking a demon deal, all sorts of sheets and articles were printed out and scattered across the room and desk he was sitting at. You wandered around until you plopped yourself down on the edge of the bed, reaching out a hand to grab a sheet of paper that must have been about the possible creature that you were hunting. “So, Y/N, what do you know about changelings?”

You thought about it for a moment before you came up with an assumption, “Evil monster babies come to mind.”

“No, not necessarily babies.” Sam corrected you.

“Oh. You mean they’re kids,” You said, pushing yourself up from the bed again, letting the paper drift off to land on the mattress. “Creepy, ‘stare at you like you’re lunch’ kids. I think I saw a few of them today. Either that, or this town is harboring some future serial killers.”

“Well, we got a changelings problem.” Sam declared. He lifted up a satellite picture of the neighborhood, a handful of houses were marked with a red marker. You grabbed the picture and let out a quiet sigh when you realized the trouble brewing. “There’s one at every victim’s house.”

You kept yourself momentarily busy, and out of the way, to get yourself caught up with what all of you were dealing with. It seemed that these creatures liked to feed on humans, and their perfect disguise was children. The more you kept reading about this creatures, the more your eyebrows were frowning from the disturbance you were beginning to feel. Whenever children were involved on cases, you could feel a protective barrier coming forward. You flipped through a few pages more before you decided that you were clear enough with what you were hunting.

“So, from what I read, it seems changelings can perfectly mimic children.” You said, glancing up from the papers and at the brothers. “According to the lore, they climb into the window, snatch the kid. Which explains the marks I saw at the victim’s houses. There were marks on the windowsill at a few of the kid’s houses. Looked like blood to me.”

Dean paused in his actions for a moment to stop tinkering around with the weapon that was the only thing that could kill this creature. “The changeling grabs a kid, assumes its form, joins the happy fam just for kicks?” Dean asked, wondering if that was their ultimate motive.

Sam let out a quiet chuckle, “Not quite. Changelings feed on the mom, synovial fluid. The moms have these odd bruises on the back of their necks.” You nodded your head, knowing that it had explained what you saw on Dakota’s mother before you left her house earlier today. “Changelings can drain them for a few weeks before Mom finally croaks.”

“And there’s Dad and the babysitter,” You said, pointing out something which was bugging you. Now it was explaining why all those other murdered victims that were being covered up with accidental deaths around their home. “Seems like anyone who gets between the changeling’s food source ends up dead.”

“And fire’s the only way to waste them?” Dean asked, wanting to make sure. He lifted up the makeshift torch that was making you confused, even wondering if it was going to even work. But Sam nodded his head. “Great. We’ll just burst in, drag the kids out, torch them on the front lawn. That will play great with the neighbors.”

You rolled your eyes from his sarcastic undertone, "What about the real kids? What happens to them?”

“According to the lore, they stash them underground somewhere.” Sam explained. You let out a quiet sigh, running your fingers through your hair from the thought of that being a possibility. “I don’t know why, but if it’s true, the real kids might be out there somewhere.”

“We better start looking.” Dean suggested, packing the rest of the gear up for the hunt ahead and straight into the duffel bag. You pushed yourself up from the bed before setting down the sheets of paper you’ve been holding on to, getting ready to join on the search. It was quiet between all of you for a moment before he spoke up again. “So, any kid in the neighborhood is vulnerable?”

Sam nodded his head, “Yep.”

“We got to make a stop. I want to check on someone.” Dean said, grabbing his coat from the bed and heading for the door. You thought about it for a moment before you realized who was out there that could have been a possible target. It could have been Ben. Sam got up from the bed, knowing there could have been a possible time crunch for the other children, but you knew this was important to Dean. “We have to, Sam.”

You could see Sam’s attention linger over to you for a moment, wondering what was happening. All you could do was follow behind the man. Maybe it was because Dean wanted to make sure the boy was okay. Maybe there was another reason, and he wasn’t ready to tell either one of you just yet.

+ + +

You awkwardly shifted around on the doorsteps of Lisa’s house; you shoved your hands inside your jacket pocket as you waited for someone to answer the door, at this time of night, the family of two must be winding down. You couldn’t believe you talked yourself into do this. Dean was more than eager to see the woman himself, but knowing the two didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms, you decided to take his place. Maybe she could sense that something was wrong. One woman to another. The both of you had a protective streak in you, and get the hell out of town with Ben before it was too late. You tapped your foot against the pavement porch and reached out a hand again, knocking a bit louder, until you could see her shadow pass by.

The front door opened to reveal Lisa, a look of surprise stretched across her face to see the stranger was you. Neither one of you had exchanged much words, but you hoped there was enough of a good impression to know you were here for a quick, friendly visit. “Hi, Lisa.” You greeted her, your lips stretching into a warm smile. “I was just in the neighborhood and something hit me. Dean and I didn’t get Ben a present.”

"That’s okay.” She said, giving you a confused expression, seeming to wonder why you were even here at this time of night.

“No. Oh, no. I would feel terrible. And Dean was nagging me to do this, he said it would hopefully make up for what happened this afternoon, too.” You said, patting around your pockets before you pulled out one of the many stolen credit cards and handing it right over to the woman. “Take a long weekend–just the two of you–on Dean. I saw this really cute amusement park not too far from here Ben might really love. Go now. Avoid the traffic.”

Lisa inspected the card for a moment before glancing up at you, “Seigfried Houdini. Whose card is this?”

“Dean’s. I promise.” You lied, trying to keep up the act. “It’ll work. He doesn’t care.”

“Look, Y/N, you seem like a nice girl. But you shouldn’t waste your time meddling in other people’s business.” Lisa said, handing the card back over to you. “You should leave. Please, it’s late.”

Your fingers wrapped around the tough plastic, opening your mouth to try and convince the woman that her son was in danger, but it seemed that you were too late. Your eyes drifted away from the woman when you heard a familiar voice ask, “Mommy, what’s wrong?” It was Ben. You could see that he wasn’t like himself, he was more lifeless and almost cold. And he was staring at you like you were the monster here instead of him. Just like how the other children were when you inspected all those houses. And the kids at the park, too.

“Nothing, Ben.” You called out, leaning over to the side to give the little boy a smile. But he just kept staring at you. “It’s cool. Your mom and I were just talking.”

“Make her go away, Mommy.” Ben said.

You swallowed, hating what you had just discovered. “You heard him. Leave, please.” Lisa said, seeming to think that you were the real danger here. You opened your mouth, barely speaking her name before you knew this was all over. “Damn it. Whatever Dean said to persuade you here, it’s done. I don’t want him or you near my son again. Get out!”

And with that off her chest, you watched as Lisa reached out a hand and slammed the door directly on your face. You winced from the banging sound that echoed through the night air. You waited a moment before you decided that it was time to do a little searching around here. Maybe Ben was tired, that could have explained his emotional state. You headed off the porch steps and looked over at the windows, wondering where Lisa was heading around in her home. You could see her shadow dancing around a room before you saw her disappear from sight, giving you a minute or so to figure out what the hell was going on before you jumped to any conclusions.

You wandered around to the side of the house, making sure to be extra careful and not bump or step on anything that could give you away. Luckily her neighbors seemed to have been asleep from the lack of lights as you traveled through to make your sweep. You fished out your flashlight when you caught something that seemed off putting on the white details of the home, it was something you’ve seen a few times before. Your flashlight shined on the familiar red substance that stained the edging of the wood. Reaching out a finger and taking a small sample on the tip, you were surprised to notice it felt more thicker and cold when you rubbed it together. This wasn’t blood, it was dirt. You looked up, your flashlight catching p a second later. There was more of it on the windowsill that lead to Ben’s bedroom.

You let out a few colorful words slip through your lips before you went off back to meet the boys. It seemed that the three of you were too late at stopping this. You just hoped there was still time to make sure Ben was still alive. As you exited from Lisa’s house and started down the path, you started off briskly walking before you found yourself jogging, wanting nothing more than to get this hunt wrapped up. Funny how all of this started off as just some trip down memory lane, now you were on the search of finding a group of kids before they were gone forever. Or worse, dead.

"They took Ben.” You managed to say, slowing down to a walk again as you headed back to the Impala.Dean’s face jump with worry when you delivered the unwanted news nobody expected to hear. “He’s changed.“

“What?” Sam asked with shock. You nearly ripped open the door when you came to the car, you slipped yourself inside and settled into the backseat again. “Are you sure.”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” You said. “I checked his windowsill.”

“Blood?” Dean wondered, you shook your head.

"I don’t think it’s blood,” You said. “And I think I know where the kids are.”

+ + +

Most of the neighborhood was still in development for the families that were urging to have a place to live. And it was a perfect place to stash a few unwanted kids which could have been seen as a problem for a changeling. You watched as the homes began to slowly dwindle away as everyone headed for the construction taking place just a mile down the road. The Impala pulled up the curve of a home that had a large pile that you pointed out. When the car shut off, you got out, with the brothers following behind as you headed for the dirt. Sam headed over to you with a flashlight when you reached out a hand to scoop up a small handful of the substance. Running it through your fingers and letting it fall back into the pile, you knew this was what you saw before.

“Red dirt.” Sam said, letting out a quiet chuckle. “That’s what was on the window.”

“You take the front.” Dean instructed to his brother, walking over to the backseat to reach out and grab one of the bags for his brother before tossing it off. “Y/N and I’ll split up and go around.”

You reached out a hand and grabbed the bag from Dean, placing the strap over your shoulder before you took the left side of the house. You wandered through the dirt and pieces of wood until you were sneaking through the unfinished house. A deep silence echoed through the home as you traveled quiet as you could, hoping not to step too hard on the wood as you continued. You couldn’t see anything that was leading you to figuring out where the children were being kept. As you wandered deeper into the home, you began thinking you might have been wrong about where the kids were being kept. But the sound of someone calling out your name from not that far away sparked hope.

You had to get all the way downstairs to the basement until made the discovery; there was at least half a dozen cages that were lying on the floor with heavy duty chains and locks keeping the children inside. A sigh of relief escaped your lips when you saw that most of them were in good condition, a few looked to have been worn out from the lack of proper nutrition. You were quick to notice that Ben was in fact safe himself, making you feel a bit more at ease. As you continued checking on the kids and tested out a few of the locks, you stumbled on something you weren’t expecting. You saw an older woman, the realtor from the party, was inside one of the cages, almost out of it.

“We’re gonna get you guys out of here.” You dropped down to a crouch, wrapping your fingers in the small holes of the metal cages and gave all the children a smile. “But you have to keep quiet, all right? Dean and I are gonna make sure you get back safe to your parents. It’ll be over soon.”

You pulled yourself back up into a standing position when you heard Dean getting to work. You reached to grab your own flashlight that was sturdy enough to break these locks. Using all the force inside your body, you began smashing the metal end on the lock, having to slam it down a few more times than Dean before the first lock broke free. Ben and Dean were quick, helping all of the kids out of the cage and onto their feet. You were on the last child, who seemed to have been here the longest from the state of how they looked. You reached inside and picked them up, carrying them forward to the window to see that Dean was trying his hardest to get a piece of plywood free from the one place that all of you could get these kids to safety. But it wasn’t budging.

“Cover your eyes!” Dean instructed to you all, reaching down a free hand to snatch an iron rod from where he was standing. You turned around and pressed the child’s head against your shoulder, all while trying to keep the others safe. You could hear the sound of the window breaking and the small shards hit your backside. but it seemed none of the kids were hit from the flying debris.

“Here.” You looked down to see Ben was taking off his jacket and handing it to Dean. “Use this.”

Dean brushed away the remaining glass before he laid down the jacket to make it easier for the kids to escape. “All right, Ben. Come on.” Dean instructed the boy to step on the small crate, wanting to get him out first. But the younger boy was selfless, pushing on your backside, wanting to get the child you were holding out first. You walked forward, helping the kid out as best as you could, watching as they slipped out into the grass. But as you and Dean were ready to start on the next kid, you heard Sam’s voice boom through the unfinished halls.

“Hey! Dean, Y/N!” Sam shouted, running through the room until he was in sight again. “There’s a mother.”

“A mother changeling? Really?” You hissed, reaching out a hand for the next child and leading them to Dean who helped them scale up the wall and through the window. “Sam, there’s another one. You’re gonna have to break the lock.”

“I guess that’s why the changelings are keeping the kids alive,” Dean said, helping one of the few children left out of the window. “So the mom can snack on them.”

You mumbled the man’s name, knowing from his speculation had caused the remaining children to look a bit terrified, thinking that could have been their fate if none of you were fast enough. Your back was turned to the rest of the kids as you helped one to step up, but a young female scream caused you to quickly turn around, wondering what was going on. “Mommy’s home!” You shouted to the brothers, snatching a few of the girls away before they could get into harm’s way.

Dean had left you in charge of keeping the children safe for a moment as he tried fighting off the other woman. You ordered them to be quiet as possible as you headed for the window, trying your hardest to finish the job. As you got all of them out of the line of fire, you helped one more onto the wooden crate and began trying your hardest to lift them up. But compared to your height and strength to Dean’s, this was becoming a bit more of a challenge. You made yourself lift up the small body higher when you heard the sound of wood breaking and a body slamming just a moment later, knowing that wasn’t a good sign to follow what happened next.

You looked over your shoulder to see that you were out two when you saw that Dean was nowhere to be seen and Sam tried joining the fight, but seemed to have been lost himself. You pushed the body upwards and out the window, all before your eyes locked on the iron bar that wasn’t too far from where you were standing. You eyed it for a moment as the woman slowly headed forward, wanting what she thought seemed rightfully hers. In a blink of an eye, you bend down and snatched the rod, all before reaching up and hitting the thing right across the head, letting her body fly backwards into the ground. It was enough of a distraction before you saw one of the brothers come back, getting ready to finish the fight.

Turning around on your heels, you locked eyes with Ben. “All right, kiddo. Let’s do this.”

There was only Ben and another little girl left that needed to make it out of here. You grabbed her hand and tried figuring out a way to get them out of here before it was too late. But as you turned your head to see where Ben could have gone, your face lit up when you saw him carrying a heavy canister to the box. He seemed to have been a bright boy, a natural born leader. You thanked him, reaching up to slid it over and stepped up onto the makeshift step stool. The little girl was first to go. It was easier with the extra height, giving you a chance for her to slip through the window and out she went. You waved on Ben to follow behind and head for the window. He climbed up and was on the wooden box before he looked over at the brothers, wondering what was going on.

“Come on, Ben.” You said, drawing the boy out of his thoughts. When you saw the woman stumble across the room and into another, you knew the fight was almost done. And he didn’t need see what happened next, he was probably scared enough. He was out on the grass and sprinting off to join the rest when you heard the woman’s screams of her fiery death.

+ + +

Everything seemed to have been back to normal again. You and the brothers arrived back to the motel after dropping Ben back off at his house, enjoying the small moment of happiness that followed after seeing him being reunited back with his mother. All of the other children that you had saved from the changeling were safe themselves, tucked back into their homes without a chance of seeing something happening like that again. But it was the questions you’d been pushing off for the past few days since arriving into town that began settling inside your mind. You turned your head away from the highway to the backseat window, seeing the parking lot of the motel come into view. Soon this was just going to be another case solved. All of you would be back on the road again, looking for something else to pass the time.

When you felt the Impala slowly stop to a halt and the engine die, you slipped out the car with the brothers following behind in your actions. An unwanted yawn escaped your lips from the lack of sleep you’ve been getting from the unexpected case sprung up. Sam had mentioned about having to slip away for a while to do some research for the rest of the afternoon. Of course, Dean began to speculate it was about the demon deal that his brother had been so obsessed with over the past few weeks. You distracted the older man by mentioning something about grabbing a bite to eat, giving Sam some time alone to think. If he was serious about wanting to find answers of how to break this deal, you were going to give him some time. He was always good at finding answers for the hardest questions. Maybe this time he could figure it out before it was too late.

“So,” You began a conversation, dragging one of your bags from the trunk and dropping it to the pavement. You watched as Sam shoved the key into the door, slipping inside and disappearing from sight. Putting your attention on is brother, you gave the man a curious look from the question you were going to say. “Should you start calling me auntie Y/N?”

Dean’s lips couldn’t help themselves but stretch into the smallest smile from the unfunny joke you tried pulling. He thought about the right answer for a moment, knowing him and Lisa had shared a conversation about the rocky topic before leaving the family for good. You watched as Dean leaned over inside the trunk, shoving a few things around before he was finally admitting the truth to you. “Nah.” He said, shaking his head. You crossed your arms over your chest and leaned yourself against the side of the car, wanting to see his facial expressions. The man might have been a good liar, but there were always little hints he couldn’t hide. “She got a blood test right after he was born. Turns out I’m off the hook.”

The both of you keep quiet for a few moments; you watch as Dean moves a few things around to make room for the always growing collection of duffel bags and weapons. You’re keeping close attention to his expressions and how he keeps acting around you. He seems pretty quiet, almost acting like he was upset from what he head learned today. Ben seemed like a pretty interesting kid, almost fooled you into thinking that Dean could have been his father. But it seemed that things didn’t work out that way, or how the older man wanted them to.

“If you don’t mind me saying,” You push yourself back into a standing position. You’re treading on eggshells from what you were about to say next. “But you seem, I don’t know, disappointed.”

Dean Winchester’s Point of View.

Of course he was. There was a reason why he’d spent all the months after his father passed away on the road with you and his brother. A name was created out there, and it only seemed fit to continue on with what their father had taught them. But seeing Ben, it made the man wonder about his distant future. Who was going to continue his work? He always thought about quitting and settling down, have a few children of his own. But he also remembered what his father had put him and his brother were put through. Years of running around on the road, countless motel rooms and training that made him feel more like a solider to John than his own son at times. He had left Ben with a mother and future that Dean could never have. That was good enough for him.

But there was something else that was bothering him. He couldn’t deny that seeing Lisa again brought up feelings that came up every once in awhile. The idea of settling down with someone and forgetting about everything and anything about hunting seemed like the light at the end of the tunnel. He was tired of fighting a losing battle. For once, he wanted to be the person that could live a happy ever after when the hunt was done. Lisa seemed like the woman that he could find himself rekindling an old flame that hadn’t been felt in years. He didn’t care that she had a son that wasn’t his own. He just wanted to feel normal again.

Dean remembered how much he taunted and made fun of his brother for wanting that apple pie lifestyle that he thought would have achieved with Jess. He thought that their lives were always supposed to be about hunting and killing the bad guys. But after having the encounter with the djinn, seeing what life could have been like if nothing happened, Dean couldn’t stop himself think of everything that could have been. If all those years ago had turned out like it was in the dream, maybe he would want to stick around a little longer. How he wouldn’t mind hunting with his brother on the road and killing monsters that deserved it if it meant seeing her face after a grueling, long hunt. His eyes lingered away from the weapons and duffel bags, to your body.

These past few years on the road wasn’t what he wanted between the both of you. He wanted you at home, living a normal life he could squeeze himself into and pretend like everything’s all right for awhile before finding another case. All though, he knows that there’s never going to be a chance to have that moment of normalcy between the both of you. And he isn’t the one to break the ice with admitting the one thing that he kept hidden from everyone. If he was going to Hell by the end of the year, he wanted one thing out of all of this; you and his brother on the road, sharp and hunting the things that deserved to be killed. Dean always could keep his feelings hidden well enough from everyone. A few more months weren’t going to hurt.

Dean brushes off the heavy emotions that seemed to have clouded his judgement. He pushed up into a standing position, reaching up his arms to shove the trunk closed. You keep staring at him with that face he knew too well. You were trying to read him, like always. But he wasn’t going to have you poking around in his head right now. All he wanted to do was enjoy this moment of peace and quiet for once without having to indulge in anymore emotions. Today was enough.

He bent down to grab your bag up from the ground before the other reaches over and drapes itself around your shoulders, pulling your body closer to his. The both of you begin walking to the motel rooms in sync. “Everything happens for a reason, Y/N.” Dean says, glancing away from the road before back down at your face. “We can’t change what’s coming. But I have to admit one thing. If I had to be stuck with one woman for the rest of my year, I’m glad it’s going to be you.”

+ + +

You tapped your pen against your notebook, making a rhythm coming along in tune with the music that flooded through your headphones. It seemed you found yourself losing concentration on the research you’d been doing for the past hour. Nothing new caught your attention and Sam seemed to have been busy enough with making all sort of phone calls, brushing you out of his room when you tried seeing what he was up to. Dean was out of town for the next few hours to make either a food or supply run for the long drive ahead. You decided to have kept yourself busy by doing more digging to see if you could find anything and compare notes with the other brother, but it seemed you were finding another boredom spell coming over you.

As you switched browsers to start another search on possible cases, you stopped in your tracks when you saw something cross the motel window’s curtains. Soon enough, you were shaking your head from the thought that there could have been another guest wandering around outside. The thought made you feel a bit less paranoid that something else could have been out there. But as you got yourself just a bit more comfortable at the desk, you knew it wouldn’t last for long. A sudden sound of something dropping to the ground made you jump a few inches out of your chair, making your headphones rip out of your ears and sling to the floor. You placed a hand on your heart, peering over your shoulder, beginning to wonder what the hell was going on. Keeping quiet for a moment, you heard it again.

You swallowed slightly as you glanced over at your duffel bag that was sitting on the bed. You decided to slowly get up from your chair and headed over, quickly scurrying around to see where you kept your weapons you’d been carrying around for protection. Just as your hand reached for a gun, a voice stopped you in your tracks. “Might wanna go for the holy water. It’s more effective.”

Peering over your shoulder, you see someone you thought would never show up again. It was the same woman you had met briefly back during the hunt with the demons that represented the seven deadly sins. She was sitting on the edge of the desk, her ankles crossed together and palms pressed against the wooden desk. You knew she was the one that you should have been thanking that saved your life. But it seemed you had more questions that burned for your attention than thanking her for saving your life. “How the hell did you get in here?” You asked, knowing it was the first one that slipped out from the many more that demanded to be answered.

“Can’t a girl just pop in to say hello?” She’s acting casual around you, dodging your question with another one. You watch as she reaches out a hand to grab your notebook that’s filled with all sorts of notes and information. “Quite the researcher, Y/N. I can see why you’re trying so hard to save your friend, Dean. I think the both of you would make quite a cute couple. He sure cares for you.”

You reach for the gun and put your finger on the trigger, pointing it at the woman’s chest, directly where her heart is. “I’ll ask you again, bitch. How the hell did you get in here?” You question her.

"Jeez. You and Sam have a temper, don’t you? But, fine. If it makes you happy…” The woman blinks for a moment, before she opens her eyes again. You see the same color that makes you stumble backwards in fear, knowing this gun wasn’t going to help. She was a demon. You didn’t exactly have the best relationship with them. “Think twice before going for that holy water, Y/N.”

You let out a scoff, not taking a chance of letting this end in your premature death. “Give me one good reason I should.” You remark, finding the flask was hidden in the bottom of your bag. You finally take it out and rip off the top off, letting it fall to the bed. “Was this your plan all along? Wait until I was alone and kill me?“

“What? No.” She said. “I can explain. I’m here to help you.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” You asked her, letting out a bitter laugh. “You’re a demon.”

“Oh, please. Like you’re any better than me.” She says. Your face scrunched up from her comment you weren’t expecting to hear. “I know what he did to you, Y/N. How much have you been struggling to keep your temper under control? Oh, I bet the nightmares have been so much fun. Yellow Eyes always had a knack for sticking around longer than he expected. But you can really thank your Daddy for what you’re going through.”

You swallow slightly from the mention of your father, “What do you want?”

“I told you what I told Sam. I’m here because I want to help the both of you.“ She explains everything so vaguely, which isn’t making you feel any comfortable. You watch as she shuts the notebook and sets it down on the table again. "Let’s not focus on me. How about we talk about your folks? Your mom always seemed to had the rich background. Born and raised a hunter for all twenty something years of her life. You heard was something that made her quit out of the blue one day. But did you know what it was? Her folks were the breaking point.”

“I never met them before.” You admit. “They died before I was born.”

“Correct. Your mom was right about that, but she didn’t explain much about her own home life. Your grandparents were hunters, too. Pretty great, actually.” The demon said, keeping herself occupied by roaming around the room. “But it seems your dear grandma got a nasty cancer nobody saw coming. She died six months later. Your poor grandfather was so heartbroken, he got pretty cozy with the bottle. Ella found him dead on the kitchen floor. That was the final straw for her–she packed up her belongings and got the hell out of town. And, well, you know the rest of the story.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask her, wondering where she’s dragging this conversation towards. “Are you just here to recollect on old family memories?”

She lets a small smile spread across her lips from her comment, seeming to have found it nothing but hilarious. “No. I was just in the neighborhood and something got me wondering. What do you know about your father? I mean, where he lived before Kanas, who his parents are. You know, the basics.” You open your mouth, getting ready to answer, but you come up blank. “Thought so.”

“He died when I was baby. And my mother never wanted to talk about him.” You said, not even sure why you were admitting all of this to the demon. “Whatever secrets he was trying to hide, if that’s why you’re here, I don’t have a clue.”

Well, you know what the demon said about your father. I can clarify that Yellow Eyes wasn’t wrong.“ She said, making you curious for more answers. She knows from the look that you were giving her, you were hooked on whatever she was here for. “But there’s just a few things I’m still trying to figure out. All I know is that you’re more like him than you realize. And I want to know he became human. If you help me, I’ll help you.”

You narrow your eyes at her, seeming to have found all of this either overwhelming or too good to be true. Never have you met a demon that had saved your life before from others and claiming to know more about your family’s past than you did. "Why are you doing this?” You ask her.

The demon shrugs and crosses her arms over her chest, “I have my reasons. Not all demons are the same, Y/N. Not all of us want the same thing. Me? I want to help you and your friends from time to time. That’s all. And if you let me, there’s something in it for you and Dean.”

“Right. You demons always got the deals hidden up your sleeve.” You mumble, rolling your eyes from what she was hinting around. “What could you possibly give me?”

“I could help you save your friend. No dying required on your part.” She says. You narrow your eyes at her, thinking this was too good to be true. “And if you’re feeling friendly enough, I could teach you a few tricks. Show you exactly how to keep that inner bitch under control. Nobody has to know what we’re doing.” You know what she’s been hinting around, but you try and avoid the conversation by looking anywhere but her. “That’s what friends do, right? We keep secrets from everyone that aren’t like us. And who won’t understand.”

You think for a few more moments before you reaching for the top to the flask, putting it back on and dropping it to the duffel bag. You were giving her a chance, wondering what she had to offer you in return. She hasn’t done any wrong yet, but you keep the bottle close, just in case all of this is a twisted joke. “Fine.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Start talking.”

Chapter Text

It started off as an innocent conversation between you and the youngest Winchester, back at the motel. You wanted to know more information about this demon, whose name you learned was Ruby. And it seemed she was showing more of a soul than you’d ever thought. She promised the both of you details of how to get Dean out of this crossroads deal, and a few other things you weren’t quite in the sharing mood to have brought up at the time. Sam seem on board with trying to believe this demon’s every word, you, on the other hand, were still skeptical. And you could understand why. Every demon you had faced in the path wasn’t exactly warm and welcoming, you doubted Ruby would be different from her kind.

While you had wanted to keep this between you and Sam, he decided to be brave and strike up a conversation a few miles back. And just like how you speculated, an argument sparked between you three—causing you to be divided in the middle. All though as words continued to get exchanged, you found yourself slowly going to Sam’s side, finding the points were connecting better than the ones Dean was trying to make.

“Ruby had numerous attempts to kill us, but she didn’t. Maybe she’s really trying to help us, Dean!” You argued the point at Dean. You were learning forward until you were almost pressing yourself against the front leather seats, trying your hardest to break through to the man. But he kept his gaze on the road, shaking his head from your almost pitiful attempts at trying to change his mind. “Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”

“Because she’s a demon, Y/N. That’s why.” Dean lectured you from the front seat, like how he had been for the past fifteen minutes. You rolled your eyes from his stubborn attitude and turned your gaze to the darkened back roads, watching as the shadows of trees pass you back. “I mean, the second you two find out this Ruby chick is a demon, you go for the holy water. You don’t chat.”

Sam let out a scoff from his brother’s accusation, obviously not pleased with how this conversation was turning out. You could hear the frustration in his voice when he spoke up next for his turn in the argument. “No one was chatting, Dean.” He corrected his brother, keeping his attention on the front of the road.

“Oh, yeah?” Dean curiously asked. He turned his gaze away from the streets for a moment to give his little brother a stern expression. “Then why didn’t you send her back to Hell?”

“Because,” Sam started, seeming to drive this conversation further more into the argument his brother wanted, but he quickly turned it back around to the reason why he wanted it brought up in the first place. “Because she said she might be able to help us out.”

“How?” Dean questioned the both of you. You and Sam locked eyes for a moment, wondering if you wanted to bring up the truth, but the both of you ended up falling silent once more. That didn’t stop the man from pressing harder. “Oh, really, guys? How could she possibly help us?”

Your fingernails dug into your palm, knowing your breaking point was coming closer than you had realized. You thought that Sam was going to be the one and shout out the truth, but you were the person to deliver the news. “She told us she could help you, okay?” You nearly shouted at him. But your voice calmed down you realized what you had done. Sam was peering over his shoulder slightly, Dean dropped to a dead silence as if he was trying to process what’s you said. “Help you out of the crossroads deal.”

Dean’s eyes glanced up to the rear view mirror, his face was written with an expression like you should have been wearing a dunce cap from what you had said. You rolled your eyes again, knowing his lecture was getting fuel for what you had said. “What’s wrong with you two, huh? She’s lying. You got to know that, don’t you? She knows what your weakness is. It’s me.” Dean said. When he put it that way. You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back in your seat, knowing he was right about all of this. But you weren’t going to admit that. “What else did she say?” You or Sam refused to speak. “Guys?”

“Nothing.” Sam muttered underneath his breath.

You turned your gaze away from the window when you felt like someone was staring at you. Of course, Dean was peering over his shoulder every so often. You let out a scoff, seeming to be losing your temper from his look. “Nothing, okay?” You clarified, rolling your eyes from how the older man was acting. “Look, we’re not idiots, Dean. I’m not talking about trusting her. We’re talking about using her.”

"Y/N, I would have never thought someone like you would stoop so low.” Dean said, his sarcasm shining through from the plan you and Sam had spoken about. You let out a sharp breath, trying to control the urge of lashing out at the man from the unwanted comment that was only aiding to your anger. “You two can keep going. I still don’t trust this chick.”

“We’re at war, right? And we don’t know jack about the enemy. We don’t know where they are. We don’t know what they’re doing. Hell, we don’t even know what they want.” Sam said, drawing a few important points up. Dean kept quiet while his brother continued. “Now, this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it’s a risk. Y/N and I know that. But we need to take it.”

This almost seemed like Opposite Day for a moment; Sam, the level headed brother, was rambling on about using a demon for the advantage of an upcoming threat that had all of you still in the dark and wondering what it was. And Dean was playing the cautious one, wondering what the aftermath would lead. “You two are…okay, right?” Dean asked the both of you, making your face scrunch up in confusion for a moment. “I mean, you’re feeling okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine! Why are you always asking me that?” You snapped at the man, throwing up a hand to add for the effect of how annoyed you were. Dean opened his mouth to answer that, but you cut him off. “And don’t you dare even say it, Winchester. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I won’t pissed off from your obnoxious behavior all throughout the month.”

The conversation seemed to have died on that note when you heard the sound of a phone ringing echo through the car. You shoved your hand inside your pocket, wondering it could have been yours, but you were left with the home screen. Each brother checked their own to see that it wasn’t coming from either one of you. Still, didn’t explain who was calling.

“Check the glove compartment. It’s Dad’s.” Dean said, nodding his head for his brother. Sam muttered something, obviously wondering why the man’s phone was still around. “I keep it charged in case any of his old contacts call.”

Sam shrugged off the excuse as he reached out a hand to open up the compartment, searching around through some papers before he was pulling out a burner phone. “Hello? Yes, this is Edgar Casey.” Sam said, glancing over at the both of you. His face was full of confusion, wondering what this conversation was about, until the person on the other line spoke again. “No. Don't—Don’t call the police. I’ll handle it myself. You know, can you just lock it up for me? Great. Uh, I, uh, I don’t have my book in front of me.” Sam was patting around his jacket for a pen to write down the address. You looked in the backseat with what light you had, but found a piece of scrap you were writing on earlier with a pen, handing it over to the man. “Sure. Okay. Go ahead. Thanks a lot.”

When the conversation wraps up a moment later, you were sitting back up in your seat again, filled with curiosity. "Well?” You asked the younger man, wanting to know what this was all about.

“Did Dad tell either of you kept kept a container at a storage place?” Sam asked you and Dean. You shook your head no, seeming surprised to have heard the news. “Outside of Buffalo.”

“No way.” Dean muttered, taken back from hearing about this.

“Yeah.” Sam said, saving the best part for last. “And someone just broke into it.”

+ + +

All of you drove to upstate New York, making it into town just after the offices opened for you and the brothers to take a peek around. The person sitting behind the desk still seemed to have been half-asleep, which wasn’t a problem when they handed over the keys for John’s compartment, allowing all of you to head on your merry way. You were the first one to head onto the shady looking elevator with the brothers following behind in suit. Looking around at the industrial building, you crossed your arms over your chest when you heard the groans and echo come from the metal before you were on your way. Halfway down the ride, Dean spoke up first.

“Man.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. You and Sam gave the man a curious sort of glance, wondering what he was trying to say. “It’s just Dad. You know, him and his secrets. We spent all this time with this guy and we barely even know the man.”

“Well,” You began to speak, but a hand pressed itself against the concrete wall when the elevator had a shaky landing from the stop. “You two are about to learn something.”

You followed behind the brothers as all of you searched for the storage facility on the basement level until you found it, in one of the most secluded spots around. Standing next to Sam, you looked over your shoulder at the parking lot that was dimly lit and full of almost no life. If the creepiness of this place didn’t scare off anyone from sight, you knew John had a few tricks up his sleeve to keep whatever treasures he had hidden away from the world, and his children. Dean shoved the key inside the lock, making you look over just as the metal door began swinging open to see whatever was inside.

Sam, who was the only holding the only flashlight that was on, peered through to see what was so special about the inside of this place. You followed the light to see that there was objects all around crammed into this space. But you could see something painted red on the floor that trapped the one thing he hated the most.

“No demons allowed.” Sam said, noting the devil’s trap.

You leaned forward, your eyebrows furrowing together from the sight of a familiar looking substance staining the concrete. You shoved a hand inside your jacket pocket and pulled out your own flashlight, taking a few steps forward so you could take a closer peek. “Is that,” You whispered, reaching a finger to touch the substance. But when you felt the sticky liquid touch your fingertip, you quickly pulled away with regret. “Blood. Of course it is.”

“Hey, check this out.” Dean said, crouching down to inspect the mess further. Your flashlight caught a silver piece of metal wire that was lined out through the entire length of the room. You followed until you saw that it was connected to an object on the top shelf. Good old John had a booby trap set. He had managed to wire up a gun pointed at whoever was dumb enough to trip the wire and shoot off the gun, explaining the mess of blood and footprints on the ground.

“Whoever broke in here got attacked.” You said, taking a step back for caution.

“Dear, old Dad.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath, letting out a soft laugh. You and Sam continued looking over the objects hidden inside the room for a brief moment. “I got two sets of boot tracks. It looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him,” Dean got up from the ground, still observing the blood patterns. “It looks like he kept walking.”

“So, what’s the deal?” Sam asked. All of you headed deeper into the warehouse, making sure not to step over the trap to set it off again, afraid one of you might end up with a bullet in you. “Dad would do work here or something?”

”Living the high life, as usual.” Dean remarked.

You shook your head, trailing away from them as curiosity began to get the best of you. What sort of secrets were dangerous enough for John to hide inside this place? You glanced over things that were either hidden in boxes and dusty old things that didn’t spark much of an interest. As you wandered to another set of shelves, your eyes trailed over to something that seemed out of place in a warehouse that was stuffed with supernatural objects and weapons. You reached out a hand to pick up a small dusty looking trophy with a kid playing soccer. With a free finger, you dusted away the years of built up grime to see what was written beneath on the plaque.

“1995.” You mumbled, seeming to see that was the only thing you could read.

“No way!” Sam suddenly shouted. You looked up to see the man was turning around in his spot and heading forward you, grabbing the small trophy from your hand. A grin spread across his lips, seeming to find happy memories from the object. “That’s my division championship soccer trophy. I can’t believe he kept this.”

“It was probably the closest Sam ever came to being a boy.” Dean commented, walking forward to the both of you. A small laugh managed to escape your throat, Sam’s lips stretched into a faint smile from his brother’s smart mouth. You watched from the corner of your eye as the man headed for something else to explore, and when he found something from his own childhood, he seemed just as delighted. You looked over to see that Dean was holding a makeshift looking gun that seemed to have been the real deal. “Oh, wow. It’s my first sawed-off. I made it myself.”

As if you needed anymore proof these brothers were complete opposites of each other at times, this was no exception. You trailed through the warehouse once more with the brothers soon following behind in your direction. Reaching out a hand, you came across a metal door that once was chained off from the world, but someone cut it free, leaving a crack open. You slowly opened the door with caution, but you calmed down once more when you realized there was no traps to be warned of as you headed further into the room. What you stumbled upon was like a hunter’s wet dream; all sort of weapons and bombs were scattered across the workbench and walls.

“Holy crap. Look at this.” Dean said, seeming amazed himself with the arsenal his father had lying around. He headed forward to inspect the collection with a close eye. “He had landmines, which they didn’t take. Or the guns. Guess they knew what they were after, huh?”

You examined the contents for a few more moments before your attention was being drawn away to something else after Sam found something of importance. “Hey, guys, check this out.” He said, nodding his head forward the shelf he was standing next to. All sorts of different wooden boxes were perfectly lined up with secure locks. “See these symbols? He used binding magic. These are cursed boxes.”

“They’re supposed to keep the evil mojo in,” You speculated, glancing over at the collection for a brief moment. “Kind of like pandora’s box. They’re built to contain the power of the cursed object.”

“Dad’s journal did mention a whole bunch of stuff,” Dean said. “You know, dangerous, hexed items, fetishes. He never did say where they ended up.”

“This must be his toxic-waste dump.” Sam muttered. You shrugged your shoulders from the thought, seeming to find your eyes wandering around the room to see what was so important that someone would risk their lives to get. Sam might have found the answer. He reached out a finger when he saw a perfectly clean spot amongst the thick dust, he cleaned a perfect spot away. A sigh escaped his lips when he realized something. “One box is missing. Great.”

“Well,” You mumbled, looking at the empty spot with hope. “Maybe they didn’t open it.”

If whoever was stupid enough to risk getting shot and survive this mess, maybe they were smart enough to keep this box closed. Because whatever was inside, you knew it wasn’t going to have good side effects for whatever came out into this world.

+ + +

It took a bit of digging around the security cameras and hacking into the DMV, but you managed to find out the two idiots that broke in John’s storage unit. You and the brothers pulled up to some crumby looking apartment complex in the heart of town, where the duo had been calling home for the past few years. It wasn’t exactly a homey looking place, but this was the only lead that all of you had going to figure out exactly what they stole. When you dug around a bit further into the unit, John had quite a few valuables that were dangerous if they got into the wrong hands. You just hoped that everyone had managed to get here before it was too late.

Dean stopped the Impala in the middle of an alley when he saw the old model he’d saw from the security cameras come into view. Sticking his head out the window for a moment, he quickly read the lisence plate before sitting back normally in his seat. “Connecticut. Last three digits 8-8-0.” He read off the plates.

“Yep.” You agreed, glancing out the backseat window to take a look. “That it.”

“Should have blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security cameras.” He said, as if he was really trying to give advice on the situation. You shook your head, thankful for this lucky break that seemed to have been in your favor before Dean pulled out to park the Impala.

You and the brothers decided to have used the element of surprise on the robbers on top floor of this apartment building that almost looked like it could fail from a city inspection. All of you were going to barge right in there and take what was yours, or John’s. You headed up the steps with your gun stuffed inside the back of your jeans, deciding to play back up. There might have been two in the video when they robbed the bank, but there could have been another member none of you knew about. Better play it safe than be sorry. You watched as Sam picked the lock of the apartment you pointed out, but peering over your shoulder for a moment when you heard squeaky floorboards echo in your ears. But nobody was there. Brushing it off as nothing, you pulled out your weapon and rested it against your side for a moment, slipping inside the apartment last.

Quietly as you could, you closed the front door behind you as the boys swept through the open rooms before being drawn forward to the voices coming from further down the hall. You headed forward and peered over slightly when you heard two male voices echoing, carrying on some conversation about being good at cards. It wasn’t much of an interesting topic you were willing to listen to. You took the cue of the first voice that spoke about leaving to make it known you were here for a little visit. Nodding your head, you drew up your gun and headed forward with the boys, deciding to make your grand entrance.

“Freeze! Nobody move!”

The men you’d barely recognized from the grainy video footage sat directly in the living room, but jumped up at the sight of three guns being pointed in their vicinity. You watched as the both of them drew their hands up in a surrounding position, but your mind was more focused on what all of you were here for in the first place. You glanced around for a moment, wondering where they could have put it. But you couldn’t detect anything but the filth around here.

“All right. Give us the box” Dean said, drawing your attention back to the men. “And please tell me that you didn’t—”

You glanced down again when you saw an end table just standing right across from the couch. A panicked expression flashed across your face when you saw a familiar black box with strange writing on it crossed your eyesight. “Oh, they did.” You clarified, looking over at the man.

“You opened it?!” Dean nearly shouted at the top of his lungs. That seemed to have set off something in the man; he lunged forward and shoved the man with a buzzcut straight against the wall, pointing the barrel of his gun against his chest. The man tried asking if all of you were cops a few times in a shaky tone, but Dean seemed to have been curious for another question. “What was in the box?” All of you glanced over at the coffee table to see something that looked to have been a furry object sitting next to a glass. It didn’t look dangerous. “Oh, was that it, huh? It was, wasn’t it? Wait, what is that thing?”

But it seemed none of you were going to get the answer from what happened next. Buzzcut shoved Dean off like he was nothing, making him accidentally throw the gun against the floor. You heard a shot go off as it ricochet across the room. It somehow hit the heating system before it bounced off the metal, flying to the barrel of Sam’s gun, making him drop his to the ground from the painful spark. But the bullet managed to shoot directly back up into the air and then drop back down to the lamp, near from where you were standing. You accidentally jumped from the sudden shards of ceramic that went into your direction, making you lose your own gun in the process. You dropped your arms when you realized what had just happened.

Everyone was in a moment of shock from what they had witnessed. You managed to pull yourself back into reality when you saw Dean’s gun lying on the floor, not too far from where Sam was standing. He seemed to have caught on what you were staring at, but he wasn’t the only one. You watched as he tried his hardest to snatch the weapon away when he realized Buzzcut’s partner was eyeing it himself. But things weren’t going well. It seemed the partners knew what was going on when Dean tried attack one and Sam lunged for the gun. Both brothers were knocked into one another when they were shoved backwards, making Dean go crashing into the coffee table and the newly found gun go flying directly back into the air again.

You were standing here for almost all of it, confused at the sudden streak of bad luck. This wasn’t like anyone of you. But when you heard the sound of something metal hitting the ground, not too far from where you were, it quickly brought you back into what was going on. Maybe a little lady luck was finally settling in your favor. You tried to bend down and grab it yourself. As you felt the cold metal brush against your fingertips, you suddenly felt a much larger body tackle itself onto yours. A painful noise escaped you when you were suddenly lying on the wooden floors, someone’s body sitting on your stomach. You tried your hardest to fight off your attacker, but before you could even think about throwing a punch, the man threw one himself right at you.

You could feel the man’s hands wrap around your neck and tightly began squeezing his hardest, ignoring your almost pitiful attempts at trying to fight back. Your arms dropped to your side, wanting to find the gun. As you reached with whatever strength that you had left when your oxygen was beginning out run out quickly. You grabbed something after patting around on the floors, but it wasn’t what you were expecting to find.

Something soft brushed against your fingertips as you pulled it forward into your grip, realizing it was the object on the coffee table. It must have went flying into the air after Dean accidentally fell back into it. When you got it into your grip the man shifted around so he was applying more pressure, but you saw your opportunity. Without thinking more of it, you reached up and kneed him directly in the privates. You watched as his face scrunched up in pain as he let out a howl from the trick you pulled. He jumped up, giving you a chance to free your legs, and push both your feet against his chest, making him stumble backwards into the corner. You managed to get on your feet when you realized you somehow weaseled your way out of that mess.

“Guys,” You said, wrapping your fingers around the object. The brothers were trying to get themselves up from the floor after they suffered their own fight. You managed to lift up your arm slightly to show them what you found. “I got it.”

The words seemed to have died on your lips when you felt something brush the center of your forehead, making you slowly look up in fear of the turn of events. Buzzcut was standing directly in front of you, pointing the barrel of Dean’s gun right against your forehead. “No, you don’t.” You couldn’t help yourself but swallow ever so slightly when his finger against the trigger, giving you all precious moments before you waited for the gun go to off. But it never did. The man winced ever so slightly when he waited for the banging noise. All you heard was the gun clicking, making it known that was the weapon was jammed.

You could see the brothers getting ready to take their cue and take down the man, but it seemed he set himself up for failure. He struggled to get the weapon working again, losing his footing in the process as he accidentally stumbled backward just ever so slightly. You watched as he hit the broken coffee table, making the man fall directly onto the floor. He seemed to have taken hard enough of a fall to render him unconscious for a few moments. Your jaw loosened slightly when you watched all of this unfold as you glanced over at the brothers. It seemed you might have gotten a lucky break this time, but his partner was looking for a little payback for what you’d done.


You heard someone shout your name, making you turn your head to the side, realizing you still had the other man. You saw him holding the gun you dropped from before and aimed at directly at you, but he never could have taken a shot from what happened next. As he tried steadying himself on a shelf that hung from above, it seems to have been his downfall. The books that were sitting soon came crashing down on his head, making the gun go flying back into the air. In fear that it could go off again, you reached out a hand, like you were really going to catch it–and you did.

You were overwhelmed with surprise from the turn of events that had just taken place. Looking back at the men that were knocked out cold on the ground, your eyes trailed back to the brothers, seeing they seemed to have been just as shocked as you were. This was turning out to be a strange, very strange day.

“Well, that was a lucky break.” Dean said, breaking you from your thoughts. You let out a small laugh, knowing there was nothing but truth in his words. “Hey, is that a rabbit’s foot?”

You lifted up your hand to see what you had been holding all along, “I’ll be damned. I think it is.”

+ + +

There’s been superstitions about luck around for ages; if you break a mirror, that’s seven years bad luck. But if you happen to find a four leaf clover, there’s good luck to keep you safe. Then there was the throwing salt over your shoulder if you accidentally spilled the shaker and putting new shoes on the table, all signs of bad luck if you did them. You sat in the backseat of the Impala again, staring at the rabbit’s foot with curiosity. Nothing you remembered about good luck charms came to mind when you thought about this thing. Sam was searching through his father’s journal, looking for some sort of answer that would explain what was going on. You turned your head to the side when you saw Dean come out of the convenience store he so desperately needed to stop by at, a paper bag loose in his grip as he headed forward.

“I’m not finding anything on it in Dad’s journal.” Sam said, glancing up from the book for a moment when he heard the sound of paper crumbling. When he saw his brother pull out almost a dozen lottery tickets, he rolled his eyes. “Dean, come on.”

“What? Y/N’s been a pretty lucky chick today.” Dean said, brushing off the annoyed look you were giving him. Sam couldn’t stop himself but give his brother a disapproving glare. “Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at her head. And my gun don’t jam, so that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out–also a lucky break. Here. Scratch one, Y/N.”

“Dean, no.” You mumbled, eyeing the lottery ticket being waved around in your face.

“Come on, Y/N.” Dean pressured you. “Scratch and win.”

Rolling your eyes, you reached out a free hand and snatched the ticket away before grabbing the penny that you found lying head up on the ground. Also another sign of good luck. Brushing it off, you began scribbling away at the surface of the paper until you saw your prize show. “Look, Dean, it’s got to be cursed somehow.” Sam said. “Otherwise, Dad wouldn’t have locked it up.”

“Sam’s right.” You said, resting your arm against the front seat, waving around the ticket. “Now, what did I win? A big, whopping five bucks?”


Dean snatched it back and brushed away the remaining debris. He took a moment to examine the profit. “Twelve hundred dollars. Y/N, you just won twelve hundred dollars.” He laughed out like a maniac, seeming to think this could have been the best thing that happened to all of you. “I don’t know, Sam. It doesn’t seem that cursed to me.” Before his brother could retaliate, another lottery ticket was shoved in your face with Dean’s eager face awaiting for the result of the rest.

Half a dozen tickets later, you were officially freaked out. You didn’t listen to Dean when he whined for you to just a few more, knowing all of you had some serious cash coming in from your sudden lucky streak. Never had you won more than a few bucks when you played them for innocent fun, but this time, you were seeing numbers that was making even you eager to see where else this luck could lead. But you made yourself call Bobby as Dean oogled at his new collection of money. If you knew anyone that could tell you about what was going on, it would be him. When you told him what you’d done, the man wasn’t exactly pleased.

“Now, look, Bobby, we didn’t know.” You said, hoping that would calm him down.

“You touched it, didn’t you?” Bobby asked. You winced slightly as the obvious answer you gave him. “Damn it, Y/N. I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Well, John never told me or the boys about this thing.” You mumbled, reaching up the rabbit’s foot to examine it a bit further. “Besides, you’re getting off topic You knew about his storage place in Black Rock?”

“His lock up? Yeah, I knew. Hell, I built those curse boxes for him. But listen, you have a serious problem.” Bobby said, but you could feel yourself being drawn out of the conversation for a moment when you saw something peeking out from a discarded newspaper. “That rabbit’s foot ain’t no dime-store notion. It’s real hoodoo–old-world stuff. Made by a baton rouge conjure woman about hundred years ago.” As the man explained, you leaned down and pushed away the paper, revealing a gold watch. You bent to take a further look, seeing that it was the real deal.

With the watch in hand, you turned around to show the brothers what you’d found. “It’s a hell of a luck charm.” You admitted. “Sure nice change of pace from things lately.”

“It’s not a luck charm. It’s a curse” Bobby corrected you. “She made it to kill people, Y/N. See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the devil. But, you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you’re dead inside a week.”

Your eyes flickered to Dean for a moment, wondering if this would count of a supernatural death if the rabbit’s foot just so happened got lost. And you had an accidental run of bad luck. Maybe. “So, I won’t lose it, Bobby.” You mumbled, shoving the foot inside your jacket pocket for safekeeping.

“Everybody loses it!”

“Well,” You snapped back at the man, rolling your eyes. “Then how do we break the curse?”

You heard a soft sigh come from the other line, “I don’t know if you can. Let me look through my library and make some calls. Just sit tight. And stay out of trouble, Y/N.”

You didn’t exactly know if that was going to be a possibility when you closed your phone and headed over to the brothers, getting ready to deliver the news. But it seemed Dean had some more important news to discuss. “Dude, we’re up fifteen grand.” He said, waving around the lottery tickets in the air. You managed to give a small smile, hoping this luck would continue.

Since it was going near the afternoon, the brothers switched the conversation to finding something for lunch. All of you happened to be standing just directly across from a restaurant that seemed like a good enough of a spot to keep quiet for a little while. You trailed behind the brothers, cautious as ever when you slipped inside. Bobby was clear about the bad luck that would follow if you lost the foot. As if it wasn’t obvious enough in your facial expressions, you muttered to them about possibly having a loose hole in your pocket you didn’t know about. Then the foot could go loose, and you’d somehow be dead after tripping on the sidewalk.

“Don’t worry. Bobby will find a way to break it.” Dean said, almost making you think for a moment that he was concerned about your feelings. But his true motives only shined through just seconds later. “Till then, I say we hit Vegas, pull a little ‘Rain Man.’ You can be Rain Man.”

“No. We just lay low until Bobby calls back, okay?” You instructed, not wanting exactly to take the chance of traveling across the country because Dean was feeling adventurous. He had his fifteen grand to keep him company. You turn your attention to the host, giving him a smile, just wanting a normal lunch. “Hi. Uh, table for three, please.”

Of course, that didn’t happen.

“Congratulations!” He shouted making you look at him with a confused expression. But the ringing of bells and sudden huge styrofoam rectangle that looked like one of those checks that people get after winning the lotto was being shoved into your grip wasn’t exactly making you feel happy. A heat began to creep into your cheeks, realizing what was going on. “You are the one millionth guest at the Biggerson’s family restaurant.”

As if that wasn’t enough, you saw two waitresses come out from the back, one holding a camera and the other pushed a button, making it rain balloon and confetti from the ceiling. Barely managing a decent smile, you posed for an obviously awkward photo with the brothers. This really was your lucky day.

+ + +

You scarfed down your free lunch, which happened to have been one of your favorite meals, and it was exactly how you liked it. You were finishing the last few bites as you scrolled through Sam’s computer to do some research while you ate. He had been complaining about you getting crumbs in the keyboard, but it remained spotless. “Bobby’s right. This lore goes way back.” You said, swallowing the last of your food. Shutting the laptop closed, you pushed it back into Sam’s awaiting grip. Dean continued munching away at his melting ice cream, listening half heartedly from what you were saying. “Pure hoodoo. You can’t just cut one off any rabbit. It has to be in a cemetery under a full moon on Friday the thirteenth.”

“I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson’s.” Dean suggested. But soon, the effects of him eating his ice cream too fast caught up with him. You let out a laugh when you saw him press a palm against his forehead from the throbbing pain. Reaching out a finger you took a quick swipe of the glass cup before placing the soft ice cream to your lips, licking it clean.

“Can I freshen you up?”

You turned your head to see a waitress was making her rounds with a coffee pot, tempting you into having another one before hitting the road. You decided that it wouldn’t hurt. As you pushed your cup forward as she began pouring, you looked up at her a moment. She gave you a friendly smile. You swore she looked familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. All though when the both of you realize she accidentally spilled coffee on the table, she began apologizing. You brushed it off as nothing, trying to clean the mess up yourself. Sam gave you a wad of napkins, all before he was pitching in. The waitress turned her gaze for a moment on the man, letting the bot of them share a look before she mopped the mess up with a blue cloth.

You looked the other way, letting a small smirk spread across your lips as you watched the boys from the corner of your eye examine the waitress as she walked away. Sam in particular seemed to have found the most interesting of all. “Dude,” Dean spoke up, making you look over at him from what he said next. “If you were ever gonna get lucky, Y/N’s your only chance.”

“Okay, ew.” You mumbled, a small chuckle coming afterwards. You reach to grab the cup from the table to take a drink. But it seemed you were a bit clumsy in your actions, spilling the scalding hot coffee all over the table and onto your lap, making you jump out of the booth as you nearly yelled out from the burning sensation. But you weren’t paying too much attention, crashing right into a waiter who was carrying all sorts of food, making him go down as the sound of plates break echo through the restaurant. “Oh, God. Sorry. I am so sorry!”

You could feel all sorts of eyes wandering toward you, making you feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment from what you just done. Turning back around to the brothers, you swallowed slightly. “How was that good?” Dean asked, almost to himself. You were about to shrug your shoulders, but the thought hit you. Quickly, you shoved your hands inside your pocket, praying to find the rabbit’s foot–but it was gone when you turned out your inside lining out to show them. “Son of a bitch.”

You followed behind the brothers as they raced out of the restaurant, knowing there was only one person who could have stolen it off of you. All of you headed out to the parking lot, wondering where she could have heade. Dean glanced both ways before he saw something in the distance that looked like her. Nodding his head, the brothers headed with quick pace, you trailed in their path. But as you got yourself to almost jogging, that seemed to have been a bad idea. You took a step off the sidewalk to catch up, which ended you tripping, and falling directly on your face like a klutz.

A throbbing pain began to settle in your palms and your knees, making you realize you’d ripped through your favorite pair of jeans. Sam headed forward, seeming concerned with what happened to you. “Wow. You suck” Dean muttered, only being an onlooker. You gave the man a death glare, trying your hardest get the pebbles out of your skin. “So what, now your luck turns bad?”

You looked down at the manage;you winched to see that you managed to skin both your knees and, like you thought, rip holes in the fabric. You let out a frustrated sigh. “Maybe.” You hissed.

Dean shrugged at your sarcastic answer, making you realize Bobby was right about how quick your luck could turn. “Well. I wonder how bad.” He mumbled to himself.

+ + +

Stay put and be quiet. That was supposed to be the only advice of how to keep yourself alive as you say in the backseat of the Impala with your scraped knees bouncing off the floors as every nerve inside your body was on edge, waiting for some small threat to come and give you another streak of bad luck. Your tumble to the pavement in the restaurant parking lot was just a few mistakes that followed after you lost the rabbit’s foot to some woman who picked it off you like it was nothing. Sam and Dean were running around, trying their hardest to figure out who she was when they traveled around town and figured out who she could be.

The only real lead that all of you had was that she was leading the previous men to do her deal–and one of them who had been in possession of the rabbit’s foot was dead, which made you shift uneasy in your seat. Of course you weren’t going to be a sitting duck when you saw the familiar apartment complex come into view after you tracked down the dead man’s partner to see if he had a few answers that could clear up with the understanding of what was going on. You trailed through the halls with caution, almost looking like a madwoman as you kept close to the brothers, wondering what sort of bad luck was going to creep up next.

When you saw the right apartment number come into view again, all of you quietly trailed inside as you looked to see where the last man could have been hiding out. Dean found him sitting all by his lonesome in the back bedroom, sitting on a chair and reflecting on past memories with an open bottle of liquor. But his face seemed to have been written with shock when he saw you and the boys casually stroll into the room, wanting just a friendly chat between all of you. “Oh, man.” He muttered underneath his breath, dropping his hands to his thighs. “What do you want?”

“Heard about your friend.” Dean started off the conversation, walking forward to the man as you stayed behind where it was safe. You crossed your arms over your chest and tried your hardest to keep your balance after you accidentally lost your footing for a moment. “It’s bad luck.”

“Piss off.” He hissed at all of you.

“We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit’s foot,” Dean said. “A woman.”

The man pretended to be interested in that fact, “Yeah? How do you know that?”

“Because she just stole it back from us.”

You could feel your lips stretch into a frown when you saw the man break into a grin from the bad luck that was happening because of the lack of judgement you had. He burst out into laughter just a moment afterward, seeming to have enjoyed the news a bit too much. “Listen, man, this is—”

That was the only thing you managed to say before you could feel your foot get caught on a piece of loose wire after the other one stepped too hard on it for you to caught yourself. You accidentally tried getting yourself free, which caused the wire of whatever it was connected to come flying off the shelf across the room and into your arms. But that was just the beginning of it all when you finally lost your footing, sending you to crash straight into a table. You fell right onto the floor, your body being cushioned from a broken lampshade and an old radio with its antenna poking you harshly in the side. This newfound clumsiness was really getting on your last nerve.

“Y/N, you okay?”

You cleared your throat, trying your hardest to brush off any sort of embarrassment from what you just did as you managed to swing your arm upward, placing it on the loveseat. “Yeah.” You said, peeking your head upwards to look at the brothers with an annoyed look. “I’m good.”

Sam was trying his hardest to keep whatever amusement he was finding from your terrible luck into sympathy as he tried to switch his smile off. Dean, on the other hand, only rolled his eyes from the sudden burden you’ve become to them. You gave him a look before you were trying to push yourself into a standing position again, ignoring the constant ache that was settling from today’s misadventures.

When it seemed you were in one piece, Dean brought his attention back to the man. He took a few steps forward, giving him a command. “I want you to tell us her name.” He ordered.

The man leaned a bit of his seat, an arrogant smile spreading across his lips from what he said next. “Screw you, buddy.”

“It wasn’t a freak accident that killed your partner.” Dean said. It seemed the little fact had the made the man curious to know more as you saw his face scrunch up as he muttered out a what quickly afterward. “It was the rabbit’s foot.”

“You’re crazy, man.” The man scoffed out.

“You know I’m not. You know what happened, what it did–all the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot, that luck goes sour.

what killed your friend.” Dean explained, only making the man curious to see what else was to come out of this situation. He was listening closely now as his eyes trailed over to you for a moment. “And my friend here is next, and who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don’t help us, stop this thing, then that puts those deaths on your head. Now, I can read people.” Oh, God. You couldn’t help yourself but roll your eyes, knowing the man always liked to be a tad dramatic at times. “And I get it. You’re a thief and a scumbag. That’s fine. But you’re not a killer, are you?”

+ + +

Somehow, it worked. You and the brothers left the apartment complex with at least a name after leaving the man to finally mourn over his friend’s death. As you exited the door and stepped out to the nighttime air, you were still picking off shards of cheap ceramics out of your clothes and parts of your hair, throwing them to the pavement. You heard Dean’s cellphone go off as he stepped off the sidewalk with his brother following behind, you were the last one. As your shoe touched the pavement, you flinched at the sound of something squishing against the bottom sole.

You took a step backwards and lifted up your foot to see the damage; a thin trail of bubble gum broke off from the pavement as you saw most of the residue stuck to your shoe. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a pitiful sigh and throw your head backwards in defeat. Dean looked to you for a moment, giving you a strange look from the noise as he continued on a conversation with Bobby, not seeming be shocked about your dilemma anymore. Sam motioned his head over to the drain, thinking that you could easily scrape it off and leaving this problem alone.

“Bobby, listen, listen. This hot chick stole it off Y/N. I’m serious.” Dean said, trying to explain the situation to the man as you hobbled over to the storm drain. As you began scraping away, you listened every so often to the conversation. “In her mid-twenties, and she was sharp, you know? Good enough of a con to play us. And she only gave the guys she hired a name–probably an alias or something. Luigi or something.”

You looked away from your shoes when you realized the gum was almost gone. “Lugosi.” Sam corrected his brother, his voice almost annoyed from how much the man butchered the name. But you were too focused on getting this gum off your shoe, knowing you were so close. A few more times of scraping and it would be just one thing you could beat because of this stupid curse. You were almost there–but the sudden splash coming from down below was the final straw.

“Are you freaking kidding me?!” You were almost screaming on the top of your lungs, fists clenching in frustration. “This is the worst day of my freaking life. Screw this.”

Dean quickly wrapped up the conversation with Bobby before he was turning around, wondering what had gotten you so worked up. When he saw you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest and almost pouting like a child, he looked over at his brother for answers. “She lost her shoe.” He said. The tone of his voice was exactly how you felt, all though you could sense his sarcasm from how sullen he sounded.

“Shoes are expensive. And those were—”

“Your favorite pair. We know.”

You tossed the brothers a dirty glare from how they could talk in sync without realizing it, and somehow, this was getting on your nerves that were stretching thin as it was. Rolling your eyes once more, you began hobbling away to the car, hoping there was a way out of this before it ended just as the same for the other people that had possessed it before. Sure, you were willing to die for this job, but not in some stupid and cheap way. This Bela chick was going down.

+ + +

An hour of driving back from the apartment complex, you saw a motel come into view. You had been sitting in the backseat with at least new jeans and shoes after you forced the brothers into letting you at least change. Nothing bad followed afterwards and it at least made you feel a bit better about something good happening here. Dean was back on the phone with Bobby, seeming to have found some information on the woman that was in charge of this entire scam. Bela Talbot was her real name. It almost seemed familiar to you, but there wasn’t anything coming to mind.

“All right, Bobby, thanks. Hey, we owe you–another one.” Dean said, pulling up the Impala to the front desk of the motel, before putting the car into a parked position as he wrapped up another conversation with the man who’d been searching high and low. From trying to find information on this woman and a way to break the curse, you really were putting yourself into this man’s debt at how much he was doing for you. “Okay. Bobby’s got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick lives in Queens. So it will take me about two hours to get there.”

“So, what are we doing here then?” Sam asked, peeking his head around.

“You, my brother, are staying here to play babysitter to Y/N.” Dean explained. You let out a scoff and rolled your eyes, not exactly finding this plan all too amusing. But he had some truth to what he was saying. You were a casualty they couldn’t quite juggle with everything going on. “Because I don’t want her bad luck getting us killed.”

One room was booked for the night, giving Dean enough time to swing by the city to see where this woman was hiding out and steal back the foot so all of you could destroy it. You followed behind the brothers yet again as you headed for the motel room. The lights were flicked on by Dean as he opened up the door, letting you inside first as you looked around at the room. There were almost a million different things that could kill you. But that didn’t seem to be much on your mind right now, only wanting to clean your wounds and take a much desired nap. Dean directed you away from the bed, almost thinking that you could somehow die in your sleep.

“What am I supposed to do, Dean?” You asked, your voice was annoyed.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Now come here.” He said. Wrapping a hand around your arm, he dragged you to the small table that was sitting across the room. He pulled out a chair and made you sit almost exactly still, giving his mind at least some ease. “I don’t want you doing anything. I want you to sit here and don’t move, okay? Don’t turn on the light. Don’t turn off the light. Sam, don’t even let her scratch her nose.”

Just from the thought, you could feel your nose beginning to tickle, urging to you helplessly scratch at it for a bit. You tried to let it go away on its own, but it only intensified. Leaning out of your seat slightly, you watched as the front door slammed shut and Sam turned his back for a moment to grab the remote. When nobody was looking, you quickly reached up a hand and gave into the feeling, all before you dropped it back down to your side when Sam glanced over at you, wondering what you were up to now.

+ + +

An hour felt like an entire lifetime; you sat back in your seat, twiddling your thumbs as you tried filling the quiet air. Neither you or Sam were willing to risk touching anything after he tried turning on the TV, which lead to it bursting out into all sorts of sparks after the wiring got cut short. There went your only source of entertainment. You closed your eyes, almost hoping that you could sleep from this awkward position, but the familiar sound echoing through the room caused you to quickly snap back into reality. The both of you looked over at the air conditioner; crackles and odd noises were coming out from the machine as it began to slowly die down. But you knew it wasn’t a good sign when you saw puffs of smoke coming out. Shaking your head, you ran a hand down your face from the added stress.

Sam hesitantly got himself up from the bed to investigate the mess. As he took slowly steps to the wall, you heard another handful sounds of crackling before the smoke began to grow thicker, and just a moment later, a small fire caught inside the machine. Trying your hardest to be helpful, you got up from the chair and snatched the bedsheets from the bed and handing them over to Sam before the entire room caught fire. He hesitantly grabbed the sheets and bent down. He tried his hardest to put out the flames by beating down the fire, it took a few times, but you watched as this mess was quickly put to bed. One thing was taken care of. You leaned yourself against the wall, letting out a quiet sigh of relief to calm your nerves.

“Oh, God—Y/N!” Sam’s sudden panicked voice wasn’t a good sign. “Your shirt!”

Glancing down, you let out an almost terrified nose when you saw that your sleeve was on fire, probably from standing next too close to the machine. Sam tried his hardest to calm you down by grabbing the curtains from the window after he accidentally dropped the bedsheets to the floor. You were swatting away at the fire with your other arm. In the midst of the chaos, both of you managed to get that fire out, but it didn’t end very well. You somehow managed to crash into Sam, sending him backwards to the floor and you tumbling to the windowsill. All you remembered before crashing the back of your skull against the wall was wrapping yourself into the hideous curtains, which didn’t smell all that great.

+ + +

You had to admit, this was a new one for you. Never in your entire lifetime had you managed to get yourself knocked out because of accidentally bashing your head against something. Normally someone liked to do that before tying you up. Of course, when you managed to get yourself fully back into a conscious state that’s exactly what happened. You could hear the sounds of duct tape being let loose from its roll as your arms being pressed together to your sides. Sam was still here with you as he was sitting right across from you, in the exact same position. Turning your gaze away from him, you focused your attention back on an older man that was finishing the last touches of your bonds. You really, really hated this day.

“Oh, she’s awake. Back with us, eh?” The man was older, probably late fifties. From how him and his partner were dressed, they weren’t thieves trying to rob you and Sam. You wondered more if they were either some kind of crazy killers looking for some fun, or worse, they were hunters wanting some revenge on what you both did. Of course, there was something he decided to poke fun at, which made you twitch from embarrassment. “We didn’t even have to touch you two. You just went all spastic and knock yourselves out. It was like watching Jerry Lewis trying to stack chairs.”

“Who are you two?” You asked the men. “What do you wan—”

But you were cut off when the oldest man snapped his fingers at you, like he suddenly got an idea that had been bugging him all day. You gave him a glare from the rude behavior. “I used to think your friend Gordon sent me.” He began. But the familiar name of an old hunter made you quietly groan in annoyance. That man, even from goddamn prison, was still making your and Sam’s lives a living nightmare. “Because he asked me to track you two down and put a bullet in your brain.”

“Great.” Sam muttered, seeming just annoyed as you were. “That sounds like him.”

“But as it turns out,” The man continued on, roaming around the room as his index finger wagged around. You watched as he paced from one side of the motel to the other. What he said next made you realize this was man was nothing short of insane. “I’m on a mission from God.”

You opened your mouth to make a smart remark, like you always found yourself in this sort of situation, it was in your nature. But before you could let anything come out, the man wasn’t playing around when you could feel the back of his hand collide with your cheek, giving you one of many bruises that were about to come from the interrogation that would follow.

All though you weren’t a stranger to beating and pain, both of these men had more experience, with one seeming to have been harboring some serious feelings. He wasn’t afraid to get rough with you as he went a few rounds with Sam, trying to draw any sort of information he could about the opening of the gates. But neither one of you were giving him what he wanted to hear.

“You two were a part of that demon plan to open that gate, weren’t you?” The man asked, for what felt to have been the tenth time.

“Last time I checked, we did everything we could to stop it.” You answered, your tone was becoming shorter with frustration.

You watched as he got up from the motel bed he’d been sitting on for the past few minutes, giving you and Sam at least a generous moment to gather yourselves before someone else wanted to take another round. You flinched slightly when he walked over to you, leaning down slightly as his finger waved itself in the air, making you clench your jaw in anger. “Lies, lies, lies.” He repeated himself. “You were in on it. You know what their next move is, too, don’t you?”

“No, we don’t, okay? You’re wrong about all of this.” Sam said, trying to clear everything up.

“Where are they gonna hit us next? Where?” The man questioned Sam. When there was a lack of an answer he wanted to hear, the man proved his impatience yet again as he reached out his arm and smacked Sam right across the face, adding another bruise to his collection. “Gordon told me about you, Sam, about your powers. You’re some kind of weirdo psychic freak.”

“No, not anymore.” Sam tried to explain. “I have no powers, no visions—nothing. It’s just—”

Sam was trying his hardest to make it clear that he was normal again, but it wasn’t what the man wanted to hear. He reached up a hand to smack the younger man right across the face again making you clench your jaw in anger. You tried your hardest to somehow loosen this duct tape, but it almost seemed like it was getting tighter around your body with each slow twist and turn. Of course this bad luck wasn’t going to make an escape easy. Besides, what were you going to do if you got free? These men were trained probably longer than you or Sam combined. And the loaded pistol tucked in the back of the man, who thought he was on a mission from God, didn’t seem to be afraid of using lethal force. You and the youngest Winchester were screwed.

“Now no more lies.” The man had focused his attention away from Sam for a moment and on to you. His finger waved around in the air, acting like he was disciplining a small child that kept repeating the same story over and over again. You gave him a cold glare. “There’s an army of demons out there, pushing at a world already on the brink. We’re on deck for the endgame here, right? So maybe, just maybe you two can understand why we can’t take chances.”

You were wondering for a split second what he meant by that, but his words seemed clear as day when you watched as he brought his back to the back of his jeans and pulled out the pistol. When you heard the safety click off and the barrel being positioned at your head, this wasn’t going to end well unless you tried to get through to this hunter. “Whoa! Okay, okay.” Sam quickly said, trying his hardest to make the man calm down. “Now, hold on a minute.”

“Kubrick, what are you–” The man’s partner finally spoke up, seeming to think himself that this was going way too far. You let out a small sigh of relief when you saw the man named Kubrick turn around, his hand with the gun dropped to his side with his finger off the trigger.

“No! You saw what happened, Creedy. Ask yourself–why are we here? Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another?” Kubrick questioned his partner, listing off a list of things that were because of this stupid curse. But it seemed he was seeing this from another perspective. “Luck like that doesn’t just happen.”

“Look, I can explain all of that.” You said, trying to make the man listen.

“Shut up.” Kubrick hissed at you, pointing a finger up. You rolled your eyes and turned your gaze somewhere else for a moment. “It’s God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason–to do his work. This is destiny.”

With that speech out into the air, Kubrick continued on with his work as you saw the gun back into the air, the barrel pointing directly at you forehead. Your fingernails dug into the cushion of the seat as you closed your eyes, waiting to hear the bang before everything went black. “No. Not destiny.” Wait, you knew that voice. You opened your eyes again to see someone finally coming back from their trip. Dean was standing across the room, his own gun pointed at Kenrick. “Just a rabbit’s foot.”

“Put the gun down, son. Or you’re gonna be scraping brains off the wall.” Kubrick threatened.

“Oh, this thing? Okay. But, you see, there’s something about me that you don’t know.” Dean said, giving in the man’s command as he slowly put his gun to the table he was standing right next to. You wondered what he was going to, this wasn’t like him to just surrender so easily. But it was all making sense when he grabbed the pen from the table, and what he said next, too. The idiot touched the rabbit’s foot, giving him a heavy advantage out of the two other hunters.

“Yeah?” Kubrick sarcastically asked, turning around to the man. “What’s that?”

“It’s my lucky day.” Dean announced. You watched as he swung the pen from the table and into the air, somehow making itself get lodged into the barrel of the gun. Your eyebrows arched up in surprise, not expecting for that to happen. He seemed to have been shocked himself as he broke out into a grin. “Oh, my God! Did you see that shot?!” Creedy tried to lunge forward at the man, but all Dean had to do was step out of the way before the man went crashing right into the wall, falling to the floor after knocking himself unconscious. “I’m amazing.”

Kubrick didn’t seem to have found any of this amusing like Dean did. He managed to get the pen unstuck, throwing it to the ground before he was pointing at the other man. But Dean used his new found luck to grab the TV remote and throw it across the room, hitting Kubrick right against the forehead, and went down his body like a dead fly. You and Sam stared in astonishment of what just happened, almost wondering of how this was even possible.

Dean stood there with his arm still outstretched as his lips spread into a smirk, “I’m Batman.”

“Yeah.” You said, your voice coming off as sarcastic. “You’re Batman.”

“And you’re…” Dean trailed off, you shook your head in disagreement when you knew what this man was trying to make you say. It had been an old joke between the both of you when you were kids that sometimes came up when you were teens for fun. It might have been cute then, but you weren’t in the mood right now. “Come on, Y/N. Say it and I’ll cut you guys free.”

“Bite me, Winchester. I can get myself out. Who needs your help.” You muttered underneath your breath. You tried your hardest to squeeze yourself out of the duct tape again, hoping that somehow you could break free. But you didn’t seem to notice with each struggle that you forced yourself though, you were slowly leaning backwards in your seat. Before you could break free, you were finally tilting backwards, roughly landing on the ground with a painful thud. You heard footsteps coming forward until you saw Dean coming into your vision. An arrogant smirk spread across his lips as he pulled out his knife, swinging the blade clean open. “Fine. You’re Batman…and I’m your trusty sidekick, Bat girl. Now get me free, asshole!”

+ + +

You sort of could feel yourself letting out a sigh of relief when you discovered that Dean managed to steal back the rabbit’s foot from Bela, but he wouldn’t let you touch the damn thing again. Since there was a way out of this curse you and him were stuck under, Sam worked his own magic and found exactly what you needed to free yourselves. Part of the way to make the rabbit’s foot, it was also how you were going to get everything back to normal and stopping anyone from being apart of this mess ever again.

You and the brothers traveled to a cemetery not far into town to conduct the final parts of the ritual. Dean seemed to have been a bit more distracted with his sudden streak of luck as he continued scratching away at instant tickets he had picked up earlier in the day. You were sitting on a tombstone of someone who had passed away in the early seventies, shaking your head from how greedy he was using this luck for his own advantage.

“All right.” Sam was crouched on the ground, putting all the herbs and spices needed to conduct the ritual over the small fire. Since you hadn’t had good fortune around everything, you chose to stick him with the process. “Bone as, cayenne pepper. That should do it.”

“One second.” Dean muttered, scratching his fingernail against his tenth ticket.

You shook your head again, “Come on, Dean—”

“Hey, back off, jink. I’m bringing home the bacon.” He said, cutting you off mid sentence. You raised your eyebrows, seeming to test his luck today from how fresh he was with you. Dean smiled at his winnings before heading over to his jacket that was lying on a tombstone, tucking away his winnings before grabbing the foot. You watched as he proceeded to head over to you and Sam, swinging the foot in the air. “All right. Say goodbye to ‘wascawy wabbit.’”

You were about to roll your eyes from his terrible impression, but your head quickly turned when you heard the sound of a gun cocking, and it was coming from across the field. It seemed you finally met Bella in person; she stood there with her hands wrapped around a gun, her lips stretched into a smirk. You could feel yourself straighten up when you realized who she was when you saw her up close and personal. But it seemed she didn’t recognize you at all. Her focus was set too much on the foot.

“I think you’ll find that belongs to me.” She said, wanting to get her profit of whatever deal she’d been working on. “Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey.”

“No. You’re not gonna shoot anybody.” Dean said, dropping his hand to his side. You let out a small sigh, knowing where this conversation was leading toward. He was going to try and get deep with this woman. But from the look in her eye, nothing like a simple speech was going to change her mind. “See, I happen to be able to read people. Okay, you’re a thief. Fine. But you’re not gonna—”

Just as the words left his lips, Bella seemed to be feeling a bit trigger happy. Before you realized what was going on, you could feel the worst sensation hit your arm—worse than breaking a bone, but almost similar to being stabbed. You landed on the grass after you were blown backwards from the sudden gunshot to your shoulder. It took a moment from the shock that settled in and the ringing from the loud noise to make you figure out what was going on. The woman shot you.

“Son of a bitch! Like my day hasn’t been bad enough!” You screamed at her, forcing yourself to work through the pain as Sam helped you up from the ground. He forced your free hand to put pressure on the wound, hoping that would stop the bleeding momentarily. “Thanks for making it so much better.”

“Sorry. But it’s part of the business, Y/N. Do anything you need to survive. Ella sure taught me that.” Bela said. You pressed harder on the wound when she mentioned your mother. Dean tried to make a move on her, but she wasn’t slow on what he was trying to do. “Back off, tiger. You make one more move, and I’ll pull the trigger. Try me. You’ve got the luck, Dean. You I can’t hit. But your little friend—her I can’t miss.”

Dean glanced over at you and Sam to see that you were trying your hardest to keep the blood from seeping anymore from your wound. But small trails began to trickle out from your hand, knowing it looked nasty as it felt for you. "The hell is wrong with you?!” Dean sapped at the woman, turning his gaze back to her. “You just don’t go around shooting people like that!”

“Relax. It’s just a shoulder hit. I can aim. Besides, who here hasn’t shot a few people?” Bella asked, seeming to think the conversation was nothing more than something causal between you four. You narrowed your eyes at her. This wasn’t the woman you remembered all those years ago. All though, you had to admit, she was more confident, less squeamish. And knew exactly what she wanted out of life. “Put the rabbit’s foot on the ground now.”

“All right! All right. Take it easy.” Dean said, seeming to play into what the woman wanted. You watched as he slowly surrendered, bending down as his hands shot up in the air. Bela kept a close eye on him, still pointing the gun. As it almost seemed that everything was going according to plan, that’s when he made his move on her. “Think fast!” Without much hesitation, he threw the foot at the woman, making her catch with a free hand, succumbing to the curse herself. Bella let out a few colorful words in frustration, knowing there was no way out of this. “Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?”

Knowing there wasn’t much of a choice in the matter, Bela rolled her eyes in annoyance from the turn of events. Tucking her gun away, she headed over and stepped near the fire to complete the ritual. You watched as the foot was let go of her hand and dropped into the fire, letting the flames slowly burn. "Thanks very much. I’m out one and half million and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer.”

“Wow.” You said in a sarcastic tone. Pressing harder against your wound, most of the bleeding had stopped by now, thanks to the clean cloth someone gave you. “I don’t really feel bad about that. You know, even someone like you could understand after you shot me in the shoulder.”

“It’s water under the bridge, Y/N. You know it’s not nice to hold grudges.” Bela said, seeming to know this was her cue to leave. You rolled your eyes from her comments as she brushed past the tombstone where Dean’s coat was. She turned around, her focus on Dean for a moment. “Maybe next time I’ll hang you out to dry.”

“Oh, don’t go away angry. Just go away.” He said, seeming to have had enough of her.

Bella’s lips stretched into a smile from that comment coming from the man. “Have a nice night, boys. See you around, Y/N.” She said, getting ready to make her final appearance to the three of you. This time, weren’t going to miss her when she was gone, and hopefully, for good.

+ + +

You could feel yourself breathing a bit easier when you saw the rabbit’s foot was officially burned to ash and dust, breaking this curse once and for all. All though things might have gotten back to normal for you and the brothers, there was still the matters of taking care of the effects because of the foot. Never in your entire life had you felt more in pain from the bruises spread across your face and knees, all the way to the worst one of them all, the bullet wound. You just wanted to forget about this day and get this thing out of you. But you had been through it all; broken bones, stabbed, beaten by at least a handful of psychos, choked too many times to count—and now you had gotten shot. Another thing to check off the list thanks to the hunting lifestyle.

“You good?” Dean asked, seeming to notice that you were still clutching your shoulder.

“Once you get this bullet out of me, sure.” You mumbled, lifting your hand up for just a moment to see the bleeding had finally clotted down and you could see the small wound. “But I’ll live.”

“I guess we’re back to normal now, huh? No good luck. No bad luck.” Dean said, seeming to get himself lost in thought for a moment before another one stuck him. He quickly stopped in his tracks, remembering the streak he’d been on for this entire day. Reaching a hand for his pocket, a grin spread across his lips. “Oh, I almost forgot. We’re at forty six thousand dollars. I forgot about the…scratch tickets.” His face suddenly dropped into pure panic when he realized they weren’t there anymore. You closed your eyes in pure anger before the distant sounds of a horn honking echoed in the distance. Bela stuck again. “Son of a bitch!”

+ + +

“How the hell did you manage this?”

You sat on the edge of the motel bed with at least two, once perfectly starched white, damp hand towels in your lap from the mixture of water and your blood staining the fabric. After you and the brothers had successfully destroyed the foot, and being out almost fifty thousand dollars, the best way to wrap up the night was to lick your wounds clean and thank that one of you didn’t end up dead. You’d been dreading the moment of getting this bullet out of your body. The last time someone had gotten shot was Dean, and even that wasn’t a fun adventure when you were the one who had to dig deep into the wound to see where it lodged itself inside his shoulder. But it seemed you might have found yourself dealing with another fate.

Cranking your neck over your good shoulder, you examine everything in the tall dresser mirror that sat behind you. Your shirt sleeve was ripped all the way upwards to make room for cleaning and getting rid of any blood that had dried by now. The wound was cleaned up enough for you to see faded bruises from your tumble backwards to the cold ground after you stumbled backwards because of your sudden clumsiness. But it was the little hole in the middle of the bruises that caught your attention, it look similar to the one where you’d been shot. Your eyebrows furrowed as your fingers softly brushed against the wound, flinching from the sudden contact. The bullet somehow had been a through and through, leaving you with just a hole and no other damage.

“Okay. Let’s not make matters worse.” Dean said, snatching your wrist and placing it back down to your lap. He reached over to grab the small bottle of peroxide and another towel. As his eyes glanced around to the other side of the room to see that his brother was on the phone with Bobby, still trying to explain what happened between all of you. You flinched again when you saw the soaked towel come inches away from your wound, knowing the sensation was always the worst part of it all. “Hey, we don’t want this to get infected. It’ll just be a second.”

Nodding your head, you winced a bit as Dean pressed the cloth against the wound, wiping away any more blood that could have been lingering around. You watched as he tried to clean away without putting too much pressure, it took a minute before he threw the towel on the other side of the bed, putting it with the rest. You could let out a soft sigh of relief as Dean topped off the wound with fresh bandages on your each side of your wound before announcing he was finally done. You shifted your shoulder around slightly, all though you could feel a bit of soreness, the painkillers that you took had finally kicked in. Now that you were all patched up, you could feel yourself beginning to relax for the first time in this past few days. No bad luck. No good luck. And you were okay with that.

“Nice job.” You said, looking at the mirror to see that your shoulder was wrapped up with gauze and medical tape on each side. All through your shirt was ripped to pieces and beyond repair, you didn’t care. You just kept thinking about taking a nice, long shower and crawling into bed for the night. “Now I can cross this off my bucket list of things accomplished as a hunter.”

Dean rolled his eyes from your remark as he pushed himself off the bed. He began to clean up the mess of bloody towels and bandage wrappers, obviously wanting to wrap up the night himself. As he glanced over at you for a moment, something had been curiously buzzing around in his mind since leaving the cemetery. “Hey, I was wondering,” Dean said, starting another conversation topic. You gave him a curious look. “That Bela chick. She acted like you two knew each other from before. Care to explain. Y/N?”

You thought about it for a moment, debating with yourself as Sam was wrapping up the conversation with Bobby before hitting the end button on his phone. Bela was different from the last time that you saw her—but that was years ago. You thought this was just a one time deal, someone you’d never see again. With a shake of your head, you said your final goodbyes to the brothers before you were out the front door, heading down the pavement sidewalk and back to your own motel room for the night. Maybe if you saw her again, you’d tell the brothers.

+ + +

Nine Years Ago:

You walked the normal path from the school bus spot and down the street to your house, saying goodbye to all of your friends as you parted ways through the neighborhood. It was Friday, just a few weeks until school was going to end, and while most of the teachers were lenient on most students, you’d had the same amount of tedious school work that called your name. But you didn’t mind, Fridays always meant that you could call it quits earlier than usual. You and your mother had a tradition every Friday night involving your favorite takeout and a classic movie she’d picked out to watch together. This one in particular was a special one, she said it had been one of your father’s favorites. You thought since she’d brought up the subject, and probably with a few stories following of him during the movie, you could ask her a few things about him.

Turning your gaze away from the sidewalk, you caught sight of your classmate heading to her front door only to be greeted by her mother who’d been working in the garden. And as if on cue, you saw a car pull into the driveway, her father had come home early. You smiled and politely waved at the family of three when they caught you staring, which caused her mother to break out into a grin and her father to stop and say hello. You watched as your classmate smiled slightly, but the blush creeping across her cheeks had been known well enough that she was embarrassed from how friendly they were. Everyone in the neighborhood always had been the type to stop and say hello. But you knew the traditional family that plagued this place; a chirpy housewife, a businessman husband and one or two children. Besides the boy who moved in next door with his grandparents, you stuck out like a sore thumb.

You moved into the neighborhood when you were four years old, where it wasn’t exactly normal to see a single mother with a child, and no husband to make the money. You remembered the curious stares and questions of where your father was when the both of you moved in, wondering when he was going to join you two. Of course, you would awkwardly blurt out that he was dead, which caused your mother to look more deviated from embarrassment than having to hear about her husband’s sudden departure all over again. Housewives would tilt up their noses, husbands would list off eligible bachelors that would hopefully put a ring back on her finger. But your mother declined with a happy smile, knowing her only focus she needed was you.

All though your mother had juggled to be both parents, she’d succeeded by keeping a roof over your head and raising you into the woman that everyone gushed over. You loved her with all of your heart, but you were curious, wondering what it would have been like to have a father figure around, or even to have another sibling to grow up together with. You’d tried to ask your mother for memories of your father, hoping that would be enough. But even the mention of his name sent her into a state of grief, quickly changing the subject to something else before you could have another chance.

You headed up the familiar route to your home, passing by the freshly mowed grass and garden that was blooming with flowers your mother planted just a few weeks ago. As you headed inside the front door, you noticed that there was distant talking coming from the dining room. Thinking that it was one of her friends that were stopping over for a visit, you cut through the kitchen to see evidence of food and a couple boxes of open sweets. You dropped your books to the counter and threw your backpack to the floor, knowing you were going to get yelled at it soon enough. You stepped into the next room to see someone you weren’t expecting.

The person sitting at the head of the table wasn’t some middle aged teacher, it was a teenage a girl that looked to be just about a year younger than you. She was wearing your old clothes that your mother mentioned about donating to charity a few week ago, but they’d been sitting in the hall closet, collecting dust. You could see her eyes glance away from the wall of photos and on to you when she noticed your sudden presence. But when you reached down a hand to grab a cookie from the plate that was next to her, you could see her almost automatically flinch. Your eyebrows furrowed as you slowly retracted your hand away.

“Y/N, you’re home early.” Your mother noted, heading into the room with her hands full of different things. Her tone of voice seemed oddly chipper. You nodded your head, swallowing the bite of cookie as your eyes trailed down to the girl, wondering who she was. Your mother dropped the belongings to the table before heading over to the stranger. Reaching out a hand, you watched as she softly placed it on the girl’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, I want you to meet my daughter. Bela, this is Y/N. And Y/N, I want you to meet Bela Talbot. She’ll be staying with us for a little while.”

Chapter Text

Hunters and their guns, you thought to yourself. You and the brothers had been crashing at Bobby’s for a little over a week now, giving the man some extra help at trying to find out the secrets about this colt. While Dean kept himself busy with helping Bobby out with rebuilding the gun from scratch, Sam had been scouring the internet for whatever information he could find on the thing. Most of your own attention was split between finding a new interesting case and where the demon activity would pop up next. This morning you found something that matched all the signs you were looking for in a sleepy town not that far from here. You’d been itching to get yourself back on the road again and direct focus back on the demon activity that all of you caused in the first place.

You headed for the other side of the house with a few papers in your grasp, everything from a few strange articles that caught your attention and weather patterns which followed what you were looking for. You saw Bobby and Dean were working hard as always, sitting across the room, almost not noticing your presence. Sam was standing next to the counter where you headed, he turned his head and gave you a smile, happy to see you broken away from research. It’s really the only thing they’ve been allowing you to do since getting injured on the last hunt. The bruises and most of the pain had subsided. But of course, someone was worried that you could hurt yourself even more if you went back on a hunt too soon.

“Hey, I might have found some omens in Ohio.” You said, turning around in your spot until you were leaning against the countertop. Waving the papers around, you only managed to catch Sam’s attention as he grabbed the printouts from your hands to inspect more. “Dry lightning. Barometric-pressure drop. All that good stuff.”

“Well, that seems thrilling.” Dean said, never taking his eyes off his work, but managed to be ever so sarcastic from your findings.

You followed behind Sam as he headed into the other room the papers in hand for his brother to inspect. “Oh, did I forget to mention? I just read an article about some guy blew his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the police had to take him out.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest as Dean glanced up at you. “Might be demonic omens.”

“Or just a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker.” Dean remarked, you rolled your eyes.

“But it’s our best lead since Lincoln.” Sam pointed out, seeming to be on your side about this.

“Where in Ohio?”

“Elizabethville.” You said. “From what I read, it’s a half-dead factory town in the rust belt.”

Dean’s face scrunched up in annoyance when he pictured the scenery in his mind, “There’s got to be a demon or two in South Beach.”

“Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time.” You joked, cracking the smallest smile before your attention settled on the other man sitting at the work table. Bobby had been concentrating all morning, stripping the gun down to its almost skeletal state with all sorts of parts spread around the table. “How’s it going, Bobby?”

He glanced up for a moment, giving you a blank expression. “Slow.”

“I tell you,” Dean admitted, “It’s a little sad seeing the colt like that.”

“The only thing it’s good for now is what makes it tick.” Bobby said, pushing down on the hammer of the gun as you heard the gun lock into place.

Sam, being the only who always didn’t have the best time for questions, decided to ask one. “So what makes it tick?” All he got for an answer was a glare from Bobby, knowing that was what all of you had been hoping to find out. But nothing was making this gun out to be more than just any other firearm you’ve all worked with.

“So if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio,” Dean said, getting up from his chair as he pointed over at the colt. “You think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?”

You licked your lips to keep a smile from spreading across your lips when you watched Bobby glance up from the gun. The brothers had been pushing the man’s buttons, which only seemed to have made what he said next even a bit more amusing. “Well, it won’t kill demons by then,” Bobby said as he pointed the naked barrel at Dean with his finger on the trigger, “But I can promise you it’ll kill you.”

“All right, boys.” You said, tugging the sleeves of the brothers’ shirts before nodding your head, giving Dean a split second to grab his leather jacket. “Come on, we’re wasting the daylight. See you around, Bobby.”

The three of you headed for the front door, only managing to step right into the doorway of the room before Bobby was calling out, bringing your attention back to him. You turned around in your spot, wondering what the man wanted to say before all of you departed. “You kids run into anything–anything–you call me.” He offered with his tone being nothing short of serious. You nodded your head before heading behind the brothers for another long trip ahead of all of you. No matter what, you had to admit, having someone like Bobby around always made things a bit easier on your mind for whatever all of you were about to face out there.

+ + +

Elizabethville was almost like any other town you’d visited during your hunting days with the brothers. Most of the travel was back roads of farms, seeing the occasional herd of cows, before all of you were seeing the quiet town you’d seen in pictures during your research. It seemed like any other town people would flock to for raising a family in little victorian houses and going to church on Sundays. Not a place for someone to blow their brains out in the pews and another one to go straight up homicidal. Maybe Dean was right about this place. Perhaps there were a few black sheep in the flock that were sick of playing pretend. Or, just maybe, you had a few demons out there they wanted to shake up this sleepy town.

The first place that called your attention was the church where you read about the married man who’d stepped onto the balcony of the church and pulled the trigger in front of a nun and a priest. You and the brothers were dressed in your typical outfits of suits, and for you, a black skirt you’d enjoyed wearing on a sunny day like this. Playing certain parts for hunts always had its perks. The priest that had witnessed everything agreed to speak with you three, going over the details again of that gruesome day.

“There’s not much left for the insurance company.” Father Gil said, seeming to wonder why even more insurance agents were poking their nose around again. You followed the man in sync, listening to what he had to say. “It was a suicide. I saw it myself.”

"Well,” You spoke up, weaving your fingers together before letting them drop to your stomach as all of you continued down the narrow aisles between the church pews. “Then this shouldn’t take long.”

You heard Father Gil take in a deep breath as he stopped in a particular spot. His gaze turned away from the three of you before going toward the balcony. “That’s where Andy did it.” The man admitted, finally setting his eyes away from the sight as you all looked over. From what you’d seen of the crime scene photos, it almost seemed like the horror never happened. “It’d been the first time I’d seen him in weeks. He used to come every sunday.”

“When did he stop?” Sam asked, looking back over at the man.

“Probably about two months ago—right around the time everything else started changing. Let’s just say this used to be a town you could be proud of. People, well, cared for each other.” Father Gil admitted. Your eyebrow tweaked upwards at that fact. It was right around the time you and the boys opened the gates and brought terror to towns like this. “Andy sang in the choir, and then just one day, he just wasn’t Andy anymore. It was like he was…”

“Possessed?” You finished the man’s thought, giving him a curious look.

Father Gil lingered his gaze over to you, “You could say that. Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes.” He nodded his head before he put his attention to the balcony for a moment. “Like a switch had flipped.”

“Father, did you know the man who killed those folks in the hobby shop?” Sam wondered.

“Sure, Tony Perkins.” Father Gil said. You mumbled the man’s name which had been kept out of the papers for the personal safety of his family. But it seemed that no matter how much covering up someone was going to do, word travels fast in a small town like this. “Good man.”

“Would you say that his personality suddenly changed, too?” You asked the priest, hoping there was a connection in all of these deaths. One of the main things when you know someone is possessed is mood changes, dangerous behavior. The timing was right, and there was enough evidence to back everything up. You wondered if they’d been lured to their own demise from a second party.

Father Gil kept quiet for a moment or two before he was nodding his head. “I never thought about it that way, but…yes. About the same time as Andy—about two months ago.”

You licked your lips and directed your gaze to the brothers, beginning to speculate this was the real deal. Sam seemed to have been on board with his gaze that shifted around from learning all of this new information. You watched as Dean jotted down a few things inside the small notebook he’d been carrying around before speaking up. “Well, thank you, Father. We appreciate your time.” He said, giving the man a nod of the head and a polite smile. With that out in the air, Father Giles headed back to his business of running the church, leaving the three of you alone.

Looking over your shoulder for a brief moment, Father Gil was almost halfway across the church when Sam spoke up, making you look over at him to hear what he had to say. “Two months ago, we opened up the devil’s gate,” He mumbled as all of you walked to the exit, making sure to keep his voice low. “All of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville?”

You let out a sigh, “I told you, guys. This isn’t a coincidence.”

+ + +

Knowing this town was now officially under your inspection, you and the brothers decided to ditch the formal clothes and head to the local motel. You were standing in the parking lot with your body almost halfway into the trunk of the Impala, trying your hardest to reach the bag you shoved during the quick pack up of your belongs. Finally after a petty struggle, you managed to snatch the handle of the bag and drag it forward until you were getting ready to swing it over your shoulder. But you didn’t seem to remember when shoulder was still wounded when you let out a sharp wince of pain after the sudden pressure, making you drop the bag to the pavement in defeat. Just as you were about to bend down and grab it, someone else was doing the deed for you.

“Hey, hey. I got it.” Dean said. You gave him a frustrated look when he placed the strap over his free shoulder, the other was carrying a heavy looking duffel bag. “Can’t have you hurting yourself even more, Y/N.”

“I’m fine.” You grumbled, moving around your shoulder as the pain slowly subsided. “I just used my wrong shoulder, that’s all.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean mumbled, obviously seeming to want to play the part of the gentleman today. He nodded his head for the motel, handing off your room key. “Quit your whining and let’s go.”

You playfully rolled your eyes before you and Dean were heading into the motel, Sam having a head start between the both of you. As you trailed through the halls, you watched as the numbers trailed off to the one you were staying in that was right next to the brothers. Shoving the key inside the lock, you stepped inside the room and flicked on the lights. You glanced around the interior of the room, kicking off your heels in the process. It almost seemed like this room was like any of the many others you’d stayed in, but the chuckle that escaped Dean had you looking over at him, wondering what he was finding so funny. When you caught him staring up the ceiling, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You glanced up to see what he was examining, a sigh of annoyance escaped your lips from the discovery.

For the duration of the hunt, you would be sleeping underneath a mirror. You rolled your eyes in annoyance from the terrible decor of this place as you glanced over at the bed in disgust. When you looked over at Dean, he was giving you an amused look as he wiggled his eyebrows. Part of you wanted to switch rooms, but you had a feeling this place wasn’t exactly what it used to be.

“Get out.” You mumbled, reaching up a hand to pinch the bridge of your nose.

Dean let out another chuckle before dropping your bag to the floor and headed for the door like you wanted. But as he managed to step in the hall, you saw him stop before he was staring at a familiar face you couldn’t see. You curiously headed over, peeking out to see what was going on. It seemed that your neighbor across the hall was some man that seemed to have got dressed in the dark from his sweat suit and odd shade of pale blue fedora. He glanced around the halls, not seeming to notice you and Dean were staring right at him. As he pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket, you were beginning to suspect he was some sort of dealer. But you were plenty wrong.

“Richie.” Dean called out, getting the man’s attention so he could get a better look of his face. You could hear his voice change when he realized it was the person Dean thought it was. He glanced over at you with a smile growing on his lips. “I don’t believe it.”

“Hey. Dean…Winchester, right?” Richie asked, beginning to remember who the other man was. A second passed between both of the hunters before you could see Richie’s eyes linger over to you, he was beginning to wonder who you were as you stood next to Dean’s side. The ends of his lips stretched into a smile, the kind that you’d seen millions of times on Dean when he saw a woman he’d liked. "And who is this?”

“Richie, this is Y/N. You both met over the phone that one time.“ Dean introduced the both of you as his hand slipped to press itself against your backside for a moment. You gave the fellow hunter a polite smile as you put out your arm for the man to shake. But it seemed he was feeling a bit more friendly when he gently took a hold of your hand, and like the man you were beginning to suspect he was, gently lifted up your arm as he pressed his lips against it for a moment. You let out a small laugh, tugging back your arm as Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, come on. You’re making me gag.”

“What? It’s not everyday I meet the famous Y/N.” Richie said. Your raise your eyebrows up in curiously as Dean seemed to have fidget around in his spot. Richie turned to look at you with a smirk spreading across his lips. “And may I say, you’re much more prettier than he lead on.”

“Is that so?” You asked, glancing over at Dean to see the slightest amount of pink creeping to his cheeks. A small laugh escaped you, but you quickly brushed it off as a cough. You turned your head to see that Sam was standing in the doorway of his own motel room as he loosened his tie, wondering what was going on. As you opened your mouth to introduce them, your gaze slowly lingered when you saw a woman step out of Ritchie’s room. “And who is this?”

Richie’s face dropped into a sort of bashful look when he realized what was going on. “Uh, this is my sister, Cheryl,” He introduced the woman who’s been several inches taller and looked nothing like him. You watched as he handed her the wad of cash, which lead her to slipping the money inside of her halter top for safe keeping before she went on her way. All three of you looked at him, knowing he’d been busy with other things. A crooked smile spread across his lips. “Well, step sister.”

"Come on in.” Dean said, walking out of your motel room and into his own. You and Richie followed behind as he met his gaze with Sam, the two men shared a nod of acknowledgement as you slipped passed them. “You finally my annoying hunter partner, now meet another. This is my brother, Sam.”

“How do you all know each other?” Sam curiously asked, closing the door.

“I think you were still in school.” You said, heading over to one of the beds to take a seat. “It was when I was forced to do all the research. Learned a lot, though.”

“It was that succubus, right?” Richie asked. Both men seemed to have agreed, sharing nods. From what Richie said next, you rolled your eyes. “You should have seen the rack on this broad. Freaking tragedy when I had to ganch her.”

“Whoa, whoa. Wait. Who killed her?” Dean wondered, untucking his dress shirt before he began rolling up his sleeves. “If I remember, your ass was toast until I showed up.”

“Actually,“ You spoke up, leaning forward in your spot on the bed. You gave the men a smirk, deciding to play along with their little game. "Didn’t you two have no idea of how to kill the damn thing? Someone called me up at three in the morning, dragged my ass out of bed to research. By the way, you’re welcome for that.”

“And what a pleasure it was, Y/N.” Richie complemented, sending you a playful wink before directing his attention over to Dean for his previous comments. “I forgot what a comedian this guy was. Don’t know how you can stand him.”

“I told you then. I’ll tell you again.” Dean said, watching as Richie pulled out his ringing cell phone. All though the remark seemed serious, you could tell from his tone of voice was full of sarcasm shared between them before. “You’re not cut out for this job. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

Richie looked at the man directly in the eye as he pressed his phone to his ear to answer the call, “FYI Winchester–words hurt.” He mumbled, before putting his attention back on whoever was speaking. “No, it’s not a good time, baby. Later.”

The phone call lasted a few moments after that as the brothers began to finish getting ready unpacking as Richie took a seat on the couch, a shade of brown that didn’t seem all too pleasing. “So, you find anything in this town, anyway?” Dean asked, starting another conversation that was the reason all of you were here in the first place.

“Uh, no. I got nothing.” Richie said, shoving his hands inside his pockets. “Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons, and whatnot? No, I got nothing.”

"Typical.” Dean sarcastically mumbled. “What about your sister back there?”

“Honestly, she definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn’t no demon, you know what I’m saying?” Richie asked, making you look at him a bit strange as Dean stopped himself as he tried loosening his tie. Richie’s face loosened slightly, seeming to find his joke was a fail. “Right. Seriously. Church guy, hobby-shop guy–they were lunch meat by the time I got there. Maybe they were possessed, but I can’t prove it.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “That’s where we are, too.”

“Let’s say demons are possessing people in this town. You know, raising hell.” You said. “That’s what I would expect. But I can’t understand why they would blow his brains out.”

“For fun?” Richie guessed. You and the boys gave him a curious look, wondering where he was going with this theory. “He wrecks one body, moves to another. Like taking a stolen car for a joyride.”

“Anybody else that fits the profile–nice guy turned douche that’s still breathing?” Dean asked. You turned your head to see that he was now examining something beside the nightstand. An annoyed glare sketched itself across your face when you realized it was a coin machine for a feature for the bed to vibrate. Dean ignored your looks as he dropped in a quarter.

“There’s Trotter. He used to be head of the rotary club. Then he turned bastard all of a sudden.” Richie explained, making you wonder if he was the man you all were looking for as the head of all this sudden chaos. “Brought in the gambling, the hookers. He practically owns this whole town.”

“Know where we could find him?” You ask the other hunter.

“He’ll be at his bar in a few hours.” Richie answered.

“Well,” You said, pushing yourself up from the bed and headed for the door. When you stopped in front of it, you looked over at the man from across the room. “Richie, it’s been quite a pleasure to meet you. But if you don’t mind, I got to get ready for a night on the town. Later, boys.”

+ + +

The nightlife of this town was beginning to change how you were seeing things; bodies were crawling all over the place, entering one bar while some exited with company on their arms. Your eyebrows furrowed when you saw how men were openly enjoying bottles of booze as women were roaming the streets, eyeing someone for their next target. What Richie had said before about this place being overloaded with gambling and prostitutes, he sure wasn’t exaggerating. It looked like all of you stepped onto a street in the heart of Vegas. These people sure know how to go from God fearing citizens to almost breaking every law and sin there was out there. Maybe it wasn’t a demon that wasn’t causing all of this mess. Maybe people just wanted to stop pretending.

You opened your mouth to make a remark, but as you cranked your head to the side, Dean was nowhere to be found. Sam stopped for a moment when you grabbed him by his shirt sleeve, asking where his brother wandered off too. He shrugged his shoulders and began searching around the crowded streets. Being taller than most people here had its advantages when you watched his face drop with annoyance and a finger pointing backward. You looked over your shoulder, following where he was gesturing to. Of course, Sam spotted his brother standing next to an open car, talking to someone inside. You rolled your eyes. Dean was probably having a field day here, enjoying everything and everyone around him.

“I’ll take care of it.” You said to Sam, your voice almost shouting so he could hear you. Sam nodded and began heading for the bar as you began heading to his brother. While Dean was eyeing at a woman that was tempting him from the comfort of her car, you quickly wrapped your hand around his arm. “Come on, boy. We’ve got work to do.”

The both of you meet back up with Sam at the entrance of the bar, where you saw the place was packed with another herd of partiers with bartenders that were enjoying the rush of business with drinks flying everywhere. You accidentally bumped into a few people, which none of them acknowledged your apologies, you rolled your eyes from the rude behavior as you followed behind the boys. All of you wandered through a crowd that was thinning out as you headed for the bar. While you glanced around the room, your eyes trailed over to a familiar man that was speaking to a pretty brunette. Your lips stretched into a smile when Richie looked away from the woman and saw you and the boys, he threw a smile and excused himself before heading over.

“Oh, Richie. Look at you.” You complimented with your lips stretching farther to grin. You didn’t know what made him think of wearing an oddly pale orange button down shirt was appropriate, but he sure pulled it off with confidence. “You sure know how to make the ladies swoon.”

“And I must say, you clean up excellent, Y/N.” Richie said, making you playfully roll your eyes from how terrible cheesy he was being. Never in a million years would you give Richie the time of day if you met him somewhere else. But it was harmless fun, and to admit it, you were enjoying this little game of compliments. “And you like this? Thai silk—canal street. You have to play three hundred dollars for threads like these, easy. Cost to me—forget about it.”

Sam shook his head and smiled at the fellow hunter’s words, “How much is ‘forget about it’?”

“Ah, forget about it.” Richie said, shrugging his shoulders before pointing at something across the bar. You followed his trail until you saw an older man standing at a secluded area of the bar, seeming to eye all of the customers before you looked back at Richie. “That’s Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can’t touch him.”

“So, what do we do know?” You ask, glancing around more at the group of people. “I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but I could go for a drink. This place is making me freaking thirsty.”

“I’ll get it.” Two different voices said, almost parroting each other. You look back at Dean and Richie, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion from what just happened. Both of them are staring at you, Richie with a half grin and Dean’s waving around a twenty, ready to jump into the night life. All though all of you were working a case, he was always in the mood to have at least one.

“Nah, man. It’s my treat. The least I could do. And besides,” Richie says. He takes a step forward to you and lifts up his arm before resting it across your shoulders. “I want to steal Y/N away for a while and pick her brain. You told me how amazing she is, I want to see if it’s all true.”

Dean shoves the money back into his leather jacket pocket, and for a split second, you swear you see his jaw tighten for the slightest second before he rolls back his shoulders. He cranks his head toward the bar and sets his eyes on a bartender who’s waiting on a few customers and mixing drinks. “Fine. I’m gonna do a little investigating with that bartender.”

“Easy.” Richie says. “We got a little somethin’-something’ lined up for later.”

You look over at the man with an amused expression from what was going on, “Am I just a ploy to make her jealous?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. What kind of man would I be?” Richie asks, pretending to be hurt from your comment. You let out a small laugh before the both of you head to the other side of the bar, leaving the brothers to wander to the woman. You tell Richie your drink of poison through the background chatter and lean yourself against the bartop, watching as the bartender whips up the order in just a matter of seconds. Grabbing the cold glass from the man, you reach a hand inside your pocket to at least tip, but Richie hands over a folded up bill. “I told you, my treat.”

You mumble a thank you before you bring the drink to your lips, taking a sip, enjoying the small rush that washes through your body. The both of you wander away to a quieter part of the bar, making small talk, and without realizing it, you let yourself enjoy the time with Richie. You told him a bit about your relationship with the brothers, how you all knew each other since birth. You tell him you were just a researcher for the Winchesters, but just a few years ago, you were on the road, slowly learning the ropes of how to become a hunter.

Richie comes across as a goofball womanizer, but when you managed to get past all of that, he actually made pretty good company. You laugh a bit at his corny jokes and listen to his previous hunting gigs before the both of you stumble onto another topic you weren’t expecting to head toward. Even though Richie and Dean spent about a week together on that hunt, it seemed the Winchester and him had bonded quite well. He even admits about about a few things that you never heard Dean say before, which is making your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Perhaps it was like finding out your competitive partner had looked at you with the same respect and never addressed until now. In a way, Dean looks up to you for some things.

“Seriously, he would not shut up about how smart and terrific you were.” Richie says, rolling his eyes from the past stories. You let out a small laugh, clenching your teeth in between the straw as you smile again. “Dean told me that he’d be lost without someone like you.”

Your smile falters for a moment, the words hitting something sour inside of you. It was almost like you were dragging yourself back to the demon deal with the question of who’s going to stay here with Sam, while the other one gets dragged down to Hell. You know Dean would do anything for you or Sam, proving it with the deal. The thought of him only having less than a year makes your stomach twist. You don’t know why that thought crossed your mind. Shaking your head, you focus your attention back to Richie, who’s looking more guilty than confused from what he’d just said.

“Sorry.” You said, shaking your head for a brief moment. “Lost myself in thought.”

“Am I boring you that much?” Richie jokes, making you break out into another smile. He leans back in his seat, examining something for a moment before he points a finger at you. “There’s another thing that Dean admitted. He told me about how you moved away when you all were kids but were magically reunited back in your teens. He said there was something about you that never changed from when you were a kid. I think it was about how your smile never changed—always could light up a room.”

“Yeah, sure.” You mumble with a small scoff from that comment. Bringing the drink to your lips again, you take a sip before setting it down on the table besides you to. “Dean’s known me since I came out of my mother’s womb. It’s just the connection we share. Same goes for Sam.”

“All I’m gonna say is this—those boys are lucky bastards for a woman like you, Y/N.” Richie says, swinging around his empty drink. You smile again and mumble a thank you. He takes one last sip of his drink before standing up and looks over at the clock. “While I enjoyed our time together, nature’s calling. I got to hit the head. Release the hostages.”

You roll your eyes from his obvious hints and glance over at the boys, who have been spending most of the time talking to the bartender. While Dean seems to have been enjoying himself, you focus your attention on her for a moment longer. Most of time you don’t see anything wrong with people, they’re just strangers on the street. But you have a feeling, the kind of nagging that makes you worry she’s hiding something from everyone. There’s a look in her eye as she glances away from Dean and to Richie when she remembers the two of them have a little date tonight. A little twinkle sparkles when she spots him. But it’s not the excitement for what’s ahead, more like she’s caught a prey, and she can’t wait to play with him.

"Hey, Richie,” You say, stopping the man for a moment. “Be safe out there, okay?”

Richie gives you an almost confused look from your concern, “Always am, darlin.’”

You give him a small smile before you watch him disappear into the crowd, where he heads to the bathroom and back out on the streets again, getting ready for another fun night. You finish the rest of your drink and leave the empty cup on the table for someone to clean up. As you get up from your seat, you begin heading forward to the bar, passing by a man that accidentally bump shoulders with you. He actually stops, mumbling a sorry. You shake your head and give him a smile, telling him it was nothing. The both of you leave the conversation at that, going back to your destinations. As you’re halfway across the room, the sudden BANG makes you stop dead in your tracks when you realize it came not that far from where you just were standing.

+ + +

It seemed another strike of violence had came down again. You shifted around in the barstool with your hands wriggling around in your lap. It was strange to think that you were just a few feet away from someone getting seriously hurt. A local man, the one you bumped into, had stumbled into the bar seeking revenge. The brothers managed to jump into the fight before anyone else could have gotten shot, thinking it was another attempt at a demon wanting to raise a little hell. Come to find out, the guy was pissed off and heartbroken because his wife had cheated on him. He tracked down her lover and shot him point blank in the chest, letting him bleed out on the dirty floor.

“Poor jerk.” Dean commented, watching as the man was hauled off in cuffs. “Only thing possessing him was a sixer of pabst.”

“So, what’s the deal, then?” Sam asked. “Are people in this town getting possessed or not?”

“I don’t know.” Dean admitted. “Maybe it is just what it is—a town full of scumbags.”

You and Sam shrugged your shoulders, not sure what else you could come up with. The only lead you’d had going was a total flop. But your attention shifted when you saw an officer coming forward, his facial expressions seeming serious. “You boys ready for your mug shots?” He asked the brothers. They froze in the spot, all before they saw the officer crack a toothy grin to show he was joking. “The photographer’s gonna be here in a few and take your picture for the local paper.”

“It would be an honor, officer.” Dean chuckled out. “What a thrill.”

The three of you gave the men matching smiles, watching as he walked across the room, leaving you alone. Sam jumped out of his seat, knowing it was time to cut this party short. “Yep, time to go.” He mumbled, not seeming to be able to get out here fast enough.

You were following in Sam’s footsteps, getting ready to run out here fast as you could, but Dean stopped the both of you. “Wait a second. Wait a second. Where’s Richie?” He asked. You glanced around, wondering where the man could have ended up. When you settled your sight on the bar, you saw that the woman he was talking about wasn’t around, either. You glanced back over at Dean when you could feel a bad thought sitting in the back of your mind, but you never spoke of it.

+ + +

It’s been almost a full day since you or Dean heard from Richie. Everyone had settled back at the bar wondering if the bartender, which you learned her name was Casey after you began asking small questions to the bartender. After events from before, it seemed that almost everyone strayed away from this place, but there were a few souls that were brave enough to stick around. Sam was at the bar, grabbing another round of drinks and Dean punched in the other hunter’s number again, all before letting out a frustrated sigh when he heard the familiar voicemail come from the other line.

"You do realize there’s red meat within striking distance, right?” Sam’s voice almost catches you off guard. You see him come into the corner of your eye before he settles himself at the end of the table. He passes around the drinks but they leave unnoticed from Dean, like his brother’s previous comment. But you glance around the room, eyeing the few waitresses before looking at the man sitting to your right.

“How many times I got to tell Richie he’s gonna get himself in trouble?” He mumbled to himself.

“Dean,” You say, catching the man’s pessimistic attitude. “You’re assuming he’s missing. Him and I talked for a while last night. And you know about his little date. Maybe he just bailed after that.”

“He’s a moron.” Dean said, dropping his arm to the table, tossing his cell phone with a quiet thud out of his grip. “He’s a sweet moron, but he’s not a coward. He wouldn’t just bail. I got to find him.”

“Meanwhile, I think I’m gonna trail this Trotter guy.” Sam said, deciding to head another direction on this hunt. You give him a curious look, wondering where he had gotten this sudden urge to dig deeper on the man. “There’s something about the way he looked at me last night. Maybe there is something going on here.”

+ + +

Sam was taking one lead, you and Dean were taking the other. You spent the rest of the afternoon trying your hardest to figure out what was going on. It was almost hard to pinpoint someone and their whereabouts, interviewing people would take too long and you didn’t have the patience to track down where this Casey woman lived hoping Richie was hiding out there. You decided to use his cell phone, wondering if that could have somehow worked. It took a bit of research until you had found exactly what you were looking for. His location wasn’t far, just about twenty minutes out of town. You dug a bit deeper on the property to find out that the land belonged to a woman named to that interesting bartender, Casey.

If this woman was somehow a part of the reason why Richie was missing, it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek around. Luckily most of the property was privately owned, giving you all at least a mile or so away from wandering eyes. You and Dean pulled up in the late afternoon after you watched Casey head off to her shift at the bar. Breaking into her place was the easy part, it was finding out what the hell was happening was going to be harder. You inside her place first, deciding to take the bottom level before working your way up. Dean settles on the first floor and heads somewhere as your attention becomes drawn to the basement, itching to see what she had hidden.

You dug your hand inside your pants pocket and pull out your flashlight, noticing the place is rather dimly lit. As you begin traveling down the flight of stairs, your eyes trail over the strange sort of design of the place. The walls are rotten looking, but when you touch them, you feel the cold stone brush against your fingertips. As you make your way further down the staircase, it almost seems like you’ve stepped into a different style of home from the decor. You see there’s a large carpet on the ground, dirty and dusty from being down here, but it seems too vintage and fated to be from this time. There’s candles that seemed to have been burnt recently from the dried wax melted over. You wouldn’t expect this to be a place to bring a lover, but whatever.

Your eyes trail over the small treasures that cluttered over the shelves as you continued your search around the place. As your flashlight pickups the dust, you see a powder that stands out from the dusty gray. Reaching out a finger, you wipe the yellow dust and bring it under your nose, taking a small sniff. It takes a moment before it hits you, the smell of sulfur wracks your senses.

Panic wires up your body as you began scanning the room, trying your hardest to stop yourself from thinking of the worse case scenario. You nervously swallow when you see a small closet across the room, screaming for your attention. You try to control your thoughts as you slowly walk forward. Maybe Richie was one step ahead of all of you. Maybe he exorcised the demon out of her, skipped town to celebrate. You hold your breath and reach out your hand, twisting the door handle slowly as you could. The hinges sqqqquueeek, echoing through the air before it gets overtaken by a loud thud that hits the concrete floor.

“Dean!” You shout on the top of your lungs, stumbling backwards at what laid at your feet. Richie was lying on his stomach, his head twisted in almost a painful position as he stared at you with those eyes. You make out the broken bones and swelling over the wounds. His neck was broken, and it seemed from the way it was positioned, no ordinary human could have done this with just their bare hands. “Dean, come here!”

+ + +

It was clear to know that Richie had knew what he was doing, but didn’t exactly execute his plan well enough. After discovering his dead body, it only seemed fair enough for the hunter to be put to rest like deserved. Night had fallen when you both got back from the motel. Your clothes were filthy after the small funeral. Sam was still out on his own adventures, yet to check in. As you headed for your own motel, you saw Dean make a beeline for his own room with a familiar look in his eye. He was upset about Richie dying on the job, but he wasn’t thinking straight. You tried mentioning a plan before, but he shot it down, saying something about needing to do this own his own.

“Dean,” You say, breaking the man from his concentration of trying to unlock his door. You watch as he glances over at you, his gaze seems to soften slightly when he sees you smile slightly. “I know you’re upset, but you need to breathe. We’ll get this demon, okay?”

But he doesn’t respond; he opens up his motel door and slips inside before slamming it shut.

+ + +

A few hours passed between your last encounter with Dean. You kept yourself busy by changing out of your dirty clothes and into new ones, all while brushing up on your handiwork of how to draw devil’s traps. You spent most of your time doodling on the motel stationary with an open book of everything demons you kept hidden in your bags. A loan you were borrowing from Bobby, and it seemed to be getting useful. You let out a quiet sigh as you let the pen drop out of your hands and roll on the desk. You watched as the pen trailed down, all the way, until it hit Richie’s keys. Dean found his car stashed in the woods. Neither one of you knew what do with it, so you decided to bring it back here until you figured out a proper plan.

You glanced over at the clock to see that it was almost ten. If you had remembered correctly, you still had another two hours before Casey would get back from her job. And you had a feeling that’s where Dean would end up. If she was the demon all of you were looking for, it was clear enough nobody should do this alone. Before you could doubt yourself, you snatched the keys from the table and the book, heading out the motel door.

+ + +

You stood in the basement of Casey’s house again with a thin layer of sweat covering your body. Who knew rolling up and moving a dusty carpet across the room would have been such hard work. But you stood with your hands on your hips, eyeing the masterpiece of your own devil’s trap that is now painted on the floor. Even though it was covered up again, you knew everything was correct, all down to the last symbol you worked tediously on for the past hour.

The sudden slamming of doors and shuffling of feet make you break from your concentration. You realize she’s home, and sooner than you hoped. But everything is in its place. You find your hiding spot when you hear footsteps approaching with voices echoing through the room. One is female, and the other is male. You don’t seem to notice her guest is before curiosity is getting the best of you. As you hear the lighter pair of footsteps walk away, you take your chance to see what’s going on. You peek out from your hiding spot, seeing Casey across the room with her back turned to you and her guest. The man seems almost nonchalant with everything of what’s going on, his hands were inside his pocket as he examined the place. You see his profile from the side and you can hear an almost too loud sigh come out, striking his attention. Dean turns around to see you out of your hiding spot, his gaze hardening with a protective glare when he realized you dragged yourself into this mess. He wanted to do this alone, but you weren’t going to let him.

Casey still seems to be unaware of what’s going on as you sneak forward, ignoring Dean’s whispered questions. You nod your head to the rug, mouthing the words 'devil’s trap’ before deciding it was time to get everything started. "Do you have room for one more? Two’s a party, but I think three is a lot safer.” You call out, making the demon turnaround from the unfamiliar voice. You gave her a smile. “I’m Y/N. And guess what? Richie was a friend of ours. You see, when I realized I could track the GPS in his cell phone, we swung by earlier. And I found him.”

“We gave him a proper burial. It’s better than rotting in some skank’s basement.” Dean said. His voice was cold and hard when he spoke to the demon. Casey stood on her spot in the carpet her fingers curling into fists from the remarks. And in a blink of an eye, she was lunging at Dean, all before being knocked over from the force of trap. She fell to the floor with a heavy thud as a frustrated scowl escaped her. Dean shook his head and he crouched down, flipping over the rug to see your own handiwork that was keeping her in place. “Isn’t that a buzz kill? Sorry sister, but you’re going back to where you came from.”

Dean got up from the floor and trailed back over to you. He opened up his jacket and pulled out a small leather book, familiar to the ones you’d seen before during exorcisms. As he spotted the passage he was looking for, the familiar words began to come through. But things didn’t exactly work out like they normally do. You were used to screams, shouts and threats of painful deaths from demons as they were ripped out from their host’s boy. Casey stood there with her eyes closed and a smirk on her lips. Before you realized it, there was a sudden gust of wind, making your hair fly into your face and the pages of the old book flow through the air, all before it was ripped from Dean’s grip, and across to the wall, being pinned to place.

You opened your mouth to ask him what’s going on, but it’s the crumbling of rock that sends you silent in fear. Quickly, you shield yourself from the debris as the walls to the staircase begin crumbling from a sudden force. You hear things breaking and the air is filling up from the rumble. It lasts for about half a minute before the place becomes eerily silent. When you finally let the smoke clear, you drop your hands to your side to see that the staircase is no longer existent. You and Dean are trapped in the damn basement.

“What are you laughing at, bitch?” Dean remarks when he sees Casey’s smug attitude. “You’re still trapped.”

“So are you two,” She says, her smirk growing. “Bitch.”

+ + +

You could see the lighter that Dean fetched from his coat pocket burst an orange hue after he flicked it a few times, striking up a flame. You grabbed one of the many burnt out candles from the shelf and leaned the wick over the small fire before the flame caught on. Everything that could see in the dim light of candles that hovered above and the one you were hoping wasn’t too much to figure out the damage of the sudden backlash from the trapped demon. But you were certain that if you and Dean could find the missing pages of the book in the rumble. You just hoped Sam was fast enough at connecting the dots before it was too late for either one of you, just in case the demon had someone else looking out for her.

“Lose something?” Casey curiously asked, her eyes were watching each of you scurried around in the dark with the candles as your only source of light.

You looked over your shoulder to see that she was looming over the white line of the devil’s trap, her lips stretched into an amused smile as she saw the both of you trying to piece together the loose ends. “My patience, for one.” You mumbled underneath your breath. Dean Let out a forced chuckle. “Do all you demons have such smart mouths?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “It’s a gift.”

“Well, let’s see if you’re smiling when I send your ass back down to Hell.” Dean threatened the demon after he called it quits on the search. Almost all of the pages were across the floor, and even if you did manage to find some, who knows if they were exactly the ones you were looking for. Neither you or Dean had the ritual memorized like Sam. But it seemed Dean was confident enough he could do it by himself and without something to guide him through.

“Without your little exorcism book?” Casey wondered with amusement hidden in her voice. “Hey, go ahead.”

Dean straightened out his shoulders, starting off strong by repeating the first two words of the ritual. You were feeling a bit more eat east all before he slowly drifted off into thought, wondering what came next. You crossed your arms over your chest as you let out a small sigh, he didn’t remember anything more than those two words.

“Having a little trouble there, sport?” You asked him. Dean tossed you dirty look, knowing very well you weren’t helping much. But you let him try one more time, and even though he’d gotten farther, it wasn’t exactly the proper translation you faintly remembered. You took Latin in your high school days, and though most of it slipped your mind, what Dean had said seemed loosely familiar from what you were taught. “I think—Did you just order a pizza in Latin?”

“He did. I guess he should have paid more attention in Latin class.” Another remark came from the demon, she stared at the both of you with the utmost amusement. From your own comments and Dean’s fail, you were giving her a show that was too good to not indulge in.

“I don’t know why you’re smiling about.” Dean said. He pointed a finger down at the trap, knowing it was the only thing that was keeping her in place. “You’re not going anywhere.”

The demon’s lips grew into a wider smile from his relatation. She watched as Dean wandered away and began trying to find any sort of window small opening that was big enough for either one of you to slip through and get help. But from what you were seeing yourself, nothing seemed safe enough to risk. “And, apparently, neither are you two.” She said.

“Yeah, but I got somebody coming for us, and,” Dean remarked, his voice echoing off the stone walls as he looked over his shoulders with a confident expression stretching across his face. “He did pay attention in Latin class.”

“Oh, right—Sam. Everyone says he’s the brains of the Winchester outfit.” The demon said. “But I have to admit, Y/N, you’ve got them both out numbered in a lot of things. At least, that’s what demons like to speculate from time to time.”

Dean let out a small scoff, trying to continue his search for an escape, but his curiosity seemed to have got the best of him. You, seeming to be letting yourself slip into a conversation with the woman, cautiously stepped near the trap and gave her a curious look. “Everyone?” You asked with interest, hoping it didn’t sound too much.

“Sure. You and those Winchesters are famous.” The demon said. Her lips curled into a slight smirk from her comment that slipped out from what she said next. “Not Lohan famous, but you know. Good publicity is better than none.”

You rolled your eyes from her comments that seemed to have been endless as you glanced over at the entrance door. You wondered how long, or dangerous, it would be if you started trying to work your way through the rumble. As you began to take baby steps to test out your theory, Dean lashed out with a remark of his own, seeming to passively threat the demon. “Well, that’s flattering.” He said, cranking his head over his shoulder to look at Casey. “I’ll be sure to let Sam know when he gets here.”

“If she shows up first. What, you thought I was flying solo, too? You shouldn’t underestimate. It might be the death of you, Dean.” She said, finally giving you both the news you’d been dreading. You stopped wandering around for a moment as you looked over at her, disbelief becoming sketched in your facial expressions. “You two can give me hard eyes all you want, but the fact remains, we just have to wait and see who shows up first–the cavalry or the indians.”

+ + +

You leaned yourself against the cold stone walls of the basement, finally making yourself admitting that you were beaten by this damn demon. You pushed around a few things until you were sitting down on a barrel, relieving the ache that was beginning to grow in your legs from the constant standing you were putting yourself through. Even though you didn’t know how long you were going to be stuck inside this place with unwanted company, the only thing you were going to let yourself think was that Sam was going to find you both. He was a smart man, he knew something was wrong and he could help you both finish the mess that was started. That was, if Sam could come fast enough before his oldest brother managed to break his neck from the stupid stunt he was trying to pull just for cell service.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Dean push around a barrel of his own against the wall, managing to find an open window that allowed some fresh air into this place. You’d tried a few times yourself to see if there was a chance you could get some sort of signal, but finally after the fifth time, you’d given up. But it seemed Dean was trying his hardest to find some as she managed to steady the wooden barrel and step up on it. He opened his phone and pulled out his arm to the window, searching for anything that would allow him to reach his brother.

Casey was sitting on the ground herself, seeming to have gotten sick of standing herself. “Why don’t you relax?” She suggested to the man, trying to be at least civil enough between you two.

“Why don’t you kiss my ass?” He remarked with a grunt, leaning farther for something.

You cranked your head up to see that he was still struggling to find something, but you knew he was losing his patience with each passing moment. “Why, Dean, you’re a poet.” You said, pushing his buttons even more. He looked down at you, giving you a glare. You gave him a stern look as you eyed the ground. “Get down before you hurt yourself. Look, as much as you want to believe, we don’t have any effect on the outcome of this. It’s better for all of us just to remain calm.”

“Y/N’s right. We might as well be civil.” The demon suggested.

Dean stopped himself for a moment after he struggled to take down the iron bars of the windows. He leaned himself against the ledge of the window, eyeing the demon with curiosity from what she’d said. “Civil, huh?” He asked. “Killing Ritchie–that was civil? The guy was harmless.”

“That knife he pulled on me didn’t look so harmless.” She hissed, leaning forward slightly.

Your face scrunched up in confusion. “A knife wouldn’t hurt you, though.”

“No,” She said, nodding her head in agreement. “But it would damage this body. And Casey has such a fine body, I wouldn’t want to see it ripped.”

“A demon with a heart. Wow.” Dean chuckled out. He steadied a hand on the wall as he finally stepped down from the makeshift step stool. “Well, you know, there’s a bunch of dead people in town that might disagree with you.”

The demon rolled her eyes, seeming to pretend that she didn’t have any involvement with what had been happening. She placed her hands on the rug and leaned her body backwards. “Hey, I didn’t pull any triggers.” She said. You narrowed your eyes at her, wondering if she was telling the truth. You mumbled something underneath your breath, not believing one word she spoke. And it seemed she could sense the disbelief. “You want to know what I did–what I really did? I had lunch.”

“Lunch?” You asked her, wondering where this was going.

“Me and Trotter. He had a cheeseburger, I had a salad, and I just pointed out the money that could be made with a few business that cater to harmless vice. So Trotter built it, and man, did they come.” She explained with a slight grin spreading across her lips. “Supposedly God-fearing folk, waist-deep in booze, sex, gambling. I barely lifted a finger.”

Dean took a few steps forward to the woman, “That’s it?”

“You don’t get it. All you gotta do is nudge humans in the right direction. Some whisky here, a hooker there, and they’ll walk into Hell with big, fat smiles on their faces.” She said. You knew she had been partly right about that. Some people were too persuasive, you give them what you want, they’ll sign their life away without thinking about the consequences afterwards that wait them at the end. "Your kind is corrupt, Dean. Weak. Our will’s stronger. That’s why we’ll win.”

“So, that’s how it ends?” You asked the demon, almost with a bit of hope in your voice.

“No. That’s how it begins.”

“Demons take over.” Dean said, trying to process what the demon had been hinting around for the past few minutes. He finally managed to get himself to calm down, taking a seat on the ground, just a foot from where you were residing. “I thought the meek shall rise an inherit the Earth.”

She let out a small chuckle from the presumption. “Oh, according to your bible. It’s only a book.”

You gave her a look, knowing a few people you’d known who’d dedicated to almost a life of endless faith would be offended from that sentence alone. Some people were true to what they believe in, and they wouldn’t change, no matter what someone else told them. “Well, not everyone would agree with you there.” You said, striking her down a peg from her theory.

“Because it’s God’s book?” She asks, turning her gaze to you. “Do you believe in God, Y/N?”

You tilted your head to the side, “What I choose to believe is no one’s business. Maybe there is someone out there. I don’t know.”

“Well, I don’t see how you and your God have done such a bang-up job.” The demon said, wanting to drag this conversation into a darker topic. You narrowed your eyes at her, knowing she was trying to make all humans out to be nothing more than bloodthirsty monsters. “War genocide–it’s only getting worse. This past century, you people racked up a body count that even amazed even us. It’s our turn now, and we’re gonna do it right this time.”

The sudden sound of something tagging against the iron bars had you snapping your head upwards as Dean jumped out of his seat quick as he could. He leaned himself against the wall to take a better look, hoping he would find someone’s familiar face staring between the cracks as he strained himself to go higher. “Don’t be so hopeful, Dean. You’re not delivered.” She said, trying to finish her thought. The both of you weren’t paying attention, your focus was trying to figure out if someone was out there, but she delivered the bad news. “It’s only the wind.”

+ + +

You pushed yourself off the barrel you’d been sitting on for the past half an hour, suddenly wanting to stretch your legs. While the two carried on a conversation, you could feel your eyes slowly linger to the window with almost nervousness. You pressed your teeth into your bottom lip as you began to pace around the room in a small space. Between the talk of what the demons had planned along began running around in your mind, it was making you think. And every little sound coming from the outside was making your hopes come up that someone was there. But it faltered quickly after when you saw that nobody was around.

“You’re piling it pretty high there, sweetheart. I’m not sure I’m buying it.”

Dean’s voice brought you back into reality, breaking your concentration from the ground. You dropped your hand, which had been pressed into a fist and covering your almost swollen lip as you chewed away, back down to your side when he glanced over at you. He paced around the room himself, eyeing the demon every so often. But his expressions changed in the slightest, beginning to wonder if you were okay. You managed a weak smile, but it was enough for the conversation to keep going as you drew yourself back into reality.

“Why would I lie?” She asked, pushing herself into a standing position.

“Demons lie.” You said like it was a fact, not even sure what they were discussing.

“Some do. Some are true believers.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Believers in what?”

“You think humans have an exclusive on a higher power?” She asked, like it was almost offensive from what you had said to her. You stopped what you were doing and looked at her for a moment.

A laugh almost escaped your throat from what she was hinting around at. “You have a God?”

“Sure.” She said. “His name is Lucifer.”

“You mean the Devil?” Dean asked, his face scrunching up ever so slightly.

“Your word, not ours.Lucifer actually means ‘light bringer.’ Look it up.” The demon corrected him. You and Dean looked at each for a moment, almost not sure if you should be afraid of what you were hearing, or perhaps start laughing at believing what she was saying. There was enough lore and stories about the devil himself. You didn’t know what was true. But it seemed she was going to tell you both what they believed. “Once he was the most beautiful of all God’s angels. But God demanded that he bow down before man, and when he refused, God banished him. Tell me, Y/N, how do you like bowing down before lesser creatures?”

You ignored her question, having an idea of what she was trying to hint at. “Lucifer’s really real?”

“Well, no one’s actually seen him,” She admitted. “But they say that he made us into what we are, and they say he’ll return.”

"Oh, yeah?” Dean asked. You turned your head to see that he was walking across the room, wandering around the place until he passed by an empty shelf. You saw him peek out between the cracks, his gaze lingering on the demon for a moment. “And, uh, you believe that?”

“I’ve got faith.” She said, crossing her arms over her chest. You let out a quiet sigh as you began to have a feeling of wanting to call her out on being judgemental from what she’d been saying about humans. But it seemed this was her way of trying to make everyone appear as the same. “So, you see? Is my kind really all that different than yours?”

You raised your eyebrows at her, knowing her argument was weak. “Well, except that demons are evil.” You say, hoping that would shut her up. But it was just adding fuel to the flame.

“And humans are such a loveable bunch. Dick Cheney.” She said, bringing up a name you were a bit familiar with. You gave her a look, wondering what she was trying to get at now. “Let’s just say he’s got a parking spot reserved for him downstairs.”

With the topic of Hell out in the open, you couldn’t help yourself but let your curious side peek out for once. You shifted around your weight from footing as you glanced over at the demon. It seemed you were almost hesitant to ask the question, but you were blurting out in a blink of an eye, knowing you just set yourself up for disaster. “Speaking of downstairs,” You said, finding the words slipping out faster than you could stop them. “What’s it like down there?”

“What, Hell?”

“No, Candyland.”

The demon narrowed her eyes from your sarcastic response. Her eyes narrowed at you, knowing you’d set yourself up for a taunting trap, and she was sinking her teeth into the bait. “This is just a game to you, isn’t it, Y/N? It’s who’s gonna get killed first. You or Dean. Either way, there’s no stopping it. You booked yourself a one-way ticket with those deals.” She said. You shrugged your shoulders, trying to play off her passive threats as nothing. “You’re not gonna like it, Y/N. And judging from the trouble you two started, I don’t think you’ll be getting the presidential suite.”

“I’ve been through a lot of things.” You mumbled, keeping your voice low enough so she could only hear you. “I’m not afraid of going down there. I bet it’s not even that bad.”

“It’s a pit of despair. Why do you think we want to come here?” She asked, taking a step forward, just far enough where the trap would allow her to go. Her lips stretched into a slight frown as she stared at you for a moment. It was almost like she was feeling sorry for you. “Let’s hope you don’t get yourself down there, Y/N. For a girl like you, they’re gonna eat you alive. Again and again.”

+ + +

Threats were something that came natural to demons, they would use anything to get under your skin, find what buttons they could use and press them until your breaking point. From the ones you met, it was almost like it was a fun habit they wanted to do for their own amusement. But with this one just sitting across from you, it almost was like she was humane. Her words kept repeating themselves in your mind. While demons would do almost anything to have someone like you damned to Hell, she was different. You were wondering if she was trying to warn you not to take part in the deal that you had made to save Dean from the torture of below.

“Kind of funny, don’t you think?” The demon voice rang through the quietness, which had fallen not that long along as all of you settled back down again. You looked over at her. “The two of you and me sitting here like a couple of regular folk.”

“It’s hilarious,” You muttered. “You know, in that apocalyptic sort of way.”

The demon let out a small chuckle, “You’re alright, Y/N. Dean, I’m warming myself to him. The others don’t describe him that way. But, you know, he’s likeable.”

“A demon likes me. Sorry, I don’t know how to respond to that.” He said, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a weak laugh escape you as you shook your head.

“You could say thank you.” The demon said, trying to be funny. But the conversation seemed to have stopped there for a moment. She looked at the both of you before striking up another topic that didn’t know where it was going to lead. Her gaze lingered over to Dean, knowing she was speaking to him first. “That you deal you made to save Sam–a lot of others would mock you for it, think it was weak or stupid. I don’t. I think what you two did was brave.”

Your eyes lingered over to Dean, wondering what he was going to respond with. Neither you or his brother had brought up his deal. It was a subject that always seemed to end with a heated argument or someone feeling guilty for their choices or the consequences that lead from weeks ago. All though Dean had seemed to pretend that he wasn’t afraid of going to Hell for his family, you wondered if the conversation from before changed his mind. But it seemed he didn’t. Or he was great at lying to the both of you.

“It’s been kind of liberating, actually.” He admitted. You found yourself staring at him, trying to figure out his facial expressions, wanting to know what he was true or not. Maybe it would have been easier for him to say this in front of the demon by himself. But you weren’t that far from him where he was. “What’s the point in worry about a future when you don’t have one, huh?”

“Still, a year left.” The demon said. Your stomach twisted itself into knots whenever someone brought up that little fact you’d tried forgetting about. “You’re not scared? Not even a little?”

“Of course not.” He mumbled. Dean seemed confident enough in his voice. But when you looked into his eyes, there was something else there. He couldn’t deny some things to others, or even to himself sometimes, no matter how hard he tried.

+ + +

Boredom seemed to have become your best friend now. You were lying on your backside after pressing together at least two barrels, trying your hardest to figure out what to do. From where you were lying, you had a perfect view of the small window from above. Even though the wood was hardly comfortable, it was better than sitting on the concrete, letting your bottom become numb from forcing yourself to sit for long periods of time. Your eyes lingered away from the night’s sky to the demon, seeming curious if she was in the mood to answer some more questions.

“Hey,” You turn your head, letting your hair fall off to the side of the side. You saw that she was almost copying you as she laid on her side, her face curious to see what you were about to say next. “Could I ask you a question about something?”

“I’m an open book.” She said, sending you an invitation.

Your eyes lingered to Dean, who was sitting not that far from you, before you looked back at her. “So,the gate opened. The demon army was let out. What now?” You asked. “I mean, there was so much talk up until this point. But I’m not seeing much action coming from you guys.”

“Honestly, there was a plan.” She admitted. “Azazel was a tyrant, but he held us all together.”

“Azazel?” You asked, pushing yourself up into a sitting position again.

“You think his friends just called him Yellow Eyes? He had a name.” She said, shadowing your actions as she sat crossed legged, pushing herself far as she could go. “After Dean did him in, it all fell apart.”

Dean gave her a sarcastic kind of smile, “Sorry about that.”

You ignored his comments, wanting to find any sort of answers that had been buzzing around in your mind. It seemed you’d gotten lucky with a demon that knew a few things and seemed a bit friendly enough to chat. “So, what? He just lead it off with no chain in command?”

“There was. It was Sam.” She admitted. Part of that you had a feeling was true. All the things the previous demon had done to those children was a test to see who was leader material. It would have been Jake leading this mess, but you and Dean happened to screw everything up, making his little brother back into the mess. But then the demon was dead. And now there was nothing but chaos around you. “Sam was supposed to be the grand pooh-bah and lead the big army. But he hasn’t exactly stepped up to the plate, has he?”

"Thank God for that.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

“Again with God. You think this is a good thing, Dean? Now you’ve got chaos, a war without a front, hundreds of demons all jockeying for power, all fighting for the crown.“ She said. You could see her eyes linger over to you, making you swallow from what she said next. "This could be your chance, Y/N. Some of them would love to see what you’ve got. Better than spending time in Hell, huh? For the record, I was ready to follow either you or Sam.”

You could feel your jaw beginning to tighten, suddenly having the urge of clawing your way out here if that meant trying to get out of this conversation. But the distant sound of your name being called made your heart flutter. It was Sam. "Looks like you two win.” She mumbled.

Neither you or Dean were going to waste your time commenting on that. You jumped up and tried your hardest balancing yourself on the wooden barrels as you steadied yourself against the wall so you wouldn’t fall. Sam was calling out yours and his brother’s at the same time, wandering the grounds. “Sammy, down here!” You yelled. “The basement’s caved in!”

In just a few moments, you could feel a smile spread across your lips when you saw Sam appear into your vision. He bent down to see you and Dean were nearly pressing yourselves together to see the man. “Dean. Y/N. Hold on, okay? We’re coming.” He said, trying to keep the both of you confident this situation would end well. But suddenly you weren’t hopeful from the pronoun game that he was playing with the both of you.

“Who’s we?” You asked him.

“I’m here with the father.” Sam explained.

Your face dropped as you looked over your shoulder. The demon had warned you that someone was going to be coming for her. It seemed you or Dean weren’t going to make this a fight to see who was going to beat each other to the finish line. You knew it would be risky to warn Sam of the danger ahead and blurt out the truth. “Sammy, be careful, okay?” You said. His face scrunched up slightly before you watched him realize what you were hinting at. The both of you exchanged one more glance before he disappeared from your sight, making you nervous to see the outcome.

+ + +

Waiting had never been a strong point for you. Standing with your arms crossed over your chest, you could hear faint sounds of something echoing through the air, making you antsy to find out what was going on out there. You took a few steps forward to the small window to hear something that almost sounded like a gunshot. But your attention shifted forward when you noticed sounds of someone’s footsteps echoing off the floors from above. Your eyes lingered on the doorway that was the only passage out of here. Someone like Sam, even if he found a way to somehow stop this demon, it would have taken him a bit longer to find a plan of action. Whoever was heading toward to the three of you, they were acting like none of the debris was a problem.

Your fears were becoming true when you saw someone from before, Father Gil, pushing and shoving rocks out of the way as he made a hole just big enough for him to sneak through. You might have seen demons take over people for whatever reasons; because they were good looking, people who held power that could lead them to what they wanted. But seeing one taking over a priest for a new one for you. His attention was solely on his partner as he jumped off the rubble and made his way down to the level all of you were standing on. You glanced over at the devil’s trap that was half covered with the rug. Maybe if he was distracted at trying to be connected with her, you could sneak him in there.

You reached a hand inside the back pocket of your jeans, your fingers brushing over the cold metal flask of holy water. But it seemed that you weren’t sneaky enough, because the next thing that you knew, your body suddenly being thrown around, all before you were flying backwards into the wall. The wind was knocked out of you from the sudden surprise attack. It was a moment before you managed to get yourself back to normal, and with Dean’s help, you both got back to your feet to see something you weren’t expecting. It seemed the pair of demons were partners, but more in a way either one of you had expected. They were lovers.

“You two?” You asked, waving a finger at them with a peculiar expression.

Both of them had shared a moment of passion with one another before breaking apart to see you and Dean gawking at the sight. “For centuries.” Father Gil said. You could feel your eyebrows furrow. You weren’t sure if this was romantic or creepy. “We’ve been to Hell and back, literally.”

“Live them be.” Casey said, seeming to have found some sort of humanity. You were almost filled with relief, wondering if this could have ended without anyone getting hurt, but it seemed her lover wasn’t feeling friendly anymore. He reached out a hand and roughly wrapped itself around Dean’s neck, squeezing it hard enough to cut off the other man’s breathing. You glanced down at the ground for a split second to see that Dean was being lifted off the ground, and before you realized, it you were shooting daggers at Casey, wanting all of this to stop before someone had gotten hurt. “Don’t kill him. Let’s just go.”

“Listen to her. Leave!” You practically begged at the priest, seeing the color in Dean’s face slowly starting to drain from color. You were having your patience tested tonight and it was teetering to desperation. If these demons just wanted to live a life together, causing no real harm, fine. You were okay with them just slipping through the cracks. But he didn’t stop just yet. His eyes lingered to you for a moment, you knew what he wanted to hear from his expression. “Please. Just let him go..”

You could see fingers ever so slowly lift off Dean’s neck one by one, it was a tedious process, but you knew he was finally giving in. But the sudden sound of a gun going off made you jump almost a foot in the air, not expecting for something like this to happen. Dean dropped to the ground after the demon finally let go. You turned your head away from him and back on the priest. Your eyes widened ever so slightly when you saw the demon freeze in place, blood slowly oozed out of his wound in his chest. But the real effects took place just seconds after. You had seen something like this before, way back when Yellow Eyes was shot by Dean. The hues of orange and red ran though his body like lightening as he twitched from the pain, all before he collapsed on to the floor.

Only one weapon like that could have done damage to something like a demon. You twisted your neck to see Sam was standing with the colt in his hands and the finger on the trigger. But there was something about his expression that sent a bad chill down your spine. He was different. You could see the almost predatory glare glossed over in his eyes from what he’d done. There was no remorse or guilt for killing the real person that he killed. The colt shifted around slightly to the next demon, Casey’s body. You could hear Dean shout for his brother to stop, but he didn’t listen.

Another gunshot echoed through the basement, straight into the woman’s stomach. She flinched from the wound that made her stumble backwards before falling to the ground. Both demons were dead. Your eyes trailed down for a moment to see the bodies lying on the broken devil’s trap, their blood oozing from their wounds as they bled out on the concrete. It was a gruesome sight to see, but it wasn’t the worst that you’ve seen on the job. The real thing that had set you off was the blank expression in Sam’s face when you looked at him and how eerie it was you could empathize for him.

+ + +

You headed out of the motel with your duffel bags packed with one on your good shoulder and the other hanging loosely from your hand. Dean had been finishing the loose ends of the dead bodies after all of you had burned their bodies. Bobby had arrived last night with Sam after fixing up the colt to its original state, with some unexpected help. Part of you was happy that all of you had at least something good going, but how Sam acted, testing it out on those two people, it wasn’t like him to just do that. Sure, you and his brother had been almost in danger, but it almost seemed like it was a misunderstanding. If you had opened your mouth sooner, maybe there wouldn’t be two people dead. But you told yourself that Sam was doing what he thought was best, that’s all.

As you bent down to push your bags into the way back of the trunk for now, you almost didn’t seem notice someone was helping you before it was too late. You around to grab the other bag, but a gasp of surprise escaped you before it turned into a laugh. Bobby was standing right next to you, lending a helping hand. You mumbled a thank you before you shoved it into the trunk, deciding it was the last that packing before heading for the road. When you glanced over at Bobby, you caught him staring at you, like he was trying to start a conversation. You gave him a curious look as you cracked a small smile.

“Something on your mind, Bobby?” You asked him, wondering what this was about.

“I just wanted to see how you were feeling after the last hunt.” He said, pointing a finger at your shoulder. You pushed your shoulders around a few times. But you wonder if that’s really why he’s talking to you. When you gave him a look, there was a moment before the truth is finally spilling out. You can see his eyes lingering on Dean for a moment before focusing on you again. “Dean’s gonna kill me for bringing this up, but…There’s been a lot of things going on, bigger than anything you kids can handle on your own. I need you to know that you can come to me for whatever.”

People always say those kind of words after a tragedy happened. But when you need them, someone’s disappeared and you’re all on your own. Bobby wasn’t that kind of person. He played the fatherly figure for Sam and Dean, and slowly, you were becoming closer to the man. You can see he’s looking at you with the type of expression that he was nothing short of serious. For almost a second, you want to spill everything, but you keep yourself quiet. All you do is nod your head and slam the trunk shut behind you. Bobby reaches out and places a hand on your shoulder before giving it a tight squeeze. He gives you a warm, almost crooked sort of smile.

“You’re a lot like your Momma. I know you’re doing well out there with hunting. But there was always something about her I couldn’t stand.” Bobby said. You gave him a look, wondering what that was. “She always took on more than she could handle, same with John. I just don’t want you or Dean to end up in the same situation. I need you to promise me something, Y/N.”

“What’s that?” You asked the man.

“Keep looking out for those boys. You’ve been doing a good job. But most importantly, Y/N,” He says. You can feel him squeeze your shoulder once more to make his point clear. “Take care of yourself first.”

+ + +

Bobby’s words still lingered around in your mind after you said your final goodbyes to the man. Since you were packed up and ready to go, there was only one more person left that still needed to make his appearance. You walked down the halls of the motel, watching the numbers slowly dwindle down to the number that Sam and Dean had been staying in during the duration of the hunt. Letting out a quiet sigh, you reached out a hand and knocked quietly on the door before you were shoving your hands inside your pockets. A few seconds passed until the door opened a crack, Sam’s face peeked out to see who it was. You gave him a small smile, hoping he would let you in to talk for a few minutes.

You always knew Sam as the gentle giant; kind and loveable to whoever crossed his paths, and even when faced with something that seemed evil, he always wanted to help. But what happened last night wasn’t him. Something shifted inside and made himself lose that personia. He took a step back and opened the door wider, allowing you to slip inside. You glanced around to see that packing was almost done for him. There was just a few more things that needed to be done before all of you could head back on the road. As you looked over at Sam, he was trying his hardest to avoid eye contact with you as he shifted around the room.

“Sammy,” You start off the conversation, heading over to the bed that Dean had been sleeping in just the night before. Sam heads over to the other side of the room, grabbing a bag from the chair before throwing it across the room, landing it on the bed next to yours. It seemed the coldness from last night is gone. And it’s replaced with guilt. You let out a quiet sigh, seeing him angrily pack things away. He seems to know that you’re here to discuss everything, but as you open your mouth again, your attention lingers to the door as it quietly opens. “What hell are you doing here?”

Ruby is standing in the doorway, she gives you an expression nothing short of amusement from the question coming out of your mouth. “Nice to see you too, Y/N.” She says, closing the door behind her. You give her a slight frown, not happy to see her presence right now. But it seemed she wanted to chat with you both. “Leaving so soon? We haven’t even had a chance to celebrate.”

“Yeah, well,” Sam mumbled as he continued packing. “You can celebrate without me.”

“You’re not gonna get all pouty on me now, are you?” She teased the man. But Sam didn’t break from his mood, so she cracked a toothy grin at him, hoping that would cheer him up. You push yourself into a standing position when you see her coming forward and claiming a spot on the bed. “Come on! You killed two demons today, Sam.”

“Maybe you don’t care, but I killed two humans, too.” Sam said. He turned around in his spot, following the woman as he gave her an icy stare to show his disapproval for her happiness.

Ruby rolled her eyes from how the both of you were reacting. “Sam, you know what happens when demons piggyback humans. They leave them rode hard and put up wet. Chances are those two would have died a slow, sticky death. You probably did them a favor.”

"Did them a favor?” You repeated after her, giving the woman a shocked stare from what had come out from her mouth. For someone claiming to be on the side with humans, she wasn’t batting an eye for the fatal casualties because of her own actions. You shake your head from what you’re hearing.“You’re a cold bitch, you know that?”

“Yeah, and this cold bitch has saved your ass couple times now.” Ruby points out. You let out scoff this time, it’s your turn to roll your eyes, finding her attitude not the least bit cute. “Some respect might be nice, Y/N. Especially if you want me to help you out with Dean and his little problem.”

"You know what? You keep dangling that, but last time I check, Dean’s still going to Hell.” Sam points out the little fact. It seemed that he was sick and tired of hearing the same thing over again. Ruby kept promising you two a way out of this, in which nobody could have gotten hurt, but she wasn’t lifting a finger to help either of you.

“Everything in its own time, Sam.” She said. “But there’s a pro quo here. We’re at war.”

“Right.” You mumbled, pretending to understand she was saying. You let a small smile cross your lips before you looked down at her. “But for some reason, you’re fighting on our team. Now, tell me, why is that again?”

“Go screw yourself. That’s way.”

“Talk to me like that again and you’ll be picking your teeth off the ground.”

“I don’t have to justify my actions to you, Y/N.” She says, putting her attitude toward you for the moment. You can feel your jaw tighten in anger as she pushes herself up from the bed. “If you don’t want my help, fine. Then give me the gun, and I’ll pass it on to someone who will use it.”

You open your mouth to make another comment, but the sound of a clicking makes your head turn. Sam’s standing right next to you with the colt in his hands and the finger on the trigger. He’s staring at Ruby with a threatening glare, not wanting to be pushed any farther today. “Maybe I’ll just use it on you.” He says, pressing the barrel against her chest.

Ruby lets out a quiet scoff, “Go ahead, if that makes you happy.” She’s calm and in control. You know she’s using Sam to her advantage, and from what she says next, you feel yourself doubting the kill would be worth it. “It’s not gonna do much for Dean, though. So what’s it gonna be?” She tries egging on the man to pull the trigger, but you stare at him for the longest time. If he kills her, Sam knows the plan will fall apart and you’ll want to take matters in your own hands. After a moment, you hear the familiar click as he drops the gun to his side in defeat. “That’s my boy.”

Ruby lets a smile spread across her lips for a moment, knowing she’s got Sam on her side. But you only listen, wondering what she had planned. “This won’t be easy. You two are gonna have to do things that go against that gentle nature of yours. There’ll be collateral damage…but it has to be done.”

“Well,” Sam mumbles, turning around to drop the gun to the bed. “I don’t have to like it.”

“No.” You agree.“ You wouldn’t be Sam if you did.”

“On the right side, I’ll be there with you,” Ruby speaks up, speaking directly to Sam now. “That little fallen angel on your shoulder.”

You don’t know why, but that comment from Ruby strikes you as odd, it brought you back to what the demon had said before about Lucifer. He was banished when he refused to bow down to humans. You didn’t believe the Devil was real. But demons did. And here was Ruby; rumored to have created by the Devil himself and going against him. Something about it doesn’t make you feel right to trust her or this plan. But you go along with it anyway, for the sake of Sam’s safety.

Chapter Text

“I don’t understand, Dean. Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

You really hated that excuse. With your fingers running down your face in frustration, you could feel an unwanted headache beginning to pound away, demanding to be turned into a migraine if this conversation didn’t turn around in the way you hoped. The car swerved into a small ditch in the road making you lean forward to the side as your stomach began to feel queasy. This migraine was making your life a total hell this past few days. Stress of Ruby’s plan that had been rolling around in your mind since she proposed it. You weren’t exactly a hundred percent on board with this idea, but Sam sunk his teeth in and wouldn’t let go. Since he was always persistent at striking the conversation with his brother about this topic—and crashed before making any real progress.

You were going to try and ease Dean into the conversation, thinking it would have been better coming from you. And while it started civil, things turned nasty, quicker than each of you realized. Now the argument was just about proving each other wrong, no matter what the jabs were.

“We have the colt now.” You pointed out the fact, the only real leverage you had against these demons. Dean muttered your name, his tone of voice was tired and full of frustration, but that wasn’t going to stop you. “I can summon the crossroads demon, pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal. Problem solved!”

You were pushing him to his breaking point all over again. And from how his tone was rising, you knew he was going to find some sort of excuse to get out of this conversation. But you weren’t ready to quit just yet. You weren’t afraid of having this turn into a screaming match if that’s what it came down to. "We don’t know if that’ll even work!” Dean argued, but you continued talking.

“Demons seem to like barging around with me. But if she doesn’t want to play nice, then I’ll just shoot her!” You yelled back at him. “If she dies, the deal goes away!“

Dean let out the loudest scoff, and knowing him, there was an eye roll you couldn’t see following afterward. "We don’t know if that will work either, Y/N! You two are just pitching me a bunch of ‘ifs’ and 'maybes’! And that’s not good enough!” His tone was louder than yours, making you fall silent for a moment as he began to think clearly. “Because if we screw even more with deal, Sam dies!”

"And if we don’t do screw with it, you die!” You scream at him. “Why don’t you stop being a control freak for five goddamn minutes and let me help out!”

Suddenly you’re pressing your palms against the front seat when you feel the Impala come to a jerking halt in the middle of the road. You can hear the engine still running before Dean parks the car for a moment. You lean back in your seat as the man roughly turns himself around in his seat, the leather squeaking ever so slightly before you’re facing the wrath that’s been building up for weeks. He might have downplayed it when you told them after arriving back, but it seemed you were going to get what he really felt about your little deal. Your fingers dug themselves into your skin when he began speaking, using a tone of voice that didn’t sit well with you.

“I’ve had it up to here with you and your petty attitude. What you did back there was stupid and reckless. I know you really aren’t on board with whole plan, anyway. So, what? You just gonna summon the damn demon hoping that she kills you?” You breathe loudly through your nose as your eyes drift away from him, trying your hardest to find something else to look at. But he doesn’t care. “Is that want you want? Just to throw your entire life away!?“

You feel your jaw tighten for a moment before you open it, but before any words can come out, Dean speaks up again. "I told you, Y/N. If you pull a stunt like this and I swear, your ass is on lockdown for the rest of the year. I’m not gonna have this conversation again. Do you understand me?” You let out the faintest laugh from his authority, he stares at you without breaking from character. "You think this is funny, Y/N?”

“Freaking hilarious.” You hiss at him. Dean rolls his eyes, seeming to find the conversation has ended there. You cross your arms over your chest like a small child as look out the window. The engine roars back to life all of you continue on the road, and without thinking, you let out a muffled comment you thought he wouldn’t hear from where you were sitting. “You’re not your father. Quit acting like it.”

Dean glances up in the rear view mirror for a moment, seeming to hear the remark. “No. But I’m the oldest. I’m doing what’s best. If you want to keep hunting, like I know you do, keep your mouth shut and listen for once. You two have got to let this go. You understand me?” Dean’s voice is stern and almost exactly like how you remembered John when either of his sons acted out. You look into the mirror, locking eyes with Dean for a moment. You can see behind all the frustration and anger, lingers the fear he won’t admit. Neither you or Sam say anything, wanting to leave the conversation at that, but Dean tries provoking. “All right. Tell me about this psychotic killer. Come on, guys, tell me about this psychotic killer.”

Sam reached out a hand and snatched the newspaper from the dashboard, clearly not wanting to speak himself. But you’ve fallen into complete silence as you nudged your head for him to do the honors. "The psychotic killer rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.” He read off, repeating the first sentence of the article with a mumbled tone of voice. You and him want to pretend nothing happened and leave the rest of the car ride in complete silence. But Dean keeps speaking.

“Okay,” Dean said, sounding a bit more civil sounding from the response his brother was giving him. You straighten yourself up from slouching and began sitting up straighter. “Any mention of his razor-sharp teeth or his four inch claws, animal eyes?”

“No. But the lunar cycle’s right. ” Sam’s voice is still quiet, but he’s making himself speak about the case as he threw the newspaper back on the dashboard for safekeeping. “Look, if it is a werewolf, we don’t have long. Moon’s full this friday, and that’s the last it changes for a month.”

“Two days.” Dean says, nodding his head. “No sweat.”

+ + +

Just because things between everyone was tense and a little bit awkward, there was still a job that needed to be done. Werewolf cases were just a one time deal for you, and since the last one didn’t go exactly well, you were putting all your focus in. That meant speaking to the only victim that managed to get out of the attack with some abrasions and deep cuts which kept him in a hospital bed, still shaken up from what he’d seen. You and the brothers were dressed in the typical formal attire to pose for police investigators, always the least hard part of the job. You flashed the fake badge at the man who inspected it for just a few seconds before waiting for the proper verbal introduction to know what was going on.

“I’m detective Plant. This is detective Page.” Dean announced himself, closing his badge as he nodded his head to Sam, before pointing a finger at you for a moment. “And that’s detective Paige. We’re here with the county sheriff’s department.”

“Yeah, I’ve been expecting you. All morning.” He said. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. From what you could tell, the police were already here and got his statement after being admitted. Normally all of you were here, claiming to be just a routine checkup, but it seemed this was a case of miscommunication that you didn’t see coming. “You’re the sketch artists, right?”

You glanced over at the brothers, wondering who was going to start explaining as you flashed them a small smile. You weren’t good under pressure, and with a situation like this, you sort of felt like a fish out of water without the right tools. Dean looked between you and his brother for a moment before his lips stretched into a small smile as his eyes lingered over to you when he chose your cover. “Absolutely. Yeah. That’s exactly who my partner is. The things she can do with a pen.” He said, patting you on the shoulder lightly. You gave him the quickest glare before returning your attention on the victim. “But listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you—how’d you get away?”

The man seemed baffled himself, not sure exactly how to respond himself. He was silent for a few seconds before he shook his head. "I—I have no idea.” He admitted, shrugging his shoulders with a heavy sigh following his guilt when he remembered the events. “I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me, and then he just stopped.” Your eyebrows furrowed, surprised to hear this. Normally when werewolves turned, they don’t leave a victim alive, they killed whatever was in their path. “Stared at me with this blank look. After that, he just took off running.”

You patted around in your blazer pockets before you managed to find the small notebook hidden away for notes. Turning to a fresh page, you uncapped the pen and gave the man a warm smile, ready to get this sketch started. “Okay. Um, I’m gonna need as much psychical detail as you can remember.” You explained. “Anything we can use to catch this guy.”

“Uh, yeah,” He began to recollect on the memory, trying to figure out who his attacker was. From the details, you began to jotting down the psychical traits for future reference. But from what he was telling you, it wasn’t much you were getting to help make a clear description of what he looked like. “He was about six feet tall. Dark hair.”

“Um, what about his eyes?” You stopped writing things down as you looked up at the man with a small smile. From the corner of your eye, the brothers peered over your shoulder, wanting to see what work you were doing. A small sigh escaped your lips as you tried to keep your composure before you repeated yourself. “What color eyes did he have?”

“Maybe…blue? It was dark.” He said, struggling with the right answer.

You nodded your head, making the small note before you were sketching the eyes, happy to see that you’d stashed a blue pen for this. But you stopped for a moment when Dean asked the man a question, and it wasn’t exactly subtle. “Did they seem, uh,” He asked the man, trying to sound professional. Your eyes trailed over to him in annoyance. “Animal-ish?”

“What about his teeth?” Sam interjected into the conversation, having a feeling things might have gone south. “You notice anything strange about them?”

The man shook his head, his face scrunching in confusion at the questions you all were giving him. “No, they were just teeth.” He clarified, slowly and clear for you all.

“Teeth. Okay.” Sam mumbled as he pointed a finger at the sketch. You kept yourself composed as you tried perfecting the smile. “Make sure to get that in full detail here and then–right there. How about his fingernails?”

"Okay, look, he—he’s just a normal guy with normal eyes and teeth and fingernails.” He said, becoming angry from all the peculiar questions that you were making him answer. You gave him a small smile, trying to calm him down before things escalated quickly. He shook his head for a second as you saw the grief coming back. “No. No. Those were my brothers. This guy…he killed my brothers. How would you feel?”

You swallowed from the question that he threw, almost unexpected to hear something like this so soon. You kept your gaze down for a moment as you played around with your pen. As silence seemed to have been dictating this conversation, your eyes slowly trailed over to Sam when he finally broke it. “Can’t imagine anything worse.” He muttered. His tone was quiet, but you knew deep down, he’d been thinking about the exact same situation that might happen very soon.

“I know this isn’t easy,” You said. “But if you could remember anymore details.”

“There was one more thing. He had a—a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character.” He said, you got ready to add the detail, but he struggled for the name. “Uh, ugh, it’s the guy who—he’s chasing the roadrunner.”

“Wile E. Coyote.” Dean said, snapping his fingers.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He answered.

Your nose wrinkled at the thought of the ugly tattoo someone thought was considered artwork, but you added it anyway to the sketch, right as his doctor appeared into the room. He appeared out from the corner of your eye, his focus on his patient as he stepped closer to the bed.. “Kyle? How you holding up?” He asked, seeming concerned enough from the stress you’d been giving him.

“Okay, considering everything.” Kyle mumbled underneath his breath.

“You’re Kyle’s doctor?” Dean asked, pulling out his badge to show the man. Dr. Garrison leaned over and examined the identity before nodding his head. “Can I just ask you a few questions?”

The doctor mumbled something in agreement before you saw them both leave the room. You glanced over at Sam, not sure what either you or him were going to do next. As you shoved the pen inside your pocket, you were about to stash the pad away before Kyle spoke up. “Don’t I get to see it?” He asked, his arm was stretched out, waiting to see your sketch. Your cheeks were suddenly feeling warm when you glanced down, Sam was starting to smile from the predicament you caused yourself in. “Please?”

“Uh, yeah, it’s a, you know,” You began mumbling, slowly handing over the small notebook before Kyle finally managed to grab it from you. A small chuckle escaped you as you gave him a weak smile. “It’s a work in progress. Not my best, I can’t say that enough.”

Kyle examined it for a few moments; you could see his face was written with confusion for a moment before he glanced up at you, all before giving you almost a pitiful smile. “It’s really,” He tried to be nice, but you knew he wasn’t exactly pleased when he handed over the pad. “Huh.”

You snatched it away, giving Sam a dirty glare when you heard let out the slightest chuckle. You turned yourself on your heels, only wanting to find Dean and get out of this place before the real sketch artist showed up. But you couldn’t help yourself but look down for a moment, examining your doodle of the man. You flinched and shoved the notebook away for now.

+ + +

It seemed that your art could make people feel something; and that was amusement. You and the brothers walked the journey back from the hospital with Dean managing to snag your notebook away so he could examine the sketch with further detail. He let out a chuckle as his lips stretched into a grin. “Boy, Y/N, you really outdid yourself.” His sarcasm wasn’t funny as you finally managed to get your notepad back. “This is a piece of art, really.”

"Yeah, like you could have done any better.” You mumbled, shoving the notebook away from anyone else’s lingering eyes and unwanted judgement. “So, what did the doctor have to say about Kyle’s brothers?”

“Not much. They were D.O.A at the scene.” He admitted before getting to the good stuff. “But he did give me the lowdown on the coroner’s report.”

“Let me guess,” Sam said, having a feeling of what his brother was going to say next. It was always common in a werewolf’s diet. “Their hearts were missing.”

“Nope,” Dean said, taking you off guard from the news. You gave him a look, wondering what could have been the prime target. “But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

Your nose scrunched up at the thought, “Okay. That’s just gross. But definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So, what—demon?” Sam asked, beginning to start a list of possible suspects for all you to start tracking. “Attacker could have been possessed.”

“Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?” Dean asked.

You had to admit, there was a good point about that. Demons weren’t the type of creatures to leave a victim, almost nothing survived from what you hunted, but something was either feeling generous or stopped him from taking the last brother’s life. “I think that, uh, could’ve,” Sam tried his hardest to figure it out, but he found himself stumped for answers. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Me, either.” Dean admitted to you both.

“All right. Two dead bodies and one victim who thinks I’m a sucky artist.” You said, patting your hand against your pocket. “Either there’s a cannibal on the loose or we’ve got a case. I don’t know about you guys, but there’s something strange going on—Oh, ew!”

You managed to glance down at the sidewalk just at the right time to see a toad lying on the ground, just a few inches of where your shoe was. You accidentally lost your footing as you tried not stepping on the animal, your back accidentally bumped itself against Dean’s chest as you heard the vibrations of his throaty laugh from your reaction. "Aw, he likes you.” He remarked, hint of a grin from the tone of his voice. “Maybe if you kiss it he’ll turn into a prince.”

You rolled your eyes, managing to step far away from the toad as you began walking forward to the Impala. The brothers let out another laugh before they were following behind in your direction, leaving the animal behind in the streets as he hopped to another direction.You peeked out the backseat window to see the frog was a good distance away from you, but you swore, the thing was staring at you with the utmost curiosity.

+ + +

This morning wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. Your fingertips drummed themselves against the wooden counter tops of the motel office you and the brothers were staying at for the remainder of the trip. The person in charge of this place didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight, which gave you even more of a headache. You woke up feeling terrible; from the ache that seemed to have concentrating on your legs whenever you walked and this scratchy feeling inside your throat that made it almost impossible to speak. Maybe it was because you were forced to crash on the couch in their motel, Dean obviously fearful that you were going to do something stupid during this hunt. All it left you was hopeful of managing to get your own room before either one of them woke up to discover you up to.

You let out another sigh of annoyance as you glanced over at the clock sitting on the wall before you settled on examining your surroundings. For a moment you were contemplating on calling it quits, but it seemed something else was going to do that for you. You stumbled upon an interesting article you noticed when skimming the local newspaper delivered not too long again. You reached out a hand and skimmed the article one more time to read the story. It almost sounded—familiar? You snatched the newspaper from the counter and headed back to the motel room, wondering if you found another case. Maybe this town wasn’t just being plagued by werewolves. Perhaps sweet elderly women that lived in the middle of the woods were blood thirsty, too.

+ + +

You and brothers headed back to the hospital shortly after investigating a bit more into the attack that left one dead and the victim alive to tell the tale over again. From what you skimmed through the article, it seemed that a pair of siblings were traveling in the woods until they got lost and stumbled upon an elderly woman that lived in a cottage just outside of town. She was an innocent woman that never caused trouble, until just yesterday when she butchered one with a kitchen knife. Details were still a bit fuzzy, but it was enough to convince both men that it could be something to look into with more detail. So, all of you got dressed in the standard formal wear to investigate more.

When you arrived at the hospital, it seemed you weren’t the only ones keeping an eye on things as two uniformed police officers stepped out of the room the living victim was staying in. You and the brothers weren’t exactly upstanding citizens in the eyes of the law. It would have been safer to play in the shadows for a moment as you steered clear of them, the boys following behind. You leaned against the front desk for a moment and tried looking busy for a moment. You heard heavy footsteps coming from behind, you peered over your shoulder to see the officers had walked right past all of you with almost no indication they even noticed you standing there. When they rounded the corner, all of you took the opportunity and headed for the woman staying just down the hall.

You walked into the doorway of the room before you were stopping in your tracks. Dr. Garrison was tending to the patient, trying to console the woman as she pleaded. She was worried more about the arrangements for her dead brother than getting better. “Miss. Watson, please. We need to observe you while the drugs still may be in your system.” He said with both hands placed on her shoulders, trying to comfort the grieving woman the best way he could.

“I have things to do,” Miss. Watson tried explaining to the man, “Arrangements to make.”

“It can wait. Now, you need to rest. Stay, please. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Dr. Garrison said, easing the woman just enough for her to at least lay back down in bed without much of a chance to jump out again. You saw him head for the door, a heavy sigh escaping him as he approached the three of you. It seemed he wasn’t surprised seeing all of you here, concerning the matter. “Detectives. What the hell is going on here? My whole town’s gone insane.”

“We’ll let you know as soon as we do.” You said. But there wasn’t much truth in your words. Dr. Garrison let out another breath he’d been holding and nodded his head, stepping out of the room to attend to the rest of his patients. You and the boys walked deeper into the room, a small smile spread across your lips when you saw the woman tightened her grip around the blanket when she saw you coming near her. “Miss. Watson?” You spoke first, but found your voice was cracking like a preteen boy. You apologized as you tried clearing your throat, but even that didn’t seem to help. “I’m very sorry. I’m just getting over a cold. Uh, could one of you—”

Dean opened up his suit jacket and fetched out his badge, showing the woman his fake identification. She pulled the covers closer to her body when she thought you were detectives. “Do we have to do this again?” She questioned, her face scrunching up with a mixture of grief and dread when she was forced to think about yesterday’s dilemma. “Now?”

“We’ll try to be brief.” Sam reassured the woman, his tone was soft. The police report had found toxins inside the man’s body, but that wasn’t his because of death. Stabwounds and blood loss were the offical because. They suspected the poisoning was from the pie the woman had offered them. Unfortunately there were details about this case that weren’t clear, which lead to the reason why all of you were here, forcing to bother this young woman for more information. “Miss. Watson, can you tell us how you got away?”

Miss. Watson was silent for a moment as she stared at the spot down at the bed, but she nodded her head and looked partly up at you. “I didn’t each as much as Ken did, so I wasn’t as out of it.” She explained, but as she continued, her voice broke as she was forcing herself back to the brink of tears. “And when the old woman was–carving up Ken, I shoved her.” You glanced over the boys when you heard that information, leading you more into suspecting that this was the sort of thing you were looking for. “And she fell, cracked her head on the stove. She’s dead, right? I-I killed her?”

Dean wasn’t sure of that answer as he tried looking over at you for an answer, but you didn’t see anything on the woman that could link to a cause of death or report of her arrest. “Do you have any idea why she did this to you?” He asked, subtly trying to change the subject.

“No. One minute, she’s just a sweet old lady, and the next,” She said, her voice traveling away for a moment before she finished her thought. “She was like a monster.”

“Can you remember anything else?” You asked. qll though your voice almost raspy, she managed to understand you as her eyes focused to the side as she tried.

“Um, yeah.” She mumbled, sniffling a few times before asking you a question. The one that had you furrowing your eyebrows in curiosity. “Did you find a little girl there, by any chance? I thought I saw her outside of the window. S-She just disappeared, vanished into thin air.” You and the boys seemed to have been taken back from that news, which translated for the woman that you were looking at her like a crazy woman. She shook her head, “It must have been the drugs.”

You reassured the woman with a friendly smile, “This disappearing girl, what did she look like?”

“Does it matter?” Miss. Watson asked.

“Yes.” Sam said, nodding his head at the woman. “Every detail matters.”

She licked her lips and tried to think about it for a second before she was giving you a description. “She had this dark, dark hair and really pale skin. She was around eight.” She said, her brows furrowing. “She was a beautiful child. It was…odd to see her in the middle of something horrible.”

How the woman described the attack didn’t seem like there was a werewolf involved, after all. You knew there was something strange going on here, but you needed to know what before someone else got hurt. You thanked the woman for your time, giving her another smile before you turned yourself around, your face dropping in discomfort. You stopped for a moment and rubbed your knees, the ache inside your legs was growing worse with almost each step that you took, but that wasn’t going to stop you from doing the job.

+ + +

You and the brothers decided to peek around the house to find out what was going on here. You were searching high and low around the home to see if there were any remaining residue of yellow dust or the smell of sulfur. Demons had been out and free for the past few weeks, maybe one of them wanted to wreck havoc on this town, unlike the last one that you’d met. You had looked up and down in this small cottage, but found nothing. You decided to take a rest on the couch and stretched out your legs, the bottom of your feet were beginning to feel like you were walking on pins and needles. Even with the comfortable shoes and painkillers you downed before coming here, things weren’t getting any better.

“Well, there’s no sulfur anywhere.” You said, clearing your voice again when you heard it crack as you rubbed your throat slightly when the ache was growing worse. “How about the EMF?”

You looked over at Sam to see that he was scanning the window, where the woman had claimed to see the mysterious little girl standing outside on the porch. The machine was lighting up like crazy as the noise was growing louder when Sam pushed out his arm farther to scan. “Yeah, it’s going nuts when I went over here by the window.” He said. “There was definitely a spirit here.”

“Who stood outside the crime scene and watched?” Dean asked, his eyebrows arching upward from his own confusion. Most of the time spirits were the one that had been doing the crimes, not watching them take place. Sam scanned the spot of the window where it overlooked the porch as the noises got louder. He shrugged his shoulders, seeming to answer his brother’s question with a yes. “What the hell do you make of that?”

His brother seemed out of answers for a moment as he tried thinking of one. You placed your hands on your knees and pushed yourself up to standing position. “Actually, I do have a theory. Uh sort of.” You said, speaking up first. All though this was a long shot, you were curious to see if they were thinking the same thing without them looking at you like an idiot. Dean nodded his head for you to continue. “Well, I was thinking about fairy tales.”

Dean stopped in his tracks for a moment from what you’d said. He looked at you with the most confused expression, not sure if he should take you seriously. You walked over to the table and leaned yourself against the side, wondering what he had to say about it. “Oh, that's—that’s nice, Y/N.” He said, his lips stretching into an amused grin. “You think about fairy tales often? Or is that just the fever talking now?”

“I told you, I’m fine.” You growled at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. “And besides, Dean, I’m talking about the murders. A guy in a girl hiking in the woods. An old lady tries to eat them. That’s easily a connection to ‘Hansel and Gretel.’”

“You know, Y/N’s got something going here.” Sam said, heading over to the both of you. He nodded his head, going along with your idea. “We got the three brothers arguing over how to build the houses. Attacked by the big bad wolf. ‘The Little Pigs.’ could be considered the first one.”

Dean thought about it for a moment before he nodded his head in agreement with what you and his brother were suggesting. “Actually, those guys were a little chubby.” He said, but you threw him a look from the unwanted comment. “Well, wait, I thought all of those things ended with everybody living happily ever after.”

“No. Not the originals.” You explained, watching as Dean wandered across the room to inspect the window where Sam was previously scanning. “See, the grimm brothers was kind of like folklore of its day—full of sex, violence and cannibalism. Then it got sanitized over the years, turned into the cutest disney movies I love and bedtime stories.”

“So, you think the murders are, what, a re-enactment?” Dean asked. “It’s a little crazy, Y/N.”

“As crazy as what?” You questioned him back with a growing smirk. “Everyday of our lives?”

“Touche.” He mumbled, knowing you’d gotten him there. “But how’s the creepy ghost girl involved?”

You were coming up short with an answer for that, you looked over at Sam, wondering if he was getting anything as you reached out your arm to grab your jacket and put it on. “Um, she must have been here for a reason.” He said. “And I’m willing to bet you top dollar she was at the construction site, too.”

“We got to do research, don’t we?” Dean asked, hoping he was gonna get out of this one.

You nodded your head, “We need all hands on deck. And that means you too, handsome.”

+ + +


Research could make the case you’d been working on with the brothers in two different directions. Either you found something that could crack it wide open, or you were leaving the library frustrated and overwhelmed from the lack of answers. You weren’t particularly happy when you headed out of the building with Dean on your trail, deciding to let the man tag along with you after Sam did some research himself to see if this was the kind of lead that you should be looking to. It was settling into the mid afternoon when you stepped out of the building, Sam was waiting for you and his brother, and without even a second passing by, he was asking for the results. You rolled your eyes, obviously annoyed with the outcome of this as you began walking from the library to the shortcut of the park to where the Impala was parked.

“We checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size.” Dean said, explaining the lack of research. “Do you want to know how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin?”

“Zero.” You answered, not giving Sam a chance to guess. “Do you want to know how many little girls with black hair and pale skin have gone missing? You guessed it— big, fat nothing. Tell me you’ve got something good, Sammy, because I’ve wasted the last six hours of my life with a man who whines more than the average woman.”

“Well, you two ever hear of Lillian Bailey?” Sam asked, you shook your head. “She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairy tale?” Dean wondered.

“No, trances.” Sam said, correcting his brother. “See, she’d go into these unconscious states where, get this, her thoughts and actions were completely controlled by spirits.”

“A ghost puppet master?” Dean asked, repeating after his brother. “You think that’s what this kid is doing? Sending wolf boy and grandma into trances and making them go kill-crazy?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Could be. But, you know, kind of like spirit hypnosis or something.”

“Trances I get, but fairy tale trances? I have to admit, that’s weird. Even for us.” You said, walking more through the quiet sidewalk in the park before you were looking down for a second. But what was standing just a few inches from my our feet made a sigh come through. The same toad that you saw from yesterday was here again, staring right at you. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Sam said, his tone full of sarcasm as you looked over at him. You frowned slightly from what he said next. “That’s completely normal.”

“All right, may it is fairy tales—totally messed-up fairy tales. But I’ll tell you one thing. There’s no way I’m kissing a damn frog.“ Dean muttered underneath his breath, staring at the toad with almost a disgusted face. You remembered the old tale where the princess had kissed the toad that wouldn’t stop following her around, and it turned into the prince she’d been longing for. But his attention lingered over to you, his lips stretching into a half smirk from what he’d brought up next. "Maybe he keeps following Y/N around because she’s got his girl in her throat.”

You subconsciously cleared your throat again, rolling your eyes from the man’s comment as you tried focusing on something else. As you overlooked the scenery, you noticed something in the distance that caught your attention. A house wasn’t far from the park, but it was what that was sitting on the porch that caught your attention. It was a pumpkin, not carved like most, and the little mice roaming around had you thinking of a familiar tale. This could have been a long shot, with a big possibility of you being wrong, but it was worth a try.

“Hey, check that out.” You said, pointing at the pumpkin.

“Yeah, it’s close to Halloween.” Dean said, not seeming to get the connection.

“Do you remember Cinderella?” You asked them, but all you were getting was a blank stare from Dean as Sam tried to think back. “The pumpkin turns into a coach and the mice become horses.”

Sam seemed to understand what you were getting at when his face brightened up. But his brother was now staring at you like you’d just lost your marbles. You couldn’t stop him in time before he reached out a hand and pressed itself against your forehead to check your temperature. "You sure you’re feeling okay?” The question made you push his arm away as you gave him an annoyed expression. “No fever. But I don’t remember you being so into happy ever afters. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

You headed first to the house, ignoring his previous comments as you walked, all though slower than normal. The brothers followed behind on your trail, each of you now standing outside on the porch. You knocked a few times, wondering if you were going to be greeted by a pair of sisters and their mother with a permanent scowl on her face. But a minute passed, nobody answered. You looked around to see there wasn’t a car parked near the home and the park was thinned out with the occasional bystander that seemed to have been paying attention to their own activities than on all of you. Dean took the opportunity and started picking the lock, perfecting the skill through the years so just a moment later, the front door swung open.

You were the first one to step inside, happy the only sort of noise was coming from the three of you as you wandered further inside. “Oh, who knows?” You turned your head to see Dean walked inside the home as he shoved his kit back into his pocket. “Maybe you’ll find your fairy godmother, Y/N.”

“Yeah. Maybe she can turn you from a douche bag into a true gentleman.” You whispered, giving him a playful wink when his lips frowned slightly. “Don’t go all pouty on me, princess. It’s not cute.”

Dean gave you a sneering glare from your comment, which you choose to ignore as you wandered off. You and the boys split up, taking different entrances of the home to see what you could find, and as you took a step for the upstairs, you stopped in your tracks when you heard the echoing sounds of something rattling coming from deeper inside the place. You quietly stepped on the wooden floors, managing to avoid any squeaky spots. If you remembered the old tale of Cinderella well enough, there had been some gritty parts from the original. Between the abusive undertones, the stepmother making Cinderella their servant—to the part where she forced her own daughters to cut off their own toes to fit their foot inside the glass slipper. Who knows what she would do to you if she caught any of you lurking around her home.

You knew the brothers weren’t taking any chances when they drew out their weapons. The string of attacks had left three people viciously mauled to death, neither one of you wanted to be next on that list. Sam peered over the doorway where he had been originally standing, making sure the coast was clear of anyone. Dean closed the front door before he checked the next room he was standing closest toward. When it seemed each room was clear, Sam took lead as you trailed behind, letting them follow first. You normally never carried weapons unless it was necessary. And the way you’d been feeling all day, you wouldn’t exactly make great backup. But the boys were always good at their good, so you weren’t worried about the threat that laid ahead.

All of you quietly headed their the home, checking every inch of the place to see what was going on. You weren’t sure if someone was here, but the sudden voice coming from the room you were now standing next caught your attention. “Help! I’m in here!” A female voice called out. Sam charged in first, you followed behind to look around where it was coming from. You glanced down to see a young woman sitting on the floor in the kitchen. She was bloody and bruised, and from the handcuffs that were keeping her chained to the stove, you knew this was your Cinderella.

“You have to help me.” She pleaded. “She’s a lunatic.”

“Who did this to you?” You asked her. There were fingerprints of bruises on her arms. You knew they were fresh from how they looked. Something like this hasn’t happened before until today.

“My stepmom,” She explained. “She just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me, chained me up.”

“Where is she now?” Sam asked her, as he worked fast as he could to get her out.

You didn’t get the answer because something popped out from the corner of your eye, a color scheme of white and red that popped out from the interior of the home. A little girl standing in the doorway across the hall, her face peeking out slightly. You furrowed your eyebrows, knowing this must have been the little girl the woman you’d spoke to had seen. You pushed yourself to a standing position when she began walking away after you caught her staring. It took you wandering through the home until you finally saw her again standing in the living room. She was quite an adorable child from her white dress and crimson red bow that kept her hair of her face. The little girl blinked a few times before she went running off, continuing this game of tag.

You kept following her, searching through the home until you found yourself standing in the middle of the room she was just in. You furrowed your eyebrows when the room was empty, despite the sounds of creaking floorboards that drew you here. You almost began wondering if you were hearing things, you decided to turn around and head back to the boys. But what you saw standing right in front of you had you stopping in your tracks. There was the little girl again,but she didn’t say anything this time.

“Who are you?” You couldn’t help but ask.

She wouldn’t answer you. Instead, you saw the little girl’s body beginning to glitch around, almost like she couldn’t control herself to stay around any longer. You saw her disappear in just a blink of an eye, but what she left behind had you filled with all sort of confusion. On the ground remained a shiny red apple. You bent down to examine it for a moment before it clicked in your head. Pale skin white as snow and hair black as the midnight sky. With the apple as her parting gift, you knew who the little girl could have represented in this fairy tale town.

+ + +

Sam volunteered to stay with the young woman to make sure she had seen the proper medical attention she deserved. You sat on the hood of the Impala with Dean standing not too far from where you were, but all of your attention seemed to have been kept on the apple you found. You looked up just in time to see Sam walking down the street and back to you. He informed the both of you about the good news that Cinderella could see a happy ever after. You were almost too caught up in your own thoughts to comment, managing to nod your head. But it seemed that Dean was growing concerned when he reached out a hand to snatch the apple away, tossing it over to his brother for safekeeping. You looked up at the man, giving him a glare.

“So, little girl, shiny red apple.” Dean says. “That mean something to you, fairy-tale girl?”

“I think it’s Snow White.” You admit, sliding yourself down to the pavement. But the pressure you feel that hits the bottom of your feet sharp pain through your body, sending your palm to rest against the cool hood for a second before you regain your composure.

“Oh, I saw that movie.” Dean said. You look at him with almost surprise, not expecting him to be the type of guy that would sit through an animated film. Of course, your expression dropped when you realize it’s not the innocent version you’re thinking. “Well, the porn version, anyways. There was this wicked stepmother—she was wicked.”

“There is a wicked stepmother, pervert, but she tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple because she was envious of her beauty.” You explain. “She thought if she was out of the way, she could get the power and title of being the prettiest woman in the kingdom.”

“But the apple doesn’t actually kill the girl, right?” Dean asked for clarification.

“No. It puts her into a deep sleep—so deep, it’s almost like she’s dead.” Sam said. He tosses the apple back to his brother and heads for the passenger side of the car with another possible lead crossing his mind. “What do you know that could make someone almost seem like they’re dead—but still considered medically alive?”

You thought about it before the idea struck you, “You think this little girl is in a coma?” Sam shrugged his shoulders. People could be considered dead from the lack of brain activity due to illness or accidents, but machines were advanced enough to let someone live. You knew it was a long shot, but perhaps this could be the way you would find out what happened to this version of Snow White.

+ + +

You couldn’t help yourself but strum your fingertips against the receptionist’s counter top, waiting for the nurse to finish her research of files to find someone you’d been hoped as lying in one of theses beds. You suspected the little girl that you seen back in the house was in here for not that long, maybe a few months with no brain activity, declaring them dead. Children her age must of had someone who read all sorts of fairy tales before she was doomed to a coma. Or even during her current state. That could explain all of the deaths around here. But you were brought out of your thoughts when you saw the nurse head forward, her lips stretching into a small smile, the kind in which you dreaded. Bad news always followed afterward.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have any comatose little girls. It’s mostly old guys, and well,” She explained, her voice trailing off for a moment before she gave you all a sympathetic sort of look from whom she brought up next. “Callie. She’s been around since before I even started here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the name, “Callie?”

“Yeah. It’s so sad.” She said, frowning slightly. “Poor Dr. Garrison—he won’t give up on her.”

“Was Callie one of his patients?” Sam asked.

She shook her head. “His daughter.”

You looked over your shoulder and gave the brothers a sort of surprised expression from hearing the news you weren’t expecting. Since Callie had been here for a long period of time, like most coma patients, she had been assigned her own special room for privacy. The nurse had given you all the number she was staying in so you could see the state of the girl. It wasn’t hard to track down the family when you saw her name written near the open door. You peeked your head inside to see that Dr. Garrison was sitting at his daughter’s side, but who you saw lying in the bed wasn’t what you were expecting to see. Callie wasn’t a child—she was a teenager, and looked almost like the little girl you’d seen back at the other scene if she aged several years.

Dr. Garrison was reading to his daughter, almost caught up with the tale, until he looked up for a moment to see three pairs of different eyes staring at him. He closed the old looking book and quietly got up, giving his daughter’s hand a reassuring squeeze of his return before heading over to you. “Detectives,” He said, clearing his throat. “Can I help you?”

“We just heard that Callie is your daughter.” Sam said, gesturing a hand to the girl. “And we wanted to say how very sorry we are.”

“Well, uh, thank you.” Dr. Garrison mumbled, seeming taken back. He looked at you three with an awkward sort of smile before he pointed for the hallway. “If you excuse me.”

“Oh, we’re heading this way. We’ll walk with you.” Dean said, stepping backward so the man could slip past him, but he followed next to the man as he gave the doctor a smile. You dreaded the word walk, your legs beginning to bother you even more. But you knew if the boys suspected even an ounce something was wrong they’d have you shipped back off to the motel to rest. “How long has Callie been like that?”

“We don’t mean to intrude.” You spoke up, giving Dean a look before focusing your attention back on the doctor that was standing in front of you. “We can’t possibly understand how hard it must be for you seeing her like this.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy.” He admitted. “She, uh, been here since she was eight years old.”

You thought Dean was the one for bold questions, but it seemed his brother wasn’t afraid of asking things that cut right to the chase. “That’s when she was poisoned?” He wondered, and it seemed the doctor didn’t mind to answer, seeming to think it was common knowledge around this place. If Callie was playing Snow White, someone poisoned her.

“Yeah, swallowed bleach.” Dr. Garrison said, beginning to walk back down the halls with you and he brothers following on his heels. “Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her, brought her to the E.R. here, and I was on call.”

“Your wife, was that Callie’s stepmother?” Dean asked, pushing for more information.

Dr. Garrison was quiet for a few moments. He glanced over at the man before answering the question. “Actually, yes. How’d you know that?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders as you gave him a slight smile, mumbling something about a lucky guess. “Well, Julie was the only mother that Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year, and uh, it’s just been my daughter and me now. She’s all I got left.” He drifted off in thought for a moment, before he realized that he’d spilled all of this, he gave you all a look. “Um, excuse me. I’ve got to get back to work.”

You nodded your head and stepped out of the way, giving him just enough room to slip past all of you and walk down the hall. It was clear enough you were heading in the right direction with Callie presuming was the girl you were looking for. She was older than whom you saw back at the house. But you almost could picture her looking like that now. You and the boys walked down the halls, dodging nurses and other staff that tended to their patients.

“Well, you’re right, Y/N.” Dean said, you looked over at the man when you turned the corner of the hall. “It’s Snow White in spades.”

“Yep. Stepmom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep.” Sam agreed. “What’s the motive?”

“It could be like Mischa Barton. ‘Sixth Sense,’ not ‘The O.C.’” Dean suggested a theory, but it ended with you and his brother looking at him with the most confused expression. “Hey, you know fairy tales. I know movies. She played the pasty ghost. Remember the mom had that thing, you know, when you keep the kid sick you get all the attention?”

“Oh, yeah. Munchausen syndrome by proxy. Could be.” You said, understanding what he was hinting. Stepmothers in movies and tales had always been written as selfish, attention seekers. “She poisons Callie enough to make her slip into a coma, the husband comforts her in the time of need. Poor girl is stuck here.”

“So, say, all these years Callie’s been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth of what Mommy dearest did.” Dean said, leading all of you to suspect of what’s been going on.

Sam nodded his head, “And after all this time, her spirit just gets angrier until it finally just starts lashing out. Meanwhile, she has to listen to her dad tell her deranged stories about a rabid wolf ora cannibalistic old lady. It’s enough to drive anybody nuts.”

“Okay, but, how are we gonna stop her?” You asked the dreaded question. “Callie’s stuck here and her father’s keeping her body alive.”

Dean knew you had a point there, “That does make it hard to burn the bones.”

You rolled your eyes from the man’s comment, but soon enough, your attention shifted to the chaos that was about to unfold. You looked over to the entrance of the hospital just at the right time to see paramedics come rushing into the place with a woman on the gunnery, bruised and bloody as she was wheeled off the emergency room. Overhearing the conversation between the doctor and paramedics, she was an elderly woman that had been attacked with teeth marks on her neck. One had suspected an animal attack, but you were beginning to fear something more sinister was the cause

“What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?”

“Little Red Riding Hood.”

+ + +

It took only less than fifteen minutes before the woman was pronounced dead from blood loss and her head wounds. You stood outside in the halls to see the doctor drape over the white sheet to cover her body. It was a terrible thing to have witnessed, but if this was like the original fairy tale, you knew someone else was in harm’s way from whatever caused this. You and the brothers headed over to one of the paramedics who had been handling the call, but was now spending a moment of privacy to fill out all the proper documents before she would be shipped off to the coroner’s until someone claimed the body.

“Excuse me.” Sam spoke up first, getting the man’s attention. The paramedic glanced up to see three badges hovering in his eyesight before looking up at the youngest Winchester to see what he needed. “Was she the only victim?”

“She was found by the side of the road, barely alive.” He explained. “Alone.”

“We need to find her next of kin.” Dean said.

The paramedic flipped through the papers until he found it, “She has a granddaughter.”

“Do you have an address?” Dean asked. The paramedic ripped the sheet off his clipboard, giving it to him to inspect. You followed behind the oldest brother when he began reading off the information to see where the other girl was. If you had remembered the story correctly from the last time you read it, the granddaughter would be next. The wolf dressed up as the grandmother and followed her into the house before he got ready to eat her. All of you headed to a more secluded spot to go over a plan. “Sam, find a way to stop Callie.”

“What are you and Y/N gonna do?” Sam asked.

“Y/N is gonna help me get the granddaughter out. And I’m gonna go stop the big bad wolf.” He said. You furrowed your eyebrows, he seemed to have caught himself and how strange it was to say. Even in this line of work, and you’ve heard a lot. “Which is the weirdest thing I’ve ever said. But, Y/N, you feel okay enough to tag along? Or do you wanna stay here with Sammy.”

You rolled your eyes, shrugging off the ache in your throat and feeling in your feet. There would be time later in the way to figure out what the hell was going on. You had a wolf to hunt before he could make another fairytale story end with the brothers grimm version. Less dead bodies, the better on your conscious later in life.

+ + +

Finding the location of where the granddaughter was seemed too easy. You and Dean pulled up to the house after searching for the route before leaving the hospital. It was agreed that you were solely there to get the girl out alive, Dean would be hunting down the big bad wolf. You shoved the loaded gun into the back of your jeans before you slipped of the Impala and followed behind Dean and headed for the front door. You tired to see it was unlocked, but to your dismay, the door wouldn’t budge. Dean didn’t seem to think that was a problem because before you knew it, he whipped out his gun and forced upon the door by swinging his leg forward and kicked it open.

Dean was the first one to step inside; he cautiously inspected every inch of this place before you snuck inside after him. You could hear nothing but silence as you stepped inside the home. It wasn’t something you were fond of, knowing danger liked to keep people guessing of when it was going to creep up next. You followed behind as Dean continued on searching for the little girl, until you spotted her just across the room, where she laid crouched on the floor, hiding behind a piece of furniture to safety.

The both of you headed over to her, but still making sure to see anyone that was playing the role of the big, bad wolf. You could see a small abrasion on her cheek, a bit bloody, but other than that, she seemed unharmed. As you opened your mouth to ask if she was okay, you suddenly could feel yourself beginning to panic. You had no voice. Swallowing slightly in nervousness, you tried again, but no sort of sound was coming out. Dean’s face dropped with dread, but he knew there was little time to waste. He ushered to to take the little girl outside, but before either one of you could get this plan started, her screams made you almost jump out of your skin.

You looked over your shoulder just in time to see the wolf himself. He wasn’t exactly pleased to see two hunters, and he was showing it when he grabbed you by the back of the neck, pulling you up to your feet before he was throwing you across the room like a ragdoll. You slid on the wooden floors, crashing your head against something rough and hard, probably the table which felt like it was made out pure stone. It took you a moment to get yourself back into consciousness from the blow. You could hear the sounds of small feet running across the floor and all sorts of things breaking around you from the fight that seemed to have been going on between the two men.

After getting yourself back into a sitting position, you managed to see that the little girl had made it to safety when you saw the front door was wide open. The room seemed eerily quiet, almost making you wonder if everything was done–if Dean had won this battle. You forced yourself to stand on your feet and figure out what was going on. As you looked over your shoulder to find Dean, you caught someone else staring at you from across the room–it was Callie. She was looking at you with a sort of half smirk, like she was amused from what was going on. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering why she acting like this toward you. It was only a second later until you got your answer. She was playing two different fairy tales at once, she’d been all along, and she was going to finish when you ruined the other one.

“Let’s go, princess.” Suddenly you realized the man had appeared again when you felt his breath tickle in the crook of your neck. You didn’t know where he had come from, and from what he did next, you had no fighting chance. “Fishes need their water.”

You could feel pair of arms wrap around your waist, lifting you up from the ground like you were nothing to them but a sack of flour. You tried your hardest to fight back. But you couldn’t scream, you lost your weapon back in the previous attack and this man seemed stronger than you. He carried you from the living room to the kitchen, ignoring your fingernails that dug into his skin and your kicks to the air that didn’t seem to make it easier to squirm out of his grip. He held you tighter as you found yourself nearing the sink. You could see all sorts of utensils lying out on the counter, giving you a brief thought that you could get out of this. But it seemed he wasn’t going to let you out of this just yet, because before you knew it, he was fisting one hand into your hair and slamming your head into the freezing cold water that was filled in the sink. Grandma had been doing dishes before she left, thinking to finishing the task later. But she probably wasn’t expecting someone to be drowned in it.

Panic was one of the first emotions that you triggered yourself into. You gasped for whatever breath you were hoping to find from the freezing temperature, but you knew it was a mistake. You fought back in the man’s grip, trying your hardest to bend yourself forward to a better standing position, but all he did was push your head farther into the water. Your eyelids were pressed together tight as they could as your fingers roughly took ahold of the countertop, knuckling it until they must’ve turned white. This was too familiar to you, the burning inside your lungs that was getting worse with each passing second. You tried calming yourself with a past memory.

You remembered the breathing contests you used to do with Dean back when you were kids. During the summer before you left, you and him would spend afternoons at the community pool, always at the shallow end. to dunk yourself underwater to see how long either one of you could go before admitting defeat. When you were underwater, everything seemed so quiet. The noises coming from the kids and chatter from parents disappeared, you were in your own world. You got up after your lungs felt like they were on fire. Dean was always pouting because you won, again.

You could feel your grip on the counter become even worse when you felt the familiar burning ache rest inside your lungs suddenly make your chest feel like it was on fire . Your instincts were screaming for you to get up, but you knew you couldn’t fight him off. Seconds felt like hours, and your grip was beginning to loosen from the counter as you slowly gave in to losing the fight. You could feel yourself succumbing to the darkness as your arms limped against your side. So, this is how you were going to die. People always said drowning was one of the most peaceful ways to go. It was panic for a moment, before you slipped out of consciousness. Your eyelids were pressed so hard together anymore, now. You couldn’t feel the pain anymore, all you were left it was a fuzzy sort of feeling, not sure if you were really out of it until it was too late.

Your body slowly slid off the counter and onto the floor as the man stepped back when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Dean was conscious himself again, and was ready to fight again. He grabbed a pair of scissors from the grandmother’s yarn kit as he stalked forward, getting ready to stab the man straight in the heart for what he’d done. But it seemed that everything had shifted back to normal in the blink of an eye. Dean was suddenly hearing the man plead for his life as he threw his hands up in deat. He furrowed his eyebrows as he looked to see if Callie was there, but she was gone. He looked over at the man, who was staring at Dean like a lost puppy as he began mumbling and apologizing when he saw your limp body on the floor.

“Get out!” Dean barked at the man. He could see the fear in his eyes, knowing what he’d done. But it was because of the little girl, he was just playing the role. Dean threw the scissors and got off the man, who didn’t waste anytime scurrying to his feet and head for the open front door. He let out a breath through his nose, finding only a split second of comfort before his attention shifted to you, where you still laid, almost lifeless looking. He crawled across the floor before he was near you, fearfully looking for your next breath. He could feel the panic rising in his bones. “God, Y/N. Don’t do this. Don’t do this.”

Dean leaned down and pressed his ear against your chest, desperately wanting to feel some sort of movement, any noise, but there was nothing. He began mumbling swear words underneath his breath as he tried to figure out what to do. But before he could let another second pass, he shoved a hand inside his pocket, pulling out his phone. Sam had been at the hospital, talking to Dr. Garrison, he would know what to do. His brother answered on the second ring, and before he could say anything, Dean cut him off.

“She’s not breathing, Sammy.” Dean rushes out the words as his fingers run through his hair.Sam asks something, wondering who he’s talking about. "I-It’s Y/N. The guy—he tried drowning her in the sink. She’s not breathing. There’s no heartbeat. What do I do?”

He heard the phone being shifted from one person to another, and a second later, the familiar voice of Dr. Garrison filled his ears. The doctor had calmed him down long enough to give him simple enough instructions of how to do compressions, something he thought would get you breathing again. Dean shifted the phone down to the floor as he tried remembering the directions just right to get this started. His fingers waved themselves together and he placed them on your upper chest, pressing down in rhythm, counting perfectly from what the doctor told him to do. He held his breath for a moment as he finished doing the set, Dean leaned down and hovered over your mouth, waiting to hear you coughing. But all he was greeted was with silence.

He snatched the phone from the ground and pressed it back to his ear, "It didn’t work. She’s not breathing. You said it would work.” He growled at the man, beginning to lose himself in the thought you were going to die. “Tell me there’s another way, doc.”

“There is. If the chest compressions didn’t have her coughing, try breathing into her lungs, see if that will help.” Dr. Garrison said, explaining the steps next. “I want you to tilt her head back and pinch her nose. Take a normal breath, and put your mouth around hers, and let that breath go. It will help until the paramedics show up. I got my best guys heading there in a few.”

Dean swallowed slightly as he glanced down at you, of course, mouth to mouth would be the next step. He could feel a sense of awkwardness shift over himself for a moment, this wasn’t something he’d expecting to be doing when he got up this morning. But you weren’t breathly, barely lingering on to life. And he be damned to let you take the plunge before he did.

He placed the phone back down on the ground and placed two fingers beneath your chin and lifted it upward so it was pointing to the ceiling. He took the other and made sure your mouth was open just enough for him to get this correct. He sucked in the deepest breath he could muster up and finally made himself lean down, getting closer with you than he’d ever thought in his entire life.

Weird, this is so weird.

You could feel your eyelids slowly fluttering open as you were being pushed back into consciousness again. You weren’t sure what was going on, but you knew for certain you were freezing cold, and wet. Someone was strangely close. You swore someone was putting their lips on yours, trying do something that was unclear. It was a moment before you were back into reality, a gasp of breath finally settling in your lungs as you quickly snapped your eyes open. to see a familiar face lingering ever so close to yours. Without thinking about it, you quickly shoved the man off you, rending yourself into a sitting position as you pressed your palms against the slippery floors.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!” You were almost screaming at Dean, but before you could even finish your thought, you were suddenly hit with a coughing fit. You choked back out some water, letting it stain even more of your shirt. But when you realized you could speak again, no ache or scratchiness to your tone. If that was okay, you wondered about something else. You pushed yourself to a standing position, almost waiting to feel any sort of pain, but you were rendered back to normal. A small scoff escaped your throat, “I’m okay. I feel fine.”

“You’re welcome.” Dean’s tone was full of sarcasm, but you could see the relief flooding back into his emotions. “But I don’t get, I thought you were sick. Your voice, I mean, no offence, didn’t sound so pretty. What’s with the sudden miracle?”

You think about that answer for a moment, beginning to wonder that for yourself. Ever since you got here, you’ve been feeling strange from the painful walking to the ache in your throat. You thought you were just getting sick, but you wondered if it was something more. “I got worse when I saw Callie. But then we came here, ruined her fun. That’s when I lost my voice.” You said, seeming to understand what was going on. “What if I wasn’t getting sick? What if I was her next victim?”

Dean’s eyebrows furrowed, “So you’re saying you’re supposed to be…”

“The Little Mermaid.” You said, seeming to find the connection when you thought more about it, how familiar they were. “She sells her soul in order to grow a pair of legs to make the prince she saved to fall in love with her. She loses her voice in the process and walking ends up feeling like she’s stepping on knives.”

“And this story doesn’t end with her getting the man?” He asks. You nod your head. “And since all of these fairy tales end up with someone dying, what really happens to Ariel?”

“She drowns by throwing herself off the ship. All because she can’t be the man she loves.” You said, explaining what you remembered about the story. You lick your lips, knowing the connection was clear enough to see. This wasn’t about romance, it was about what you wanted. "Maybe it could have been avoided if the man wasn’t stubborn, and he could see the options that he had that were staring right in his face.”

“Maybe she was tired of fighting for what she could never have.” Dean said, making you look at him with tension building in your chest. “Maybe she just wanted to let go. That’s the only thing you should learn from this, Y/N. Sometimes you can’t get your way. Just leave it alone.”

You knew Dean was trying to explain it even more clearly now; he didn’t want to change anything, he didn’t want you to die for him. He didn’t want you to even try and get him out of this deal. The man was just going to lay down and handle what was coming to him. You could hear sirens coming from the outside as they got louder, coming in your direction. Dean barely could give you a smile before he walked forward, looking down at you one more time before he headed outside, leaving you alone for a moment with your thoughts.

+ + +

“You could have died back there. Sorry for doing the right thing!” You hear Dean shout the excuse at you, making the anger fueling itself inside your chest only grow stronger. You and the boys had arrived back from the hospital after speaking to Dr. Garrison and making sure that things were tightly wrapped up, and when they were, everyone was on their way. But all it took was one look and the both of you were at each other’s throats. It had been nonstop remarks of who was right or wrong in this situation, leaving Sam stuck in the middle, not sure who was right. You stepped inside the motel room after the youngest brother unlocked the door. A hand reached out to hold the door as you saw Dean come last, but before he could step inside, you used all your might and tried slamming the door on his face. Dean managed to catch on what you were doing, quickly sticking his foot in the doorway with his foot. “Real cute, Y/N! Keep acting like a spoiled brat.”

“Right. Because you’re such a perfect child. Everyone should learn from you!” You hissed underneath your breath, walking over to one of the beds and plopping yourself down. Swinging a leg to rest over the other, you begin roughly taking off your shoes to throw them across the room for now. “All I’m saying I could solve everything if you just left me–”

Dean let out a frustrated sigh, obviously growing tired of this argument as his hands rubbed down his face. It had been going on for too long. All he wanted you to do was to drop everything. “I told you, Y/N. I’m not having this conversation again. Drop it–or else.”

Your lips stretched into a smirk from his threat as you stand up from the bed, your hands dropping to rest on your waist. “Or else, what? No matter what you try, it doesn’t solve anything. My deal doesn’t go away. What if something were to happen on a hunt and you or Sam weren’t there to save me, huh? You can’t spend the rest the year trying to protect me.“

"I can try, dammit!” Dean yells at you, making you stop for a moment from the tone of his voice. He lets out a sharp breath, knowing his temper is getting the best of him. “It’s not yours or Sammy’s place to always try and protect me. That’s my job. You can’t just go throwing your life away because of what I did. Ella didn’t do what she did to end up like her, burning in Hell for nothing.”

You open your mouth to protest with another fact he seemed to have forgotten, but before any of the words could come out, he’s taking the high road. You watch as he snatches his jacket that was once discarded on a chair and snatches the keys to the Impala with his other hand. Sam emerges from the bathroom he’d been hiding in when he discovered the room became eerily silent. The both of you watch as Dean heads for the door, swinging it open and slipping out, only before slamming it roughly to make the entire room shake. Sam looks at you for a moment before he follows after his brother, knowing there has to be explanation beneath all of this.

When the room is nothing but silence, you are left feeling nothing short of guilt from how you made everything turn out. You let out a frustrated sigh and run your fingers through your hair, slowly pacing around the room. Deep down, you knew Dean was right about everything. But you didn’t want him to die. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t all of this be solved without anyone important dying?

“Are Mommy and Daddy fighting again?” You flinch when you hear the familiar voice coming from behind you, it’s Ruby. You force yourself to stand around to see the young blonde is staring at you with a smirk and her arms crossed over her chest. You just roll your eyes, not in the mood to hear her remarks. “Come on, don’t pout. It’s not cute.”

“Leave me alone. I’ve got more important things to do than exchange gossip with a demon. No, wait, that came out wrong.” You said, stopping in your tracks as you made you way across the room. “I don’t trust something like you. No matter how far I could throw your skinny ass.”

Ruby mocks your comment by letting out a fake laugh and smiles for a moment. “I know about your master plan–get yourself killed, take Dean’s place. I helped move things along back there, free of charge.” She says, making you stop in confusion, wanting to know what’s going on. “So I might have suggested the old Doc to read a certain story and, well, suggested that guy to drown you. A thank you would be appreciated, Y/N.”

It’s your turn to smile and let a scoff out from her remark, “Right. Do you want me to bend down and kiss your ass while I’m at it? But it seems you’re not that smart. I’m still breathing.”

“Thanks to Dean. I didn’t count on Prince Charming to be handsome and smart.” Ruby remarks, you narrow your eyes at her. “So your little plan didn’t go through like you wanted. But I told you before, Y/N. I can get out of this deal without anyone else dying. I helped you out. Now, can you return the favor?”

+ + +

You shuffled around the motel room quiet as you could, making sure to avoid any squeaky spots on the floor and zippered your duffel bag extra slow after you fetched some new clothes. It was almost three in the morning and you were going out for a little ride. The boys were still passed out in their beds, not even stirring after accidentally closing the bathroom door behind you. Sam shouldn’t be the one to risk himself into the crossfires of these deals, he was the reason you and Dean were playing this little game between one another. You shoved whatever tools you needed inside your bag, making sure conceal the colt you’d snuck from Dean’s bag and into yours before heading for the front door, the keys quietly jingling in your hand.

As you reached out your free hand to touch the doorknob, you heard the sound of sheets ruffling around, making you freeze in your spot. You swallowed slightly as you looked over your shoulder, almost expecting to see either brother sitting up in bed, giving you a disapproving glare. But Sam was passed out, his back turned to the door. Dean was the one shuffling around in bed, turning from one side to the other. From the moonlight creeping through the cracks in the curtains, you could see his facial expressions shift around for a moment, almost expecting to almost like he could tell something was wrong, but you watched as he slowly drifted back off to slumber.

You swallowed and let out a quiet sigh. If you only had been honest to him earlier. You wondered if you told him about how much you didn’t really want him to die, how painful it would be on everyone to lose someone like Dean. But you feared that he wouldn’t listen. You got him stirred around when you admitted the deal you’d took to take his place. Maybe if you came back from this little deal with everything gone, maybe he would finally understand how much you couldn’t stand the idea of living without him.

+ + +

Finding a spot wasn’t the hard part, it was getting yourself out of the car and summoning the demon that had you full of dread. You thought about this, wondering if this was the right thing to do. This idea had been brought on by another demon, and while Ruby seemed to have been full of advice and great plans, you still didn’t know if she were trustworthy. But there was no way Sam was going to do this, and if he found out you chickened last second, he was gonna do this himself without batting an eye. You let out a breath and forced your hands off the steering wheel, making sure to grab the colt and the small tin box full of everything to summon a crossroads demon.

You wandered off from the side of the road you parked on, kicking the door shut with your hip as you looked directly at the streets not far from where you were standing. It was the perfect crossroad you’d spent almost all night googling just to find when you got home. You walked forward, judged the sight for a few moments before you crouched on the gravel, dropping the tin box to your side and began digging a decent size hole. You grabbed the box with your free hand and stared down at it for a moment. Well, let’s hope third time’s really the charm.

You pushed yourself up from the ground after covering the hole and brushed off the dirt on your pants, waiting to hear a familiar voice. A moment passed, making your nerves beginning to grow even more with anticipation, or dread. You wondered if they weren’t going to do anything, they were just going to make you deal with the consequences. Peering over your shoulder, you let out a sigh when you saw that nobody was around for miles. Maybe you really need to just lay in your bed and face what was coming ahead for the both of you.

“Well, if it isn’t the infamous Ms. Y/N.” The sudden voice sent off guard, making you quickly turn around to see a young woman standing in front of you. She was staring at you with a familiar shade of crimson eyes, and a curious smirk to match. “Your little friend has been here to see me twice, but you, what a pleasure. What can I do for you, Y/N?”

Your lips stretched into a smirk as your fingers slowly inched around the colt before you whipped it out, pointing it directly at the demon, "You can start by begging for your life.”

“We were having such a nice conversation, Y/N.” She said, her eyes flickering to her host’s natural color. Her smile faltered to a frown from what you were pulling on her, “I was gonna be nice and see what I could for you. Rumored had it you were itching to jump into the pit. I was feeling generous enough to see what strings I could pull. But then you had to go and ruin the mood.”

"If I were you,” You suggested to the demon with a threatening tone, standing your ground of what you were here for. “I would stop with the wisecracks and start getting scared.”

“It’s not my style. And that’s not the original colt. Where did you get that, Y/N?” She asked, her eyes peering down to the gun you were holding near her chest. You keep quiet, not ready to give your answer, but it seems she already knows the answer when her face drops into frustration as the name slips out of her mouth. “Ruby. Had to be. She is such a pain in my ass. She’ll get what’s coming to her. You can count on it.”

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to waste your time out here in the freezing cold hearing this demon speak about the bad blood between her and Ruby. You wouldn’t trust the woman, no matter what promises she made or plans she hatched out, knowing there was something else she had to be planning. But knowing she wasn’t in good terms with her own people began to make you wonder, just maybe, she was really trying to help you and the boys out. “That’s enough. I didn’t travel all the way out here to listen to this little bitch fight between demons. I came here to make you an offer.”

“You’re going to make me an offer? That’s adorable.” She remarked with a growing smirk.

“You can let Dean out his deal right now. He lives, I live, Sammy lives. And even your snotty gets to see another day to take some unfortunate bastards soul away so Hell doesn’t get cold. Everyone goes home happy. Or,“ You speak your terms, your thumb pushing down on the safety before you position the barrel again. "You stop breathing. Permanently.”

The demon keeps quiet for a moment as she thinks over your offer. Her fingers slowly twine together as you see her beginning to take slow steps, but the gun never leaves her path. “Oh. All this tough talk. It’s almost like you’re trying to be your daddy.” You can feel your finger twitch against the trigger from what she says, but it’s not enough pressure to set it off. “I got to tell you, it’s not very convincing. I mean, come on, Y/N. Do you even want to break this deal?”

"What do you think?” You ask her.

“I don’t know. You’re giving me mixed signals, Y/N.” She said, turning around to face you. “You sold your soul to take his place, but now you’re here, bargaining to make it all go away. Aren’t you tired of cleaning up Dean’s messes, of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren’t you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed child he thinks you are? I know you don’t like it, because if you did, you would have listened to him like a good girl.” You let out a small laugh, rolling your eyes from the words she was speaking. “You’re stronger than Dean. You’re better than him.”

Your lips stretched into a forced smirk, “Honey, I’ve got a loaded gun in my hands and nothing to lose if I accidentally pull the trigger. I suggest you watch your mouth.”

“Admit it–you’re here, going through the motions, you made that deal because you were upset and scared. But you’ve had time to think about it.” The demon said, walking forward to you, only slightly. “But the truth is, you’ll be a tiny bit relieved when he’s gone. No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. He’s not the man you once thought he was. You can finally be free from that pathetic excuse of a man.”

“All right, I’ve had enough of your crap.” You said, cutting her off. “You let Dean out his deal now.”

The demon shook her head, while she decided to take another step, you followed her every move like a hawk. "Sorry, sweetheart, but your best friend’s an adult. He made that deal of his own free will, fair and square. It’s ironclad.”

“Every deal can be broken. Or twisted around.” You said. From the research that you’d done and your own past history, you thought she was lying about it. “Trust me, I know.”

“Not this one.” She says with a defiant tone.

You can feel your anger beginning to rise, “Fine. Then I’ll kill you. If you’re gone, the deal’s gone.“

"Oh sweetheart, guess again.” She said. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not sure where she’s going with this. “Y/N, I’m just a saleswoman. I got a boss like everybody. He holds the contract, not me. He wants Dean’s soul bad. And believe me, he’s not gonna let it go.”

“You’re bluffing.” You muttered underneath your breath.

She gave you a curious look, “Am I? Shoot me, if it will get you off, but the deals still holds. Unless you wanna give me the gun, Y/N. And I’ll be happy to pull the trigger so you can take his place. But I know he’s watching over you like a hawk and time’s ticking away. Kind of makes it hard to throw yourselves to the wolves. But when his year is up, whether it’s you or Dean, someone’s getting dragged into the pit. Who knows. Maybe it’ll be the both of you.”

“And who’s your boss?” You ask the demon, lowering the gun to your side for a moment you come across as calm. If you showed her you weren’t going to harm her, maybe she would answer some questions. “Who holds our contracts?”

“He’s not as cuddly as me, I can tell you that.”

“Who is it?”

Your tone of voice is coming across more demanding and threatening than she expected. You raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for the answer. “I can’t tell you.” She said. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but there’s no way out of this one—not this time. And before you try and persuade me, there’s no way I’m getting your blood on my hands. I don’t kill clients. You understand, right? It’s bad for business.”

A sigh escapes your lips from the stress that crosses your mind for a moment, but you can feel it being replaced when you glance down at the gun still in your grip. Nobody would have to know, it’s not like anyone would miss her. And Ruby said you should kill her, demons lie all the time. You don’t waste another second before you reach your arm up and point the gun at the demon—and before you realize it, your finger pushes itself against the trigger. The sudden triumph emotions fill your insides, the ones that you felt when you killed Jake, roars to life when you see the body drop to the ground. You can feel the slightest smirk spread across your lips from what you’d done.

+ + +

Dean shifts around in bed for what felt to be the fifth time tonight, or for the past hour as time shifts to two a.m. He drifts into consciousness for a moment to hear the sounds of his brother softly snoring and the distant howl of the wind. It takes him a moment to settle back into the sheets, but the sudden bark sends his eyelids ripping themselves open, wondering if the noise came from the dog he’d seen before heading inside the motel. Or maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t careful enough back there. Maybe they were coming for you. Dean pushes himself up into a sitting position in bed and looks over at the couch for a moment, wanting to see something in the rumbled sheets move or something. But nothing happens.

It’s almost comical to see him acting like a frightened child when he reaches out a hand to rip the sheets off his body, wanting to make sure you’re all right. He swings his legs out of bed and stands for a moment, taking in the silence. Still, he doesn’t see the sheets move. Dean swallows slightly before he begins walking to the couch, wanting to make sure everything is okay. He’s pretty sure that you’re sound asleep, dreaming of puppies and rainbows. It always seems you get better sleep when you’re not alone. He reaches out a hand to touch your shoulder, and while he feels something like skin and bone touch his hand, it doesn’t react when he moves it around.

Like a bad habit he picked up from you, he nervously licks his lips and tries again, wanting to feel your hand smack his own away as you mutter something about sleep you’d been desperately needing for days now. Still, there’s nothing. He draws in a breath and makes himself draw a fistful of the blankets.Counting down in his head, he decides to rip the blankets off your body.


Dean rips the blankets off the couch quick as he could, but what he sees underneath isn’t a sight he expected to see. It makes his knees go weak in the worst way possible and his heart skip a few beats from the panic that rushes through his veins. The sheets that he holds are sticky and heavy feeling. From what he can see from the full moon shining through the curtains it’s clear to see the substance soaked inside the blankets is a crimson color he knows too well. It’s blood. It’s your blood. Dean is faced with the gruesome sight of you staring at him with an open mouth, eyes glazed over with fear, but as he looks down, the sight is only getting worse. Your pajamas are shredded with clear marks that dig deep into your skin, everything is covered in blood. He drops the blankets in fright when he realizes what’s going on.

“Son of a bitch.” The sudden hushed, female voice echos through the motel room making Dean jump out his nightmare to realize he’s lying in bed. His eyelids drift open for a moment to inspect what’s going on, while his hand slowly drifts under the pillow to touch the weapon he always keeps around for nights like this. Across the room is you, standing halfway in the tiled bathroom floors and crouched over on the carpet, tending to the throbbing pain settling in your shin after accidentally knocking into the wooden door frame. You managed to be quiet all this time, sneaking back into the motel and placing the colt back where Ruby told you where it would be, shoving the keys back into Dean’s jacket. Of course, a freaking door frame was going to be your downfall.

You drop your leg back down to the ground, deciding to toughen it out and head back to bed with your dirty clothes shoved back into your side. Quietly trailing across the floor, you make it to the couch where your duffel bag still lays open for a moment. You bend down to shove your clothes back into the bag, your back turning to the rest of the room to finish the task. As you finish up, you stand up and turn around, only to be faced with a shadowy figure lingering over you. Your instincts are screaming to react, but you catch something familiar as your face scrunches up in confusion when you realize who it is.

Dean is standing in front of you with a stern expression with his arms crossed over his chest. You freeze up for a moment in fear he realized what you done. He was serious about you getting involved, and you knew he’d drive all night to commit to that promise of banning you from hunting until this deal is done. And from what you did to the demon, you had a feeling her friends weren’t going to be very happy, either. But when he opens his mouth, you feel yourself almost wanting to let out a pitiful laugh from how worked up you were getting yourself. His hand reaches out to tug at the sleeve of the shirt you were wearing for bed, something you snatched out of the deeper depths of your bag. The over sized button down you didn’t remember stealing months ago was Dean’s. It was always a bad habit of yours to steal his shirts on days when you didn’t have any clothes clean for bed. But when you look at him in the eye, your eyebrows furrowed, it almost looks like he woke up from a bad dream.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

You raise your eyebrows, “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“You caught me off guard. I thought you were an intruder.” Dean says, brushing off your concern with a lie you don’t buy into. “That’s all.”

“And this isn’t about the conversation we had before?” You ask him, getting straight to the point. Dean seems caught off guard from your question as he looks at you with a weary look, not wanting to start another fight tonight. “Look, I just want to say I’m sorry. Maybe you were right.”

“I know I’m right.” Dean remarks quickly, making you smile ever so slightly. “But maybe I overreacted back there. I know you just wanna help, Y/N. Just not by taking my place, you don’t deserve that. Nobody does.”

“Then what makes you the exception?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask.

Dean keeps quiet for a moment, it’s like he’s trying to admit the truth, but he swallows it. “I’m not like you, Y/N. I don’t know what normal is. This is all I know. This is how I can help you and Sam. I wish things were different, Y/N. God, I wish they were. But you need to understand everything happens for a reason. Me going to hell is one of them. And you can’t stop it.”

Part of you wants to shake the man, tell him that he doesn’t deserve this. But before you can say anything, Dean turns around on his heels and heads for bed, mumbling something about you doing the same. You know there’s something deeper lined in his words, making you itch to figure out what it is. But you decide to listen to his advice for once, you head over to the couch you’d call a bed for tonight and rest your body for another dreaded night’s sleep.

Chapter Text

You stretched your arms over your head, trying your hardest to relax your tense muscles after a few hours of driving down the road. Nightfall had passed a while ago and there was almost nothing remotely interesting enough to talk about between you and the boys. Sam seemed distant off in his own world and you were beginning to wonder if the silence would last long enough for you to sneak in a small nap to make time pass even faster. You were still a state over from where the next case Sam picked out, and it never hurt to cash in some more sleep when you could. So you settled on the idea, snatching an abandoned coat from the other side of the car and stuffed it around like a pillow to rest your head. You leaned down and closed your eyes for a moment, letting the familiar growl of the engine sing you off to sleep for just a moment.

“So, I’ve been waiting since Maple Springs.” Dean’s voice sent your eyelids popping open, drawing everyone into a conversation from a simple question. You and Sam glanced over at each other for a moment, not sure what the older man wanted to discuss. “Either you got something to tell me?”

“It’s not your birthday.”

“Happy Purim?”

“There’s a bullet missing from the colt. You want to tell me how that happened?” Dean questioned the both of you. Sam seemed to have tensed up from the news as you fell silent, trying your hardest to avoid contact with either one of them. When Dean glanced in the rearview to try and make eye contact with you, all you did was shake your head. “I know it wasn’t me. And Sammy doesn’t have the balls to go against my back. So unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans when you snuck out the other night…” You swallowed, knowing what was going to come next. “You went after her, didn’t you, Y/N? The crossroads demon. After I told you not to.”

“Yeah, well, I was bored.” You sarcastically implied. “Felt like having a little shooting practice.”

Dean let out a sharp breath, obviously not amused. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

“But I didn’t.” You argued back.

“And you shot her.” Dean suspected, you rolled your eyes.

“Yes, Sherlock.” You said. “She was a smartass.”

Sam let out the most quietest cough he could muster up from your comment, knowing he might have founded it a bit more amusing than he should have. Dean tossed his little brother a glare before looking over at you, “So, what? Does that mean I’m out of my deal?”

“Don’t you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?” You asked, tilting your head to the head ever slightly. Dean glanced away from you and back at the road. “No. Someone else holds our contracts. And before you ask, she wouldn’t say.”

Dean let out the slightest scoff from your answer as he shook his head in disappointment. “Well, we should find out who. Of course,” He spoke up again, bringing a point that made you roll your eyes in annoyance. “Our best lead be the crossroads demon. Oh, wait a minute–”

“That’s not funny, Dean.” Sam said, trying to come to your rescue. “You’ve been on Y/N’s back since we left. It was my idea, anyway. She was just trying to help the best way she can.”

“No, it was a stupid freaking risk, and she shouldn’t have done it.” Dean argued back.

Sam looked over at his brother with his eyebrows furrowing together in frustration. “She shouldn’t have done it? We’re trying everything we can to help you. You’re my brother, Dean. And no matter what you do, we’re gonna try and save you.” He said, not seeming to try and hold back his emotions anymore. Dean shook his head, letting the faintest smile spread across his lips from the backlash he was getting. “And I’m sure as hell not gonna apologize for it, all right?”

Dean was stricken silent from everything that was said, leaving the conversation on the sour note between you three. You knew sleep wasn’t going to come naturally anymore from how he made your nerves stand on edge. But you still forced yourself to lean back and close your eyes, hoping your destination would come faster than ever to avoid another string of topics to make time pass.

+ + +

Another day, another case. You and the boys were inspecting a strange death involving a healthy young woman found dead in the shower. One might suspect a string of medical mysteries like an early heart attack or perhaps a hidden blood clot inside her body that caused her untimely death. All though, her official cause of death was something that made you fidget ever so slightly in your seat when discussing the notes with Sam–dry drowning. Something most commonly found in young children after spending a day at the beach. Somehow if a person swallow enough water it can travel into their lungs and sits there. Hours later, the water comes out they drown without notice and most likely die. But the young woman was nowhere near a body of water when she drown, and you never heard of someone drowning while taking a shower. So, you were on the case to find out what really was going on here.

The victim’s aunt was the first one you and the brothers decided to speak to, hoping to uncover some insight of what happened. She was an older woman that still seemed stricken from her niece’s untimely death, you could see her focus mostly kept on the picture of Shelia she kept cradled in her grip as she spoke to you all. "But I don’t understand.” She said, wanting to know why another string of officers were here. “I already went over all of this with the other detectives.”

“Right, yes. But, see, we’re with the sheriff’s department,” You said, trying to explain your cover to the woman. It seemed your jittery nerves were getting the best of you as you swallowed, giving her a bashful smile as you managed to correct yourself. “Not the police department–this is a different department.”

“So, Mrs. Case,” Sam said, bringing the conversation around again.

“Please.” She corrected the younger man. “Ms. Case.”

You could feel your lips stretching into the most subtle smirk you could manage when you saw Ms. Case beginning to eye Sam with much interest, the kind of look you seemed mostly in Dean when he saw a woman he liked. Sam was stricken silent for a moment as the faintest color of rosy pink blushed on his cheeks before he focused again. “Okay. Um, Ms. Case,” He said, clearing his throat before continuing. “You were the one who found your niece, correct?”

“I came home, she was in the shower.” She explained, her fingers tracing over the frame for a moment before she shook her head. “Now, you tell me, how can someone drown in the shower?”

“How would you describe Shelia’s behavior in the days before her death?” You asked the woman, but it ended with her staring at you like you’d just sprouted a second head. It was a natural reaction from most people you questioned, so you furthered a bit more in detail. “I mean, did she seem frightened? Maybe she said something out of the ordinary?”

Ms. Case stared at you three for a moment before her face brightened up, “Wait a minute. You’re working with Alex, aren’t you?”

You smiled at the mention of the unfamiliar name, but you were coming up blank for a cover. Sam and you glanced over at Dean, who always was the one that was quick for answers. “Yep. Absolutely.” He said, chuckling as he crossed his fingers together. “Alex and us, we’re like this.”

“Why didn’t you say so? Alex has been such a comfort.” Ms. Case said. She glanced over her shoulder to watch her steps as she took a seat on the chair beside her. She leaned over to put the picture back where she found it when you arrived. “But I’m sorry. I thought the case was solved.”

“Well, no. No, not yet.” Sam said, she nodded her head as the conversation was drawn back to the reason all of you were here. “So, anyways, we were talking about your niece. My partner mentioned something about her behavior before her death?”

“Well, yes. Sheila mentioned something quite strange before she died. She said she saw a boat.” Ms. Case explained. You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment as you repeated the woman’s answer. “Yes. One minute it was there, then it was gone. It just disappeared right before her eyes. You think it could be a ghost ship? Alex thinks it could be a ghost ship.”

You and the boys glanced over at one another from the suspicion, not sure what to make of it, but that was one lead that could explain the young woman’s strange death. Sam straightened out his shoulders and gave the woman a small, comforting sort of smile. "Well, uh, could be.” He said, not sure what else he could say about the mysterious boat. You had to make her think it was nothing, but you had a feeling that wasn’t on her mind anymore when she looked at Sam.

Ms. Case nodded her head for a moment as her lips stretched into a sort of smirk as she reached out a hand, your eyes widened ever so slightly when you saw them dip below to where Sam’s hands were causally resting. She placed out her index finger and continued speaking, only as she traced Sam’s own. “You let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.“ She said, her voice dropping to almost a whisper. You looked away for a moment as you placed a hand against your mouth, trying to cover up a laugh with a simple cough. "Anything at all.”

Dean cleared his throat and kept himself calm with everything that just happened. Poor Sam looked like a deer in headlights for a moment before he was forcing a polite smile at the woman, not sure what else he could have done at the moment. You quickly mumbled a thank you to the woman before you were off, not sure how much longer you could keep the laugh that was building up in your chest before it burst wide open. You had to admit one thing, that woman sure had more guts at flirtation than most people your age.

+ + +

“What a crazy, old broad.” You couldn’t help but comment, letting out another chuckle from the situation that happened not too long ago. You and the brothers were walking down the pier in the late afternoon, eyeing the docked boats and yachts. It seemed this town was big into enjoying the water, which might have made your job either harder or easier, depending on what you found.

“Why?” Sam asked, making your head turn to look at him. “Because she believes in ghosts?”

Your lips stretched into a smirk as you playfully jabbed him the side from how defensive he seemed to be getting. “Look at you, Sasquatch. Sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound.”

Sam rolled his eyes, obviously not amused. "Bite me.”

“Not if she bites you first. And I don’t think she’s the sharing type.” You joked again, making Dean let out a chuckle. Sam gave you a quick glare before you were changing the subject from the unfamiliar name brought into the conversation with the woman. “So, who’s this Alex? Do you think we have another player in town?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Sam suspected. “Doesn’t change our job.”

“And what looked like a ghost ship, right?” Dean asked, remembering what was mentioned.

Sam nodded his head, somehow managing to swing by the library after speaking to Ms. Case to figure out if there was anything suspicious about the town. You decided to stay back and enjoy a quick meal with Dean, not sure when you ate last. “Yeah. And it’s not the first one sighted around here, either.” Sam explained. “Every thirty seven years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship. Out in the bay. And every thirty seven years, a rash of weirdo, dry land drownings.”

“So, whatever’s happening is just getting started.” You suspected, Sam nodded his head. You kicked a small pebble you found on the wooden dock as you continued walking, trying to keep yourself from getting out of this case. It wasn’t like you to get squeamish about working, but death by drowning seemed to have a bit close to home. It’s not like it would happen to you again, you thought yourself. There was a job that needed to be done. “What’s the lore?”

“Well, there are a lot of apparitions of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman,” Sam said, listing off a new somewhat known names that registered in your mind. “Almost all of them are death omens.”

“So, you see the ship and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?” Dean asked, trying to make sense of what was going on. Sam shrugged his shoulders, seeming to understand of how everything was being drawn out so far. “Okay. What’s the next step?”

“We got to I.D. the boat.” Sam said.

You nodded your head, finding a bit relief from the easy load of research that was going to be, unlike most cases. “That shouldn’t be too hard.” You admitted. “I mean, how many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?”

“I checked that too, actually.” Sam nervously chuckled out. “Over a hundred and fifty.”

Your face dropped at the answer, not expecting to hear an enormous amount of work ahead for the both of you, Dean not included. You let out a small sigh before you followed behind the brothers, heading up the staircase to the streets where the Impala was parked. As you looked around at your surroundings once more in curiosity, you glanced back at the right time to see a strange sight you weren’t expecting. Dean’s precious car wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

“This is where we parked the car, right?” Dean asked, his tone the calmest it was going to be. You mumbled a yes, remembering the familiar scene as you glanced around for the Impala. But you were beginning to grow worried when nothing familiar was catching your eye. "Where’s my car?”

“Did you feed the meter?” You asked, trying to find an explanation before the worse unfolded.

“Yes, Y/N, I fed the meter.” He said. You gave him a look from his snarky remark, but just seconds later, the man was diving into a psychotic breakdown. His worst fears were beginning to come true as he wandered up to the pavement with you and his brother still standing around. “Sam, where’s my car? Somebody stole my car!” You rolled your eyes from how he was getting, but you told him to calm down, but he wasn’t in the mood as he frantically examined every single inch of the roads ahead. “I am calmed down! Somebody stole my ca–”

You were about to make another remark, but when he didn’t finish his sentence, you looked over your shoulder to see what had stopped him from his rants. The poor man pushed himself to the brink of a panic attack as he was bent over with each hand on his knees, trying his hardest to catch his breath. You quickly rushed over and placed your hands on his shoulder, trying your hardest to get him calmed down as you helped him through a normal breathing process. It seemed you were getting somewhere as the redness in his face calmed down, but the familiar voice that rang inside your ears made your nails dig into the man’s flesh.

“The ‘67 Impala? Was that yours?” Bela Talbot had impeccable timing to see everything unfold. Your eyes narrowed on the woman as she walked across the street, a smile spread across her lips from what she admitted next. “I’m sorry. I had that car towed.”

“You what?!” Dean hissed at the woman.

“It was in a tow-away zone.” Bela said. You scoffed at her answer, knowing very well she was lying, and sure enough from the smirk growing across her lips against, she sure was. “Well, it was when I finished with it.”

“What the hell are you even doing here?” You asked with annoyance.

Bela shrugged her shoulders, “A little yachting.”

Sam, always the one to catch onto things, seemed to know the real reason. “You’re Alex.” Sam said, knowing very well the woman was here for whatever scam she could get out of this ordeal. “You’re working with that old lady.”

“Gert’s a dear old friend.” Bela said.

“Yeah, right.” Dean said. “What’s your angle?”

“There’s no angle.” Bela explained, you narrowed your eyes at her. “There’s a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform seances so they can commune with their dead cats. And before you judge, the comfort I provide them is very real.”

Bela began to walk away from the three of you, making you shake your head in disbelief of how much she changed in the years that you’d known her. She used to be such a sweet child, but it seemed she wasn’t afraid to cause a little trouble to get what she wanted. “How do you sleep at night?” You asked her. She stopped in her tracks and turned herself on her heels, a smile spread across her lips from the answer that she provided.

“On silk sheets, rolling naked in money.” Bela said, you rolled your eyes in frustration. “Really, Y/N, I’d expect the attitude from Dean. But you? I thought Ella raised you to have manners.”

“You shot me.” You argued. “Sorry if I’m not treating you like family.”

“I barely grazed you.” She said. You let out a sarcastic chuckle as you shook your head, knowing very well she’d left you with a clean shot, through and through. “Cute. But a bit of a drama queen.”

"You do know what’s going on around here.” You said. “This ghost-ship thing, it’s real.”

“I’m aware. And thanks for telling Gert the case wasn’t solved, by the way.” Bela mumbled with annoyance, you furrowed your eyebrows at her. “She didn’t know that. Now the old bag’s stopped payment and she’s demanding some real answers. Look–just stay out of my way before you cause any more trouble. And I’d get to that car if I were you…before they find the arsenal in the trunk. Ciao, boys. Y/N.”

Your nose crinkled up when the conversation was wrapped up with Bela. She turned herself back around on her heels and was off, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You didn’t like how she changed over the years, and how she casually mentioned your mother. It was almost a comical thought to think that once you thought she was going to be real for those few months.

“Can I shoot her?” Dean grumbled out.

You shook your head, “Not in public.”

+ + +

If there was something out there Bela wanted, she would always find a way to get it. You and the brothers headed out in the late morning after discovering another suspicious drowning had been documented, connecting with the other one that happened not too long ago. Of course, you knew word traveled fast around here, and a certain someone was digging her teeth into trying to figure out what was going herself. She was speaking to the deceased man’s brother, probably using a reporter’s angle as she asked him questions, trying to get whatever information she could out of the man. Luckily you played a better role with more perks; you gave her a frown when you headed up to her, flashing your fake badge as you nodded your head backwards. She dropped her hand that was holding her tiny recorder and looked over your shoulder to see that you’d brought the whole team. She was outnumbered.

“Ma’am, I think this man’s been through quite enough.” You said, cutting the man off before he could answer anymore of her questions. “You should go. Please.”

“But I just have a few more questions.” Bela tried getting more time, but you shook your head and gave her the type of look that seemed to have worked well enough because the next thing you knew she was giving the man her farewells with a polite smile. “Thank you for your time.”

Bela wasn’t going to leave the three of you without tossing each of you a dirty glare as she passed by, which you returned with a triumphant smirk and a comment she could hear as she walked away. “Sorry you had to deal with that. They’re like roaches.” You said, your voice jumping slightly enough at the end so she could hear. You looked over your shoulder to see that she stopped for a moment, a scoff escaping before she went off, finally leaving you to interview the brother.

“So,” Sam spoke up next, bringing the conversation to the reason why you were here, but drawing attention to the last question Bela managed to ask before leaving. “We heard your brother saw a ship. Did he tell you what it looked like?”

The man thought about it for a moment, he reached up a hand to wipe his face from the tears he’d been crying from the discovery. He sucked in a breath before finally answering. “It was, uh, like the old Yankee Clippers. A smuggling vessel.” He explained, with so much detail it made you come across with surprise. Well, it made finding this ship a bit easier. “The rakish topsail, barkentine rigging. Angel figurehead on the bow.”

“That’s a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw.” Sam noted with curiosity.

“My brother and I were night diving.” He said, giving you another piece of information that wasn’t what you wanted to hear. Knowing the pattern, you didn’t have a good feeling about what was going to happen. “I saw the ship, too.”

But that piece of information seemed to have been the least of your worries for now when you glanced over your shoulder for just a split second. Your face dropped when you noticed that Bela had stuck around, and she was speaking to a few officers about something that wasn’t exactly helpful. She was pointing a finger at the both of you, probably being a helpful citizen and ratting all of you out. You cleared your throat, nudging Dean with your elbow slightly to let him know what was going on. It only took one a peek from him before Sam was giving the man a quick goodbye before the both of you were off, chasing another lead before the cops to figure out what really was going on here.

+ + +

From the description the man told you about the ship, it might have been enough to gloss over the others that Sam managed to find when first arriving into town. You were leaning against the side of the Impala, writing down the remaining details as the brothers kept themselves busy with loading up the shotguns with rock salt rounds for the long night they had ahead for them. As you glanced up for a moment when you heard unfamiliar footsteps coming from behind, you looked up to see an unwanted familiar face standing over with her arms crossed over her chest, examining the work that was being done, and only to destroy the concentration with an obvious statement.

“I see you got your car back.” Bela said.

Dean rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder as he locked the weapon into place. “You really want to come near me when I got a loaded gun in my hands?” He asked the woman.

“Now, now. Mind your blood pressure.” She mumbled, not amused from his passive threats. “Why are you even still here? Don’t you have enough to I.D. the boat?”

“That guy back there saw the ship.” Sam explained, tinkering around the last weapon before he tossed it back with the rest. Dean reached up a hand to shove the trunk shut as Bella raised her eyebrows, wondering why that detail was so important. “And he’s going to die, so we have to save him.”

Bela’s lips twitched into a smile, “How sweet.”

“You think this is funny?” You asked her.

“He’s cannon fodder.” She said, acting like all of this was nothing. “He can’t be saved in time, and you know it.”

You shook your head in astonishment from how pessimistic the woman was being. But you didn’t bother to respond, you closed your notebook shut and headed for the backseat, suddenly wanting to get out here before everything got ugly. “Yeah, well, see, we have souls,” Dean spoke up, following in your actions as he headed for the driver’s side. “So we’re gonna try.”

Personalities like Bela and Dean were doomed to crash together; they were both the type to try and have the last word, no matter the punches they tried pulling at one another. “Well, I’m actually gonna find the ship and put an end to this.” Bela declared, trying to make herself seem superior. The man stopped in his tracks, getting himself pulled into what she was saying. “But you have fun.”

“Hey, Bela, how’d you get like this, huh?” Dean asked. You could feel your fingers suddenly feel like they were wrapping themselves tight as they could around the handle of the door. Here we go, he was crossing the line without even knowing it. “What, did Daddy not give you enough hugs or something?”

“I don’t know. Your Daddy give you enough?” She asked, her tone was calm and cold all at the same time. Dean let out the smallest chuckle, obviously not offended from what she tried pulling. “Don’t you dare look down your nose at me. You’re not better than I am.”

Dean shook his head, “We help people.”

Bela let out a scoff from the excuse, turning it around to an insult on all of you. “Come on. You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You’re a stone’s throw from being a serial killer.” She said, eyeing the three of you. The grip on the handle loosened a bit as you could feel yourself beginning to head forward to the woman, but Sam managed to catch you, dragging you back into reality. “Whereas I, on the other hand, I get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me–which is healthier?

"Bela, why don’t you just leave?” Sam asked the woman, speaking up before either you or Dean could say anything else hurtful. “We’ve got work to do.”

“Yeah. You’re zero for two.” She said. “Bang-up job so far.”

You let out all your frustration out into a loud, sharp breath as you exhaled through your nose. Part of you wanted to stoop to her level and try to say something out of spite, but it wasn’t worth the effort. Sometimes you meet people in life that change, turning themselves into a nasty personality to get whatever they want, with no reason behind it. You just wanted this case over with, Bela becoming one of the few reasons why to your list.

+ + +

It had been sort of strange of how things happened; your mother wasn’t the type of person to open her doors for a complete stranger, due to her natural ability to create danger out of nothing. You were thrown off with the news that a teenager named Bela was going to be staying with the both of you for a long period of time. It wasn’t that you were angry about the news, everything just took you by surprise, and while you tried looking for answers, your mother was natural at keeping secrets. She had mentioned something about a tragic accident that left both of Bela’s parents dead, one thing lead to another, the girl had found her way here. And it seemed your mother wasn’t afraid to take in another child to help out until she could find another family member of Bela’s to take her in.

You weren’t upset about the news, more like the opposite, it would have been nice for someone else inside the house with summer approaching. Your mother had agreed to teaching summer classes for high school students after the teacher assigned to it was going to be out after breaking her leg after accidentally slipping off the diving board the wrong way. The house wasn’t going to be empty all day and there wasn’t pressure to find another activity to keep your busy. While the idea of how awkward things were going to turn out between you and Bela, knowing your first encounters with the girl weren’t ordinary, things seemed to have taken the opposite effect.

Bela turned out to be like a little sister you knew thought you could have. You and her ended up having more in common with hobbies and you were able to show her new things she’d never heard of. She instantly seemed like the missing part of the puzzle you longed for years. And with the search for a family member for Bela was slowly turning up dry, your mother was weighing the thought of legally taking custody of the girl if nobody stepped forward. All though it was supposed to be a secret from the both of you, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots when you saw the adoption papers lying around on her desk and a note in her planner about calling a lawyer. You might have been reading between the lines, but you hoped it was the truth.

“Hey, I have a question.” You and Bela were spending the afternoon in your bedroom, waiting for the pizza you ordered a half an hour ago to show up. You were currently sitting on your reading chair, looking up from the novel that you were reading after she spoke up. You saw Bela leaning against your window that overlooked the backyard. She peered over her shoulder, you nodded your head. She was quiet for a few moments longer, as if she was debating with herself to ask this question, but you gave her a small smile, giving her enough confidence to continue. “Do you think Ella really would consider letting me stay? I mean, I really don’t wanna go…”

"I don’t want you to go, either.” You said, closing your book and placing it between the cushioned sheets. You’d been debating with yourself if you wanted to speak about the plans your mother might have been planning. It’d been almost four months since Bela moved in, and with the new school year approaching, you were going to suggest having her sign up to get the conversation rolling. The girl had lost so much, you just wanted to give her happiness. You bit your bottom lip, knowing you were jumping to conclusions, but you felt good about this. “Look–I don’t wanna get your hopes up, but I think I found something in my mom’s study. Come on.”

Bela was a bit hesitant about going through with this plan, knowing there were a few rooms that were off limits to the both of you, but you grabbed her arm and headed for the door. You and her walked down the hall to the room with the door that was always closed. It was only times when you were cleaning would your mother grant you access into her study. Bela stood behind you as you reached out a hand to open the door, even though you were a bit hesitant yourself, you were giddy enough to see the reaction on Bela’s face. You let the door swing open, and stood in the doorway for a moment, but the slight push on your shoulder from her brought you back into reality.

You were the first to step inside the room, Bela was still nervous as she stood in the hall, watching as you headed forward to her desk. You could see the place was an organized mess like always; papers from school were piled in one corner on the desk and other important ones tucked on another. You let out a breath and got the courage to sit down at her desk, sinking yourself into the cushioned chair. As you began searching through the papers, you wondered where she could have placed them. You bit your bottom lip and began digging further, finding yourself getting lost into the hunt, and not seeming to notice the warnings that Bela was giving you.

As you began digging deeper down the pile, you finally found what you were looking for. it was the complete package that you saw sitting on her desk before, but now it was fully completed. You opened your mouth to declare the news, but when you turned your head to the doorway, your face dropped in panic. Your mother was standing behind Bela, her lips stretching into a frown as her hands rested themselves on her hips. If there was any chance you wanted to slip away, this would be the right time.

“Mom,” You managed to get yourself to speak, “What are you doing home early?”

“I didn’t have classes today, something important came up. An old friend of mine asked me out for brunch to discuss a few things.” She said, dodging your question with a simple answer. From the look that was spreading across her face, you knew something serious was about to happen, and it wasn’t good news she was harboring. She looked at you, “Y/N, go to your room for now. I need to speak with Bela privately about a few things.”

“Is this about sneaking into your office? It was my–”

“Y/N, this matter doesn’t concern you. Now you march yourself down to your bedroom before your punishment gets worse.” Your mother threatened, her voice dropping to prove her point. You shake your head, roughly pushing yourself out of your seat, walking past the two as you headed for your bedroom. “And when Bela and I are done speaking, you can come out and say your final goodbyes.”

Things seemed to have taken the opposite turn on you, making you stop in your tracks from hearing the news. You furrowed your eyebrows, suddenly wondering what caused your mother to change her mind so quickly. She had been so focused on making sure Bela found a right home, even thinking that this could be her new family. But it seemed something came up. You bit your lip to keep yourself from letting the tears escape from the devastating news, all you did was stomp your way to your bedroom and slam the door hard as you could behind you.

+ + +

You let out another frustrated sigh as you glanced up from your laptop screen, finding distractions come about wherever you went. The brothers had decided to split the tasks of this hunt with you being stuck with the research and them spending the night playing hero the other brother. A local coffee shop was easily enough a good idea at the time to get some free wifi and a warm meal. But it was proving too much of a burden, finding your thoughts dwindling from Bela and the matter of this case. All though you were given a clear description of the ship, it was almost impossible to pinpoint what you should be looking for. You reached up a hand to grab your fork, reaching it up to mindlessly take another bite to eat as you continued your search.

“Boo.” The sudden voice coming from behind made you jump slightly in surprise, making whatever food you’d picked up go tumbling to your lap. The familiar laugh coming from the suspect made your lips stretched into a frown, Bela stepped forward, taking a seat at the free spot across the table. “Always the one easily frightened. And always had a knack for research.”

You rolled your eyes, “What do you want, Bela?”

“Just wanted to see our very own Nancy Drew at work. Word has it you’re quite good at finding things you’re not supposed to.” She says, making you flinch from her subtle hints from the past. “And perhaps I wanted to apologize for being so blunt back there. I came to help make the workload a little easier. You help me, I’ll help you.”

"No thanks, I’m fine.” You say, brushing off her tempting offer. Even though you wanted to say yes, you had a feeling the brothers wouldn’t be too happy. “Sorry if I don’t want to trust someone who shot me and didn’t even send a get well card.”

“There’s the sarcasm I missed about you, Y/N.” Bela joked with a smile spreading across her lips. “Come on, I promise it’ll be worth your while. I’ll take some of the research off your shoulders, we’ll convene somewhere tomorrow to see what we found. I get paid, you save the day. How does that sound?”

You take a moment to think over the news, but the sound of your cell phone ringing cuts the conversation short for a moment. You excuse yourself when you see the call is coming from Sam, probably discussing what happened on his end. When you answer, his tone of voice is solemn and low, explaining the bad news of what happened. Bela had been right all along–they were too late, adding another tall to the list of bodies that were adding up on the hunt. You looked over at Bela when you began contemplating the extra help. Even though the boys were going to kill you, it would at least make all of this stop before someone else got hurt.

+ + +

You spent the next morning going all over the information that you could about the few ships that seemed to have matched the description given to you earlier. All though there were dead with three victims now, it didn’t mean that this spirit was going to stop anytime soon. You were currently buried deep in a book about shipwrecks you almost forgot about the meeting you arranged with Bela. Knocking on the door caught you off with surprise for a moment, bring your attention back into reality. The brothers were the one taken off guard, wondering who could have found your secret hiding spot which was some abandoned home outside of town.

Dean was the one to answer the door; he got up from the chair he was sitting in, drawing out for backup as he reached out a free hand to take a glance out the peephole. He was expecting the cops, but who was standing on the other side made a sigh of annoyance. He glanced over at you and Sam, knowing the look on his face had it almost presuming he was sucking on a lemon. You closed your book when the door opened to reveal Bela, who seemed like an unwanted guest from the reactions you gotten from the brothers.

“Dear, God. Are you actually squatting? You know, it’s…charming.” She said, cautiously stepping inside the home as she examined the interior of the place. “So, how did things go last night with Peter?” The silence and gloomy expressions that followed made her come quick for an answer with a sarcastic overtone. “That well, huh?”

“If you say ‘I told you so,’ I swear to God, I’ll start swinging.” Dean threatened.

“Shut up, Dean.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes. “Look, I asked her here myself. We talked last night and I think the four of us should have a heart-to-heart.”

“That’s assuming she has a heart.” He retorted, walking over to the table that you and Sam were sitting. He dropped himself on the free seat before placing his gun on the table, like it was a passive threat to Bela.

“I’m sorry about what I said before, okay? I come bearing gifts.” She said, patting a hand against the leather folder she was holding against her side. Sam raised his eyebrows, asking her what it was. “I’ve I.D.’d the ship.”

You were surprised from how fast she could work, but you weren’t going to delay what she found. Pushing everything across the side, you and the brothers waited for her to explain the findings. She placed the folder down and opened it up, taking out a few photographs of the ship that Peter had described, handing them over for the three of you to take a closer look. “It’s the EsPirito Santo, a merchant sailing vessel. Quite a colorful history.” Bela explained. “In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried boards ship in a kangaroo court and hanged. He was thirty-seven.”

You dropped the photograph to the table, “Which would explain the thirty seven year cycle.”

“Aren’t you a sharp tack?” Bela mumbled, you gave her a sarcastic smile as she continued searching for something else buried in papers. “There’s a photo of him somewhere. Here.”

She pulled out another photograph and handed it to Dean to take a closer inspection. He stared at it for a few moments before his eyebrows furrowed, “Isn’t that the customer we saw last night?” He asked his brother, letting him take a look as Bela addressed her curiosity for confirmation. “Yeah, that’s him. Except he was missing a hand.”

“His right hand.” Bela said, adding the details.

Sam looked up for the photograph, “How do you know?”

“The sailor’s body was cremated,” She explained to you all, “But not before they cut off his hand to make a hand of glory.”

“A hand of glory?” Dean repeated the woman. “I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance from the unwanted information coming from the man sitting next to you. “No, idiot. I think I read about this. The right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object. It’s very powerful.” You said, handing back the photograph to Bela. “So it could count as remains.”

“Still,” Sam said, “None of this explains why the ghost is choosing these victims.”

“I’ll tell you why. Who cares? Find the hand, burn it, and stop the bloody thing.” Bela said, being quite blunt with a plan. You opened your mouth to ask her why she suddenly was helping so much, but she cut you off. “I keep promises, Y/N. I know exactly where the hand is. At the Sea Pines museum. It’s a macabre bit of maritime history. But I need help.”

+ + +

When you agreed with helping Bela, you weren’t exactly sure what kind of plan she was trying to drag all of you into. But this, you weren’t exactly sure how you felt about this one. You stood in the full length mirror that was still hung up in the second story bathroom, calling dibs on it after Bela swung by with the dress she was loaning you for the night along with a few other accessories after she dug through all of your belongings, only to find you were lacking a cocktail dress and heels that didn’t make her gag like a child. You had to admit, from the time you spent styling your hair and precisely applying your makeup, it had turned out pretty well. You took a deep breath and emerged from the bathroom, heading downstairs first with your heels making the wood squeak.

You were expecting to see Dean down there himself, but you could feel the slightest pang of disappointment cross over you when you saw Bela. You began wondering if he had left, but her reaction, it seemed he was taking even longer than you. “Finally! What is taking so long, Dean?” Bela shouted, tapping her fingers against the table she was leaning against. “Y/N is finished before you. And Sam’s already halfway there. With his date.”

“I’m so not okay with this.” Dean admitted, his voice trailing from upstairs.

You let a small smile spread across your lips, grabbing your small clutch from the table and joined Bela in the waiting game. “What are you, a woman? Come down, already.” You could hear the familiar sounds of squeaks coming from the upstairs. As you glanced down for a moment to check your bracelet that was feeling a bit loose, you glanced up to see Dean ascending down, but what you saw made your jaw slightly part open with surprise as you heard Bela let out the faintest noise.

In your entire life of knowing Dean, you’ve never seen him dressed in anything more than jeans and flannel, with the occasional suit for hunts. But you had to admit, seeing him dressed in a tuxedo, this was something new. And you had to admit, you liked this new side to Dean. You leaned yourself against the the table, finding yourself accidentally making it wobble from the pressure that you put against it. God, it was happening again, you were acting like a schoolgirl. You forced yourself not to lick your lips, knowing you could ruin your lipstick if you did.

“All right. Get it out.” Dean mumbled, rolling his eyes. “I look ridiculous.”

“Not exactly the word I’d use.” You mumbled underneath your breath.

“What?” Dean asked with an annoyed tone, almost seeming to forget that you were here. But as his eyes trailed over to you, his mouth opened up to reply, but the silence that followed when he examined your appearance made you nervous something didn’t exactly look right. “Y/N. Wow. I must say–”

“She looks stunning, doesn’t she?” Bela cut him off, her lips stretching into a smirk. “Y/N cleans up quite nicely. And if she doesn’t get herself do it by the end of the night, I think you and I should have some angry sex when this is all done, Dean.”

He shifted uncomfortably from the remark she made, protectively crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t objectify me.” He mumbled, acting like the comment hurt his feelings. You shook your head, grabbing your clutch from the table and headed for the front door first with Dean trailing behind. With the view, you didn’t seem to notice the man shamelessly trail his eyes down your body, the both of you silently thanking Bela for choosing such a tight dress.

+ + +

“You’re saying you don’t trust me.”

“No. All I’m saying is that your plan isn’t good enough.”

You sat in the passenger side of the Impala with your arms crossed over your chest, trying your hardest not to indulge more into the argument that Bela was leading you toward. She had merely suggested posing as a couple with Dean, making it more easier to make a diversion and slip away to steal a dead man’s hand. It was devastating enough to spend an evening brushing elbows with snobby rich folks and a dress that was beginning to become uncomfortable. You knew Bela, and she wasn’t always a team player. She leaned backwards in her seat, a smirk beginning to grow across her lips, sort of like the way a friend discovered a secret they’d been bugging you about before accidentally admitted a hint without realizing it.

“Come on, love. Take one for the team.” She said, you rolled your eyes from her tone as you adjusted your attention to the stone building coming into view. You admitted to yourself that it might have been better if Bela had someone at her side during this banquet. Part of you wondered if she was really here to help end this curse. Her motivation was clear enough when you met up with her again. But still, Dean wasn’t always the sharpest when it came to pretty ladies at his side. Yet, when he was around Bela, they were like cats and dogs, finding any reason to stir up another fight. “Promise I won’t keep him past curfew.”

The museum was coming into view, giving you giving you little chance to come up with an answer before it was too late to back out. “Fine.” You mumbled underneath your breath. “He’s all yours.“

Bela’s lips stretched into a smile, you let out a weary breath, suddenly hoping you weren’t making a mistake. The Impala pulled into the line of other cars that were being chauffeured off into parking from the hired help for tonight. While Dean was giving the poor man an earful of how to treat the car, you gave the other one a polite smile when he opened up your door and helped you out. You quickly adjusted yourself before heading inside the building, Bela and Dean trailing behind after. You opened up your clutch and pulled out your invitation, handing it over to the security manning the door. With a scan and a nod, you were in without a hiccup in the plan.

The place was booming with the social night buzz; you managed to squeeze yourself inside the opening crowd of people that lingered around with their dates and glasses of bubbly champagne. You could feel a sense of familiarity as you glanced over your shoulder, catching the two in the buzzing group of people, your lips stretching into the slightest smile when you noticed Bela yelling at Dean for something about his manners as you tried reading her lips. You shook your head, trying to keep yourself from letting out the slightest laugh from your previous thoughts. Yeah, there was nothing to worry about between the both of them. You headed for the bar, knowing that was the exact location where everyone agreed to meet before departing on your different paths.

"Sammy,” You called out, immediately recognizing the body that towered over everyone that was at the open bar, even with his back turned to you. But you could feel your lips stretching into a grin when you saw him, enjoying the sight of him all glamoured up. All though from the pissed off look he gave you, he wasn’t too pleased with who his date was. You headed over, deciding to ease the tension with a compliment, hoping it would calm a bit of his nerves. At least you weren’t him babysitting some crazy old woman. “Aw. Don’t you look handsome!”

“Look at you, Y/N. I hardly recognized you.” Sam said, his lips stretching into a half smirk. You couldn’t help yourself but playfully roll your eyes, heading over to the bar as you caught the attention of a bartender, ordering a round of champagne to get yourself more acquainted with the crowd. “Where’s Dean and Bela? I thought I would have heard their bickering coming from a mile away. And…I thought he’d be attached to your hip, looking like that.”

“Shut up. He’s too busy playing with his new best friend tonight. We need someone to keep an eye on Bela, because God knows what she really has planned.” You mumbled, giving the bartender a smile as you handed the glass over to Sam. “Oh, before I forget, where’s your hot date, Gert? I know you were so excited to take that offer, by the way.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, snatching the glass from your grip. “I don’t want to talk about it. Actually, exactly how long do you guys expect me to entertain her?”

“As long as it takes. Or until one of them gets back here to let me know we’re done.” You said, easing yourself up to one of the chairs, suddenly finding these heels were beginning to hurt your feet. Sam stared at you, still not seeming convinced from your answer. “Look, there’s security all over this place, all right? This is an uncrashable party without Ms. Cases’ lovely invitation.”

"We can crash anything, Y/N.” Sam stated, you shrugged your shoulders.

“I know. But this is easier,” You said, bringing the glass to your lips to take a small sip. “And it’s a lot more entertaining, too. Sure beats sitting around and doing research in that creepy house.”

“You know there are limits of what I’ll do, right?” Sam asked.

Your lips stretched into a smirk, "Aw, you’re playing hard-to-get. That’s cute.”

But your attention dwindled away for a moment when you heard a female voice clear their throat. You leaned over in your seat to see Gert herself, standing behind Sam with two glasses of champagne she must have grabbed from one of the waiters wandering around the room. She caught sight of your familiar face, which prompted a polite smile. “Hello, dear.” She greeted as she walked over to her date. “Where’s your company for tonight?”

“I’m flying solo. But don’t let me stop you from having a wonderful evening. You two kids enjoy yourselves.” You said, giving the woman a playful wink before you brought your gaze up to Sam. You pushed yourself off the seat, deciding to explore a bit, but before you left, you leaned over slightly so he could only hear you. “Oh, and I want all the details in the morning.”

You wandered through the crowd for a moment, but only to stop to see Sam’s reaction of being left alone with the woman. The poor man couldn’t help himself but down the glass of champagne you gave him all in one gulp, needing every ounce of liquid confidence to get him through the night. You shook your head, letting out a quiet laugh before making your way deeper into the crowd. Most of the people you seen were older couples, either enjoying the sight of what pieces that were hung around or grabbing one of the horderves that were being passed around.

You took small sips of your champagne, enjoying the taste as you found yourself becoming attached to a particular painting that caught your attention. It was a simple one of a ship taking on a stormy night at sea, the detail of the painting was vivid of the colors between the hues of blue and black. You couldn’t help yourself but get caught up in thought, finding yourself drifting back to the causes of death. Three people died of drowning, which was something you dealt with not too long ago. You nervously swallowed, making yourself take a deep breath from the memory.

“People say you can almost imagine the fear of what those sailors went through that night.” You’re taken back from the sudden voice near your presence, making you jump slightly. A soft chuckle comes from someone, making your head turn to see an older man that looks to be in his late fifties is standing right next you. He gives you a warm smile, mumbling an apology from frightening you like that. “I’m sorry, dear. I just saw you around town before, thought I might say hello.“

You gave him a polite smile, "Yeah. I’m here on personal invitation—”

“From Gert Case, right? She’s a nutty old woman, but we love her at the firm.” He said, you furrowed your eyebrows slightly from what he mention. The man grew a smile, shaking his head as he shifted around his champagne glass as he placed out a hand for you to shake. “Oh, the name’s Victor Manson. I’m the family’s lawyer.”

“Y/N Plath. Unfortunately I wish I knew her on better terms,” You said, shaking the man’s hand. Now it was Victor’s turn to give you a funny expression. “My partners and I are investigating her niece’s death. Something about it didn’t seem right so we’ve been going over all possibilities.”

Victor nodded his head, "Yes. Sheila was a sweet girl, I knew her since her parents passed.” There was a split second of silence between the both of you before he brought up something interesting. “Now you can call me a stubborn old man to scratch this itch of curiosity, but I’m wondering about something—the Warren brothers’ unfortunate deaths. God rest their souls. But my clients have been talking about it, and well, I’ve been wondering myself. Do you think by chance they’re connected to Shelia’s?”

“Yeah.” You said, admitting part of the truth. “We think so.”

“I think they had it coming,” Victor said. You stopped yourself from taking a drink, taken back from his unexpected comment. “You know, in a biblical sort of way.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

Victor looked around the room, scanning the place to see if there were any wandering eyes before focusing his attention on you. “You know about their father, right?” He asked, you shook your head. “People say the old man didn’t die of natural causes. But rumor was the boys did it. Nothing was ever proven, of course, but people still whisper.”

You were taken back from the sudden rush of information the man was giving you, but from how he slightly slurred his words and began wobbling on his feet, the man was clearly intoxicated enough to start spilling secrets. So, you pushed farther to see if you could find more. “Did Shelia have any connection to them?” You asked him. Victor shook his head, mumbling something about not knowing. You let out a quiet sigh, hoping to try another angle to fish for more answers while you could. “Did Shelia have any kind of tragedy in her life?”

“Yes. As a matter of fact,” Victor thought about it for a moment before spilling the truth of something you weren’t expecting to find. “There was a car accident when she was a teenager. Her car flipped over. Well, she was okay, but her cousin Brian was killed. His parents tried pressing charges on Sheila because she had a history of bad driving. She was always talking on her phone. But I defended her—won the case, too. I didn’t want to do it, but the cases are great clients. But now that I think about it, I feel so damn guilty for being greedy. Do you just do things to get it over with so you can stop thinking about it? You just want it out of the way.”

All the time, you thought to yourself. But the day was saved when a woman called out Victor’s name, letting out a playful chuckle when he was reaching for another champagne after a waiter passed by. It must have been his wife when you saw her wedding band catch the fluorescent lights, she gave you a polite smile before she grabbed her tipsy husband and headed for another part of the building. You noticed you were almost done with your own glass, dwindling down to the last few drops. Since there wasn’t much else you could do until this entire night was over with you could relax and drink. Maybe if you went home with a bit of a buzz, you could sleep through the night without waking up a million times after you feel like you’ve lost your breath.

You made your way back to the bar, not surprised to see the dance floor was booming with couples and almost nobody was around at the bar ordering drinks. You settled yourself back down at your original spot, catching the attention of a bartender as he grabbed you another drink before taking your other glass away. But before he could slip away, you stopped him, making sure to hand him over a hefty tip before tending to other guests. You could see the smile of appreciation before he wandered off. Hey, if you weren’t going to leave here happy, might as well and try to help someone out while you could. As you placed the cup to your lips, you felt a hand press itself on your shoulder, making you stop and peer of your shoulder to see who was lingering over you.

"Sammy,” You mumbled with a smile. “Already calling it quits on dear, old Gert?”

“More like she quit on me. She was complaining her feet were hurting, so she went to go sit down.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders as a sense of relief washed over him. You couldn’t help yourself but shake your head, letting out a soft laugh from his reaction. “But I’ve been eyeing this really pretty girl tonight. I think she’s here alone, too. Do you think I should ask her to dance?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Sure. But you better be quick before Gert comes back.”

Sam shifted around until he was standing across from you, his hand that was on your shoulder was now lingering in your eyesight. It took you a moment before you could feel your lips stretching into a small smile, knowing he must have been talking about you. You graciously accepted his offer to dance, knowing it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy yourselves while you were here. You’d gotten some decent information from Victor, maybe you could cut loose and have fun with Sam.

The both of you headed to the dance floor, heading over in time as a slow song began to play from the hired band that’d been here all night. You managed to wrap your arms around his neck, letting out a slight giggle from the height difference as he placed his hands on your waist. It took a few tries of getting the rhythm down before you and him weren’t crashing into one another by accident. As the music played on, you gently placed your head on Sam’s chest, soaking in the moment of peace and quiet being shared between the both of you. There was nothing about a case that needed to be discussed right now, or that God forsaken deal the poor boy couldn’t stop thinking about. You were trying your hardest to make sure Sam wouldn’t get dragged into one of Ruby’s messes. But it was hard enough when she was dangling a way out, choosing your way as another possibility, too.

“You know, this is nice.” Sam whispered, you hummed a response. To be honest, he was enjoying this himself, at least happy to have a partner that wasn’t trying to grope him in places that made him jump out of his skin. But he was at least happy to see that you were on your own two feet, alive. “And you’re not such a bad dance partner, either.”

Sam could feel a smile stretching across his lips when he heard the vibrations of a laugh coming from you. That was something he didn’t hear enough from you for the past few months. He didn’t speak much about it to anyone, but everything was happening too fast. Between Dean’s year running out and your near edge of death, he’d been battling thoughts of losing his brother or his longest friend. Part of him knew someone was going to die soon. But, boy, was he pissed as ever to find out you’d done something stupid like putting yourself in the line of fire. All though, he understood to a certain extent. Each of you would do anything to save one another from being torn apart from each other ever again. He just wanted to be the one to at least the save the day, for once.

But the sounds of someone clearing their throat made the both of you stop dancing for a moment to see a small crowd of familiar faces have gathered around. You could see Gert had returned with a look in her eye that made you bashfully smile before backing away from her date. Bela and Dean were back from their own adventures. From the lack of sour faces or security following behind, you could make a safe assumption that things went smoothly.

“Well,” Bela spoke up first, “Everyone having a nice time?”

“He’s delightful.” Gert admitted, gushing over Sam as she walked over to Bela, you noticed the empty champagne glass she held while walking over. And from what she whispered to the woman next, it made your eyes jump open in surprise from her boldness. “He wants me.”

“Oh,” Bela muttered, taken back from the comment herself. She ushered the woman off first before looking at the three of you as she made her departure for the exit. “I’m going to get Gert into a cold shower. See you at the cemetery.”

You nodded your head in agreement of the plan, enjoying the feeling to know that everything was going according to plan. As you made sure that everything was inside your clutch, you glanced up in time to see that Dean was leaning over in your personal space. You furrowed your eyebrows as he took a few sniffs before doing the same thing to his brother. “Sammy, I don’t mean to be vulgar, but,” Dean whispered, his nose scrunching up slightly, “You stink like sex.”

Shaking your head in annoyance, you shoved the oldest man to the exit, wanting to get out of these clothes. All of you headed for the exit, managing to head out of the museum without setting off any security alarms or tipping anyone off, knowing very well that Dean was carrying around a severed hand in his jacket. But you found the Impala sitting in the parking lot after getting the keys from the front desk. You slipped yourself in the back with a sigh of relief escaping your lips after you tossed off your heels giving your little toes some breathing room. You and Bela might have been the same dress size, but she had beaten you off in shoe size by one.

“You got it, right?” Sam asked for clarification, not wasting anytime undoing his bow tie and unbuttoning part of his shirt to breathe. “Tell me I didn’t get groped all night by Mrs. Havisham for nothing.”

“I got it.” Dean said. “Mrs. Who?”

“Never mind.” Sam mumbled. “Just let us see it.”

Dean slipped a hand inside his pocket, pulling out the object that was wrapped inside the handkerchief. You watched as he slowly unwrapped it, making sure not to damage the old remains. But as he began to search deeper, his face dropped into a panicked expression for just a moment. And for good reasons from what he revealed next after the white cloth slipped out of his grip. You could feel your jaw tightening in anger at what you saw. It wasn’t the severed hand you were expecting to find. What Dean held was classic bottle in a ship, Bela must have had the real thing. Before you realized it, your fist slammed itself against the front seat in anger

“I’m gonna kill her.”

+ + +

You and the boys were back at the house, with more tension to fill the air. Luckily you had gotten rid of the clothes and slipped on comfortable ones, all before taking the dress Bela borrowed you and threw it straight into the fire pit and watched it go up in flames, ignoring her warnings of how expensive they were. You didn’t care. That was the least of your worries right now. She had played you like a fool, thinking that you could trust her again, but all she did was screw up this entire hunt. You just hoped karma got back at her in the best way possible. She deserved it.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m not gonna kill her.” Dean’s voice makes your attention tear away from the book that has been keeping you occupied for a while. While you found peace from what happened, Dean was still holding on with a death grip since arriving back. Your eyebrows raise themselves from the sudden change of heart, but they drop from what he says next. “I think slow torture’s the way to go.”

“Dean, look,” You said, shutting the book with a quiet thud. “You need to relax.”

“Relax? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll relax.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, rolling his eyes from your suggestion as he began to pace around the room to try and walk off his anger. “I can’t believe she got another one over on us!”

You rolled your eyes, reaching for another book that was across the table as you mumbled, “You.”

When you managed to grab the heavy book into your grasp, it quickly slips out after another hand slapped it down. You jump from the sudden noise as you glanced up to see a larger hand is mere inches from yours. Dean is looming over you with a glare stretching across his face from what you said. “Something you want to share with me, sweetheart?”

“I mean, she got one over on you,” You explained in a quiet tone, sitting back in your seat as you continued, ignoring the anger that began to boil over in his facial expressions at you. “Not me or Sam. Just...You.”

“Thank you, Y/N!” Dean barked at you. “It’s very helpful!”

“You’re welcome.” You mumbled, snatching the book away.

But before either one of you could continue this argument, there was a sudden knocking on the door, sending your attention upward. “Hello? Could you open up?” You froze when you heard Bela’s voice coming from the outside, and from the lining of fear you detected, for a split second you were worried about what happened. You headed for the door with the brothers quickly following behind in your trail. When the door swung open, there stood Bela with guilt written all over her face from what’d she done. You tilted your head and let out a sigh. She could see the hardening glares coming from each of you. “Just let me explain.”

+ + +

“I sold it.” Bela Talbot was a mysterious woman you still didn’t quite get, but you could have guessed the outcome of this mess before she opened her mouth to explain. She sat in the chair you were previously occupying before arriving without notice. From her facial expressions, she was nervous and agitated, but maybe she was feeling that way because Dean was looming over her like some sort of predator. “I had a buyer lined up as soon as I knew it existed.”

You shook your head as you ran a hand down your face in frustration, but Dean decided to play out his aggression as he wandered over the woman, making a gun gesture at the back of her head. “So, the whole reason for us going the charity ball was…” Sam spoke up, trailing off for a moment, waiting for the answer to explain everything of why she suddenly wanted you involved.

“I needed a cover.” She admitted. “You were convenient.”

“Look, you sold it to the buyer.” You said, hinting around a possible plan to get this problem solved. But knowing Bela and these cases went, you knew there was something she wasn’t telling you. “Just go buy it back.”

Bela’s eyes trailed away from you as she began examining something on the floor, “It’s halfway across the ocean. I can’t get it back in time.”

“In time for what?” Dean questioned her.

The woman fell silent as you could see the color in her face slowly to start draining. You furrowed your eyebrows in curiosity from how nervous she was becoming. “What’s going on with you, Bela?” You asked her as you took a step forward. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“I saw the ship.” She whispered, you let out a sigh.

“You what?” Dean asked, his tone rising slightly. You could feel yourself tensing up when you looked over at the man for a split second before down at Bela. Dean let out a chuckle as he headed forward, you knew he was going to have a field day with this news. “Wow, you know, I knew you were an immoral, thieving, con-artist bitch. But just when I thought my opinion of you couldn’t get any lower…”

Bela turned around in her seat to give the man a glare, “What are you talking about?”

“We figured out the spirit’s motive,” You spoke up, slowly walking over to the desk where she was sitting near. You reach out and opened the book you were about to open before Bela arrived. Pulling out a picture of another man that was linked to the spirit, you placed it out for her to examine for a moment before you explained what you found. “This is the captain of our ship, the one who hung our ghost boy.” She looked up at you, wondering what you were trying to say. You shook your head, suddenly feeling disappointed as you began to think about the reason why your mother kicked her out all those years ago. “So, they were brothers. Very Cain and Abel. So, now our spirit, he’s going after a very specific kind of target–people who spilled their own family’s blood.”

“See, first there was Sheila, who killed her cousin in a car accident.” Sam said, bringing up what you’d found out from the chatty lawyer you spoke to last night. Bela looked up from the photographs, her face dropping with a mixture of guilt and fear. “And then the Warren brothers, who murdered their father for the inheritance. And now you.”

Bela sank deeper into the chair as she tried processing what the both of you were telling her. Part of you wanted to help, but from what she’d done in the past and this sudden news from her past, you didn’t know what was right anymore. "So, what was it Bela?” Your eyes trailed up to see Dean was egging the woman on, he leaned down as he stared at her for the answer. “Who’d you kill? Was it Daddy? Your little sis, maybe?”

“It’s none of your business.” She mumbled underneath her breath.

‘I want to help you Bela, I really do.“ You couldn’t help yourself but speak up. She glanced up from what you said, but from what you said next, you could see her face harden as you kept pestering her about her past. "But you need to tell us what you did.”

Still, she wouldn’t speak up. You let out a sigh and rolled your eyes from how stubborn she was being. You thought if you tried the softer approach, maybe she would break down and just admit what she did wrong. But it seemed she was still harboring grudges. “Well, have a nice life–you know, whatever’s left of it.” Dean said, roughly slapping her on the back. He stood up and began acting nonchalant of what was going on as he headed across the room. “Sam, Y/N, let’s go.”

Bela got up from her chair and said, “You can’t just leave me here.”

“Watch us.” Dean argued back at her.

“Please.” Bela tried begging for help, but neither one of you spoke up, or even tried making eye contact with her. You bit your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to give in. “I need your help.”

“Our help?” Dean asked, throwing his coat down when he heard her pleading. He took a few steps forward, throwing the aggressive accusation she stated just a few days ago right back in her face. “How could a couple of serial killers possibly help you?”

“Okay, that was a bit harsh, I admit that.” Bela said, her tone was becoming rushed out as the panic began to settle in again from what she spoke of next. “But it doesn’t warrant a death sentence.”

“That’s not why you’re gonna die.” You spoke up, finally looking up at her. You shook your head in frustration, “What did you do, Bela? Is this–Is that why she kicked you out because of this?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” She said, shaking her head. “No one did.”

“Try me. Because out of anyone in this damn room, I know what it’s like to come from a dysfunctional family that spilled their own blood to get what they want.” You hissed, suddenly overwhelmed from the anger that was boiling inside your chest. Bela let out the slightest scoff from what you admitted, you narrowed your eyes at her. “There’s the door. Speak or get out.”

"Never mind. I’ll just do what I’ve always done.” Bela said. “I’ll deal with it myself.”

With that off her chest, she turned herself on her heels and headed for the front door. You could feel your jaw beginning to tighten from how the way she still wouldn’t break down and tell you all what was wrong. “You do realize you just sold the only thing that could save your life.” Dean said, pointing out the small flaw in the woman’s plan. She stopped in her tracks and turned around, shooting a glare from the man, obviously well aware of the predicament that might not have a happy ending since she lost the hand after going off with her own plan.

“Well,” Sam spoke up, he let out a sigh from what he said next. “Maybe not the only thing.”

+ + +

Bela might have sold the last remaining piece of the spirit, but you had other ways of summoning him before he got here to finish the deed. Sam thought of doing a seance to summon the spirit here, along with someone else that he was holding a grudge against. You watched as the younger man conducted the ritual with Bela at your side. Dean was sitting down on a tombstone with a shotgun for safety. You bundled yourself deeper in your jacket as you glanced up for a moment to stare at the full moon hanging above you all before you glanced over at Sam, wondering how the ritual was going. He had drawn a pentagram with a circle of lit candles around. You watched as he poured out the blood he’d gotten from cutting his own palm and laid down the piece of hair Bela had been forced to snip off after protesting. He took a step back and grabbed the journal that was previously tucked inside his side.

“Do you really think this is gonna work?” Bela asked with a sigh following afterward.

“Almost definitely not.” You muttered, glancing over to look at her.

But when you spoke those words, you could hear the distant sounds of thunder rumbling from above as the wind began howling about, making the sudden rush of clouds come from above block out the moon. And if that wasn’t good enough of a sign that danger was to follow, the sudden sprinkle of unexpected rain began to trickle down before it became an all out storm, making you stiffen and look around for the spirit that was sure to be lurking around. Sam took that as his cue to start reading as he opened up the journal and Latin began to come through. As he continued on, the storm began to grow more fierce as the wind began blowing harsher and the rain soaked your clothes to the bone. You swallowed as you looked around, all before turning your gaze to Bela, who looked more frightened than ever. Out of your goodwill, you reached out a wrapped your hand around her arm, giving it a tight squeeze to let her know you were here to help. Whatever happened in the past, you didn’t care right now. She needed your support.

As you looked over to see how Dean was holding up,your face dropped when you saw the spirit had lurked behind him. “Behind you!” You shouted on the top of your lungs. Dean took your warning and looked over his shoulder, sure enough making eye contact with the spirit, but before he could take a shot, the ghost was faster. The man easily flung him across the field, where Dean landed roughly against another tombstone as you heard a shot from the gun go off. You immediately drawn your attention back to Bela, and without realizing it, you were pushing her out of the way, shoving her to the ground. You let out your last breath when you felt the cold touch of the man’s hand press itself against your cheek, you were shaking in fear of what was going to happen next, but you didn’t care.

When the man dropped his hand back down to his side, you suddenly could feel the same burning sensation beginning to fill your lungs as your throat was tightening. You started coughing up water that wouldn’t stop coming out, you closed your eyes and forced yourself to concentrate on something else. But it was coming out faster as you could feel you dropped to your knees. Your palms rested on the cold ground as your fingers clenched themselves into a tight fist, the pressure slipped themselves into the cold dirt that was turning into mud. As time seemed to drag on, you were beginning to find yourself being drawn to the familiar haze.

But the sudden presence that pulled you upward had your eyes shooting open as someone shouted in your ear by accident from the fear of what was going on. “Sam, read faster!” Dean ordered at his younger brother. As the man did what he was told, Dean reached out an arm and pulled to you to his chest, trying his hardest to ease you through everything.

Seconds felt like hours, but everything was beginning to slow down. The rain stopped and the wind slowly eased to a gentle breeze. You coughed out the remainder of the water before you were suddenly letting out a sharp, shaky breath. The both of you looked up to see that the plan had worked. Both brothers were reunited again, ready to finish the bad blood each of them had spilled. It was silence for a few moments, but with your heartbeat that was pounding inside your ears, you wondered if you could hear the conversation taking place.

“You,” The sailor faced his brother with an angry tone, “You hanged me!’

The captain looked full of remorse, "I’m sorry.”

“Your own brother!” The sailor hissed. Again, the other man tried apologizing, but there would have been none of that. You watched as the sailor lunged at his brother, but from the sudden impact that destroyed both the spirits, you couldn’t help yourself but bend your head down, not wanting to see anymore disaster for tonight.
+ + +

You might not have slept any single wink last night, but you had gotten a decent amount of packing done. It was now early enough in the morning as you finished your last cup of your caffeine of choice, waiting for the brothers to finish their own packing before all of you would be back on the road. Luckily nobody discussed what happened last night or what you did, and you were more grateful than ever. You just wanted to forget about it and move on to the next case. As you took a seat on the couch next to Dean, you reached out and began reading a book you’d recently picked up from a run into town. But you barely managed to get to the first page when the first door opened, your eyebrows jumped up in surprised when you saw Bela, who greeted you all with a warm smile.

“You should learn to lock your doors.” She said, walking over to Sam as he was the closest to where she was headed. “Anyone could just barge in.”

“Anyone just did.” He muttered. “Did you come to say goodbye or thank you?”

“I’ve come to settle affairs.” She said, you eyed the the wads of cash she pulled out of her purse as Dean headed over to see what she was going to do with them. You followed shortly after when you settled your book down, wondering what this was all about. “Giving the spirit what he really wanted–his own brother. Very clever, Sam.” She then prompted to toss the cash at Sam, then Dean. You barely figured out what was going on before you managed to catch your own. “It’s ten thousand for you and your idiot brother. Y/N, on the other hand, gets fifteen for her courageous act. That should cover it. I don’t like being in anyone’s debt.”

“So, ponying up twenty-five grand is easier for you than saying thank you?” You asked her, looking up from the wad of cash you had been eyeing suspiciously. You shook your head as a small laugh escaped your throat. “And here I thought I was a pushover. You’re so damaged.”

Bela’s lips stretched into a smirk. “Takes one to know one, love.”

You gave her the same smile back, suddenly feeling like teenagers again. “Goodbye, Bela.”

“Goodbye, Y/N.” She said, nodding her head at you. “Goodbye, lads.”

With the awkward farwells out of the way, you watched as she headed for the front door, leaving you all with a sweet paycheck that you normally would’ve never asked for. But with this sort of cash in your back pocket for emergencies, you would take it without remorse. “She got style You got to give her that.” Sam said, you shrugged your shoulders. “But you know, guys, we don’t know where this money’s been.”

“No,” Dean said, snatching the money that his brother waved around. His lips stretched into a grin a the cash he held. “But I know where it’s going.”
+ + +

You sat in the passenger side of the Impala with Dean at the wheel, you glanced up to see Sam had graciously taken the backseat for once after complaining of being tired and needed a nap for the long journey ahead. You could feel a faint smile growing across your lips as you glanced down at the map laid out and the flashlight guiding directions to the next stop on the Winchester road trip. “Atlantic City, huh?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice lowered as Sam slept in the back. “Someone’s feeling pretty lucky.”

“Hell yeah.” Dean said. “Play some roulette. Always bet on black.”

You shook your head as you let out the quietest laugh. As a small silence fell between the both of you, it was a moment of examining the map before you glanced over at Dean. You tapped your foot against the floors before you glanced over at him. “Dean,” You started off, you watched as his eyes trailed away from the darkened roads as they fixated on you for a moment, wondering what you wanted to say. “I’ve been doing some soul searching and I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been exactly the easiest person to be around. And I know how much stress you’ve been under these past few months. I haven’t been exactly helping, either.”

Dean thought about what you said as he glanced back over at the road. “Listen, I’ve been doing some thinking myself. And I want you to know I understand why you did it.” He said, you raised your eyebrows from what you were hearing. “I understand why you sold your soul and why went after the crossroads demon. You know, situation was reversed, I guess I would have done the same thing for you and Sam.” You rolled your eyes, suddenly understanding what this conversation was really about. “I mean, I’m not blind. I see what you’re going through with this whole deal–me going away and all that.”

“Just stop, okay?” You suddenly cut him off as you threw the map down against your lap. You shook your head, “Can you please stop acting so nonchalant about it? You’re not going to die.”

"You’re gonna be okay, Y/N.” Dean said, ignoring what you said. “I know you will. You’ll keep hunting with Sammy and make sure he stays out of trouble. You know, you’ll live your life like I wasn’t there. You’re stronger than me. You always have been.”

“Please. No I’m–”

“You are, Y/N. You’ll get over it. Just like when we were kids.” Dean said, you directed your gaze somewhere else when he mentioned the past. It wasn’t like you had a choice in the matter. “But I want you to know I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m sorry for putting you and Sammy through all of this.”

“You know what, Winchester Go screw yourself.” You hissed at him. He looked at you with a confused expression, not expecting this sort of outburst from you. “I don’t want an apology from you. I think you should be doing that to Sam for putting him through all of this. If you want to sulk about what your father did–fine. But if you want to end your life because he brought you back from the dead, let me take your place. Because let’s face it,” Your lips stretched into a forced smirk, “I’m not even supposed to be alive. It sure as hell gives me enough of a right to do what you did. I’m a big girl, Dean, I know what the consequences are!”

“Oh, well, excuse me.” Dean muttered, not expecting your backlash.

“God, you don’t get it, do you?!” You questioned him. “Start worrying about your little brother that you’re going to abandon. Start worrying about yourself for once in your life. I want you to give a crap that you’re dying! I want you to know that Sam’s gonna be lost without you. You’re his only family that’s left. Do you really want to do that to him?” Dean shook his head, falling silent for a response from the bitter truth that you were putting him through. Your lips stretched into a frown. “So, that’s it? Nothing else to say for you?”

Dean, like always, managed to switch the conversation around. “I think maybe I’ll play craps.” He mumbled, nodding his head as he began settling on the idea. You kept yourself from slapping any sense into the man as you pinned your arms down by crossing them over your chest. As you took in a deep breath, you closed your eyes, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here.

Chapter Text

A string of dead bodies drained of their blood spread across a small city was enough evidence to point out a possible vampire case. You hadn’t worked much of them. But it was clear enough from the sloppy patterns of how the victims were left either someone didn’t care about being caught, or they were growing their nest. And it was feeding time after the sun went down.

You lurked through the alleyway with the only real source of light coming from the occasional street lamp you passed under or the flashlight you secured in one hand. The other carried a newly sharpened machete that rested against your side as you waited for something to catch your eye. Most of the bodies were found around this area. It was secluded enough to get a tasty snack without anyone interfering, that would be, until you and the boys came to ruin the fun.

You walked further through the alley with the brothers taking the lead, and all though each of you were scavenging the place for any sort of possible clues, you were beginning to wonder if all of you were too late. News had been picking up on the recent attacks, and all though most of them had been thought to be done by an animal, it might have made them scared enough to start running for another place to hunt. But as you turned your head at the right moment, you caught sight of a thick pool of blood coming from behind a dumpster not far from where you were standing. You quickly nudged your elbow against Dean’s side since he was the closest, and before he could make a remark, you stretched out your arm and pointed at the sight.

All of you headed forward to the dumpster to see what laid on the other side. You tighten your grip on the handle, wondering if you were going to find one of them still munching on their midnight snack. But you loosened it when you saw that a man was lying on the concrete with his hands barely touching his fresh wounds. It was clear enough to see the familiar jagged marks when you bent down to help him. He was gargling on his own blood from how close the vampire bit near his jugular, but he was still conscious of what was going on when he saw three strangers appear.

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry.” Sam said, calming the man down so he wouldn’t make his wounds worse for himself. “We’re gonna call you some help, okay?”

But Dean, being the impatient man that he was, seemed more focused on trying to finish this hunt before someone else could have gotten hurt. “Where is she?” He questioned the man, but a split moment of silence followed, only pressuring him to ask again in a louder tone. “Where’d she go?”

The man scattered up enough energy to lift up his hand to point a finger down another part of the alley. You lifted up your flashlight to see that it was a narrow space that seemed to have broken off in two different directions. You looked over at Dean as you nodded your head for him to take one direction, and you would go alone on the other. He didn’t seem to hesitate with the plan when he pushed himself up to a standing position and took off, heading for the left. You followed after him as you walked down the deserted alley with your sights turning on the right. You walked for a minute or so with only your footsteps echoing off the pavement and your steady heartbeat pounding faintly inside your chest. You turned around a few narrow paths until you stumbled upon a larger opening with a fence making it a dead end for you.

There wasn’t many places someone could hide, but it was wide enough to trap someone of where they were. You examined every inch of this place as you silenced your breathing for a moment. If she was around here, there was only way of how to lure a vampire out. You quickly shrugged off your jacket and tossed it to the floor, ignoring the shiver that was beginning to set inside your body with the cold breeze blowing around every once in awhile. All you left yourself in was a shirt, making what you were about to do a lot easier.

Without thinking twice about it, you held out your arm and brought the machete up to the skin. You winced from the pain as the blade ran against the flesh, giving you a cut deep enough for blood to slowly start trickling out. You took a deep breath, hoping this would work without it backfiring on you. There was no backup to help you if things went south and you weren’t quick to protect yourself. Sam must have been waiting for an ambulance and Dean was on his own goosechase. But you were going to wait to see if this worked out in your favor.

“Smell that? Come and get it!” You shouted, poking at the beast to see if you could tempt her enough to come out into hiding. No matter what, a vampire couldn’t resist the smell of blood, and you had something a bit extra pumping in your veins. As blood trickled out of your cut, you looked ahead to see someone lurk out from the shadows. Your lips stretched into a grin when a woman came out from her hiding spot. And from the familiar shade of red that was smeared around her mouth, it wasn’t smudged lipstick. “That’s right. Come on. I smell good, don’t I? I taste even better.”

You were pushing her buttons, trying to wait and see the next move she was going to pull. But as she wandered closer to you, she suddenly stopped when she noticed the machete you were holding. If that was stopping her, you decided to throw it across the alleyway as it made a small thud. You then took your free hand to move your hair back, exposing more of your neck. “Come on.” You taunted her, pushing her exactly to the breaking point. “Free lunch!”

In a blink of an eye, she was lunging herself at you, going for the bait that you set up for her. You could feel your arms possessively wrap around your shoulders, pinning you into place as she sank her teeth into your neck. But before she could get to the feast, you slipped your hand inside your pocket, pulling out the syringe of dead man’s blood. You popped off the top and quickly stabbed the needle into her neck and shoved down, letting the blood pour into her veins. She immediately reacted from what you’d done to her; you could feel her grip loosen before she was stumbling backward, coughing violently before she fell to the concrete with a thud.

When there was no movement seen from her, you finally let out a sigh of relief, knowing you’d accomplished one task. Turning your head to the alleyway, you heard footsteps approaching. You thought the moment of victory was lost as you began wondering if the woman wasn’t going at it alone. But you relaxed once more when you saw the brothers finally coming to see where you had wandered off to. You gave them a smile from the work you could have done yourself, but they weren’t exactly pleased. Sam looked nothing short of concerned from the danger you put yourself through, and Dean of course was trying his hardest not to lecture you from the glare that was harvesting on his face. For a man that just talked to you of going about hunting by yourself after he passed, his reaction wasn’t what you were expecting to see.

You furrowed your eyebrows from their expressions, “What?”

“Cutting it a little close Y/N,” Sam spoke up next as he glanced over at you, “Don’t you think?”

“Ah, that’s just chum in the water.” You said, shrugging your shoulders from their concern. You glanced down at the female vampire, which you took down by yourself. “Worked, didn’t it?”

But all that prompted was even more concerned glances from the brothers as they glanced down at your arm to see the blood that was beginning to dry up now. You shrugged off their glances as you headed forward to grab your discarded jacket and machete, knowing the second plan of action needed to take place before your new friend would wake up.

+ + +

Back at the place where you and the brothers had been crashing at since arriving, it was just like the same hideout like last time; abandoned and enough privacy to haul an unconscious woman back without questions being raised. You patched yourself up while the boys made sure the vampire you took down was tied down well enough so she wouldn’t get loose and start attacking again. As you emerged from the bathroom, your eyes landed on the woman to see that she was beginning to slowly find herself coming back to reality. You headed forward as you pulled down your shirt sleeve to cover up your wound. As the dead man’s blood began to lose its effect, the woman immediately knew something was going on when her eyes nearly began to bulge out of her head as she looked at you three like a deer in headlights.

Dean leaned down to the woman, catching her attention from how close he was. “You with us?” He asked, and from how loud his voice was, made the woman jump up in fright. She tried her hardest to get out the restraints, but nothing was working to make the rope loose. “Oh, yeah, sorry. You’re not going anywhere.”

“Where’s your nest?” Sam questioned the vampire, starting off the interrogation.

The woman stopped struggling for a moment as she gave him a confused expression, “What?”

“Nest,” Dean repeated his brother. “Where you and your bloodsucking pals hang out.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please!” She whined, still trying her hardest to fight her way out of her restraints. “I don’t feel good.”

You rolled your eyes from her excuses as you slipped a hand inside your pocket for the other syringe where you had a backup supply of the blood. You waved it around, letting her catch sight of the poison for her kind. “Yeah, well, you’re gonna feel a hell of a lot worse if we give you another shot of dead man’s blood.” You threatened to her.

“Just let me go.” She said, shaking her head.

Sam’s lips stretched into the smallest smirk from her request, “Yeah. You know we can’t do that.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I’m just–I took something. I’m freaking out! I don’t know what’s going on!” The woman tried explaining everything, acting as if she had no idea what was happening to her. You crossed your arms over your chest and slowly circled her so you were closer. Leaning down slightly, you looked at her straight in the eye, pretending to check to see if her pupils were dilated. “I can’t…I can’t come down. I just want to come down.”

“What’s your name?” Sam asked, his voice shifting to a softer tone.

“Lucy.” She said as she looked over at him. “Please, just let me go.”

“All right, Lucy, how about this?” Sam asked the woman, trying to make a small compromise with her. “If you tell us what happened, we’ll let you go.”

Lucy was taken back from the generous offer that she almost didn’t seem to expect, but she asked again, wondering if all you were on board. You looked down at Sam for a moment, knowing damn well this wasn’t going to end pretty, but when you looked back at her, you gave a warm smile, encouraging her to start the story of how this entire situation came to be.

“Uh, I don’t really, it’s not that clear. I was at Spider.” Lucy began her story, trying her hardest to remember the details. She closed her eyes for a moment before you asked her what Spider was, prompting her to open her eyes and look at you like an idiot from not knowing. “The club on Jefferson. And there was this guy–he was buying me drinks.”

“This guy,” Sam said, “What’s he look like?”

“He was old, like thirty. He had brown hair and a leather jacket–Deacon or Dixon. Or something.” Lucy explained, trying her hardest to get her memory straight. “Said he was a dealer–he had something for me. Something new. ‘Better than anything you’ve ever tried.’ He put a few drops in my drink.”

Dean wandered around the room for a moment as you realized what happened to the woman. He somehow had played her like a fool, drugging her up to become something like him without even knowing. “Was the drug red and thick?” Dean asked her. Lucy looked up from the ground at him, she nodded her head. “Well, genius move there. That was vampire blood he dosed you with. You just took a big shot of the nastiest virus out there.”

“You’re crazy! He gave me roofies or something!” Lucy shouted, still in denial of everything that was happening to her. But when she saw that you or Dean weren’t falling for her story, she quickly looked over at Sam, hoping he would believe her. “The next thing I know, we’re at his place, and he says he’s gonna get me something to eat, just wait. But I get so hungry.”

“So busted out?” Sam asked, wondering if that’s what happened next.

Lucy nodded her head, which prompted Sam to look over at you and his brother, beginning to suspect the poor woman was lured into a trap. She didn’t want this brought on her and the consequences weren’t her own fault. “But it won’t wear off, whatever he gave me.” She said, her voice was beginning to turn shaky and frightened. Even she was growing scared of what was going on without her own control. You glanced over at her, feeling empathic at her demise.

“Lights are too bright?” You asked her. “Sunshine hurt your skin?”

“Yeah, and smells.” She whispered, her eyes trailing around. “And I…I can hear blood pumping.”

“I hate to tell you this,” You said, your voice dropping to a softer tone from the news you were about to force upon her. “But your blood’s never pumping again.”

Lucy glanced away from the wall she was staring at when she shook her head. “Not mine…yours.” She mumbled, making the guilt slowly start piling on itself from how you dangled yourself in front of her. “I can hear a heart beating from half a block away. I just want it to stop.”

“All right, listen, wavy gravy.” Dean said, bending down so he was now at eye level with Lucy. “It’s not going to stop. You’ve already killed two people–almost three.”

“No, I couldn’t.” Lucy muttered as her voice broke. “I was hallucinating!”

“You killed them, all right?” Dean said, his voice growing harder, not caring from how much the woman was denying the truth. “We’ve been following a sloppy trail of corpses, and it leads straight to you.”

Lucy shook her head as she squeezed her eyes shut. “No. No, it wasn’t real! It was the drug!” She said, trying to keep denying the truth. “Please! Please, you have to help me!”

You glanced over at the brothers, wondering what the next plan of action was going to be. From everything that you’d learned about vampires, there was no cure possible of treating this, and from how vicious she had gotten, you knew she couldn’t be saved. Sam nodded his head toward the room just off to the side, giving all of you some privacy to think of how to handle this. As you headed forward, you winced from the pleas that Lucy tried to get your attention again, but you ignored her and continued walking. There was only one way out of this, and it wasn’t going to end pretty for the woman. You looked over your shoulder for a moment to stare at her one more time before focusing your gaze back on Sam when he spoke up.

“Poor girl.” He muttered, his voice full of sympathy.

“We don’t have a choice.” Dean said bringing up the harsh reality.

You let out a quiet sigh, knowing that the man was right about that. You avoided his gaze when the final step of the plan was to end the poor woman’s life. Sam shook his head, not wanting to get his hands dirty for this one, leaving Dean to finish the task. He wasn’t particularly happy to finish the deed, but he knew that it had to be done. Dean grabbed the machete that was resting against his side and pulled it out. As he headed back into the room, you could hear Lucy’s pleas echo through the silent room before there was a quick sound of slicing coming from the machete to end her words. The only thing left to hear was the soft thud of her head that rolled to the floor.

+ + +

Before Lucy’s unfortunate death, she had mentioned a familiar name which brought you back to the research you’d been doing. Spider had been a popular name you came across without realizing how important it could have been. After ditching the body, you and the brothers headed out the bar, wondering if you could find the mystery man that Lucy had spoken about. He might have been the one that’d been turning people without them realizing it. Of course when you arrived at the place, it was crawling with bodies, giving you all little time to talk to the bartender that was working to please the crowds. Between the rush they were trying to handle, it didn’t give much time to speak, leaving everyone frustrated as you headed out of the bar with no new information.

“That was a big, fat waste of time.” Dean complained, stepping out of the bar.

“Look, three blondes have gone missing, including Lucy,” You said, walking down the steps as you forced your way through the crowded sidewalk before finding an empty place to stand for a moment. “All last sighted here. I’m telling you, guys, this is the hunting ground.”

But before you could finish your thought, your eyes trailed on something that Dean had pointed out. You furrowed your eyebrows for a moment, wondering what was so important about the scene. It was a couple walking down the street, but when you looked further, the similar details about it was too convincing not to follow behind. Where they were heading wasn’t all too romantic, either. You trailed behind as Dean headed first to stop the man from turning someone else into the monster that he was. All though it might not have been exactly what you were suspecting, it never hurt to be safe than burning another body because of the mistake.

You headed for the alley before sticking around the corner to see where this fight would end. As you peeked around the corner, you saw the man was dangling a small dropper over the woman’s mouth. You saw that the shade was a similar match to blood. But before he could let a single drop loose, Dean took action, ripping the man’s arm away as Sam helped get the woman out safely. She passed you by, not even giving you a second glance as she slipped into the night. As you peeked out to see what was going on with the boys, you didn’t make it very far from what happened next.

You glanced up in time to see something coming forward from the corner of your eye. When you saw it was the man you were chasing, your instincts kicked in when he tried making a run for it. But you barely managed to fight him off before he was grabbing a hold of you, roughly pulling you forward in his grip before throwing you against the concrete wall. The blow was hard enough to send you knock the wind out of you for a moment as a painful throbbing began to settle in the back of your head. You barely figured out what was going on before you were stumbling to your feet, getting yourself composed enough to start running after the man before he could get away.

“Y/N, wait!”

Of course, you didn’t. You knew the brothers were trailing behind, and all though they might have been faster than you, it didn’t mean they had the head start like you did. You ran through the alley, following the distant sounds of footsteps that were echoing in front of you with another pair right behind you. It was a moment of playing a game of hide and seek before you were at a dead end with the vampire nowhere to be seen. As you stopped to catch your breath, you looked around to see where he could have ended up. But you saw something more dangerous just lurking ahead. Your heartbeat began to beat faster with actual fear beginning to settle in your mind.

There were only two things in life that sent a shiver down your spine; the yellow eyed demon, which was dead and back in Hell with no chance of coming back. That left the infamous hunter, Gordon Walker, which you thought would have been solved after seeing him hauled off his handcuffs months ago. But like a cockroach that couldn’t be killed after being squashed on, he was back. There he stood in the shadows with his partner you met way back while dealing with a case in Black Rock. You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t seem to notice that Gordon didn’t come unprepared. He was heading forward with a loaded gun pointing in your direction with his finger pressed against the trigger.

+ + +

You weren’t the type of person to freeze up like this; from the years you’ve been spending on the road with hunting, you’ve gotten good at running away from danger. But here you were, staring down the barrel of the gun with someone eagerly waiting to pull the trigger. You jumped from the familiar sounds of gunshots echoing through the alley before the sudden pressure on your arm was sending you back into reality. You roughly shifted around your footing and tried your hardest to keep up with Sam as he dragged you to safety, where his brother was followed in the lead.

You managed to only find coverage behind someone’s parked car for a moment as you dropped yourself to your knees, needing to catch your breath from the sudden rush of adrenaline pumping through your body. But Gordon and his partner weren’t giving any of you a chance to take a break as they aimed their direction at the car, shooting aimlessly, breaking glass and waiting for the chance until either one of you popped out. You let out a breath from the sudden peace when they ran out of bullets, which meant it gave all of you just a few seconds for them to reload. “All right. You and Y/N need to run..” Dean said, nodding his head at you and his brother. “I’ll draw them off.”

You opened your mouth to protest the crazy stunt he was about to pull, but before any words could come out, Dean was off, running straight into the line of fire. Bullets were flying around again, but you could hear the sounds of it slowly drawing away as Dean made his great escape. You looked over at Sam, wondering what the next plan for you two would be. Since neither one of you brought any weapons, it was best to start running and hope for the best. You pushed yourself to your feet and quietly ran out of your hiding spot, looking over your shoulder one more time to see if the coast was clear before running back to the motel for safety.

+ + +

You crossed your arms over your chest and let out an annoyed sigh. It’d been a few hours since you and Sam arrived back and there was no sign of Dean. You tried his cell phone at least half a dozen times and peeked out the window every few minutes, psyching yourself to believe you heard the familiar sounds of the Impala. Sam paced around the room and kept looking down at his watch, only to see time tick by. As you headed for the window again, he slowly walked over to the dresser, taking a seat and letting out a quiet breath. When there was nothing new in sight, you dropped your hand away from the curtain and slipped it into your pocket, getting ready to pull out your cellphone. But you stopped when you heard the front door open.

“There you are!” You hissed at the oldest Winchester himself.

“Sorry, Y/N,” He said, brushing off your concern as he closed the door behind him. “I stopped for a slice.”

“Nice move you pulled back there, Dean,” Sam jumped into the conversation, following behind his brother as the man headed deeper into the room to take off his jacket. “Running right at the weapons.”

“Well, what can I say?” Dean asked, tossing his jacket and turning around to look at the two of you. “I’m a badass.”

“More like a dumbass.” You retorted back, crossing your arms over your chest again as he tossed you a look from your comment. “But that’s beside the point. We have more important things to worry about. Like, I don’t know, Gordon being out of jail. And how he knew where to find us!”

You and the brothers never left a paper trail for someone to point out where you could be, or the next destination on the map. You’ve been hiding your tracks from the police for months now, and neither one of you had been contact with any other hunters. But then it dawned on you as you looked up at Dean with a surprised look, and from the angered expression coming across in his facial expressions, you had a feeling he knew who was behind all of this. Perhaps it was someone that had nothing to lose. And could be easily be bribed for just the right price.

“That bitch.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, suddenly knowing who was behind all of this. He shoved a hand inside his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, furiously punching in a number before he pressed the phone to his ear. It only took a few rings before you heard the familiar cheery voice coming from the other side. Dean played along for a moment, and while he walked around the room, you couldn’t help yourself but follow him around to eavesdrop on the conversation. “Hi, Bela. Question for you. When you called me yesterday, it wasn’t to thank me for saving your ass, was it?”

"Gordon Walker paid me to tell him where you were.” Bela explained in the most nonchalant tone to him. And just like that, you all got the answer you were expecting to hear. Dean was silent for a response, knowing it was taking all of his self control not to rip the woman apart, so he mumbled something, wanting her to further this answer. “Well, he had a gun on me. What else was I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” Dean mumbled for a moment before his voice rose, finally letting out his aggression on the woman. “Maybe pick up the phone and tell us a raging psychopath was dropping by!”

Bela had the audacity to let out the faintest laugh from how Dean was reacting, “I did fully intend to call. I just got a bit sidetracked.”

“He tried to kill us!” Dean yelled at her, trying to prove how serious this was.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.” Bela said, her tone full of sarcasm, and if you knew her well enough, you could see her rolling her eyes. “After all, there are three of you and one of him.”

“There were two of them. And they had weapons–we didn’t.” Dean said, correcting the woman. You heard her let out the faintest noise, realizing she was wrong about the assumption. “Bela, if we make it out of this alive, the first thing I’m gonna do is kill you.”
Your face scrunched up from his threat, not expecting him to be so brutal about all of this. “You’re not serious.” Bela mumbled, her tone dropping to a softer one from the sudden shift in mood.

“Listen to my voice and tell me if I’m serious.” Dean said in the most steady tone. If Bela wasn’t convinced from his words, you were sure becoming aware of his intentions from the cold glare that was sketching itself across his face. If you’d learned one thing about Winchesters from the years knowing them, it’s that they always kept to their threats, no matter how long it took.

+ + +

There was a vampire still on the loose and a madman with the best hunting skills out there wanting to kill you. Now wasn’t exactly the best time to be getting a headache. You kept yourself busying by trying to figure out ways to track Gordon himself. But with no cell phone number or idea where he could be hiding out, you were left with not many options. You were tempted to reach out and call Bela, hoping she would help out, but after the nasty threat Dean left her with, you doubted she was in the mood. It’s not like you had anything to give her either, which sent your goosechase to a rough halt.

You shut your laptop and rubbed the back of your neck, hoping the throbbing pain inside your head would go away. But the ways Dean was sharpening the machete right next to you wasn’t helping, either. You felt like a sitting duck and a useless hunter, knowing you were just here, waiting for someone else to get hurt in the process of waiting for a new lead to come through.

“That vampire’s still out there, guys.” You mumbled, pointing out what you left behind.

“First things first.” Dean said, you glanced over at Sam, knowing exactly who he was hinting about, Gordon. You nodded your head in agreement. “And about that–when we find him, or if he finds us…I’m just saying he’s not leaving us a whole lot of options.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam said, placing down one of the guns he’d been cleaning to the table. “We’ve got to kill him.”

“Really? Just like that?” Dean asked his brother, seeming surprised to hear such a blunt answer from someone that always tried to do the right thing. Sam looked over at his brother, he just shrugged his shoulders, not sure what else Dean wanted to hear. “I thought you would have been like, ‘No, we can’t. He’s human. It’s wrong.’”

“No, I’m done. Gordon’s not gonna stop until we’re dead,” Sam explained his clear motive, shaking his head. But he trailed off for a moment, giving a small pause before finishing his sentence, which was coming off more as threat from the plans he had ahead. “Or until he is.”

You were nothing more than comfortable with that idea, and at least happy to know that everyone was on board for ending someone’s life after the multiple tries against yours. As you settled yourself back down in your chair, you were about to open your laptop again to start up the hunt once more, but you stopped when Dean’s cell phone began going off again. He rolled his eyes from the unexpected interruption and shoved his hand into his pocket, dropping the machete to the table and answered it in the rudest way when he found out who it was. Of course, it was Bela.

“I don’t like it when people hold grudges against me, and more to the point, I’d rather you didn’t kill me.” Bela began from the other line. You shook help yourself but shake your head from what you were hearing. All it took was one little threat and Dean managed to shake the woman to her core, doing your job without you even asking. “So I went ahead and found Gordon’s exact location for you.”

“You’re a hundred miles away. How the hell did you–”

“Hello? Purveyor of powerful occult objects? I used a talking board to contact the otherside. Warehouse. Two stories, riverfront, neon sign outside.” Bela said, giving you all a perfect place of where Gordon could be hiding out. Dean mumbled a thanks as he tried ending the call, but she stopped him for one more piece of information you weren’t expecting. “One more thing–the spirit had a message for you. 'Leave town, run like hell, and whatever you do, don’t go after Gordon.’ For whatever that’s worth.”

+ + +

There had to be a dozen warehouses with the description that Bela gave you, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t going to find it. With a little more digging, you managed to find the exact location of Gordon’s hideout. Or that’s what you and the brothers were suspecting to find. You weren’t sitting this one out, forcing them to hand over a loaded gun and follow them inside. Gordon was like a thorn in your side that’d been poking at you all this time. From his constant obsession to kill you, the comments he tried making like you were some kind of monster, it was enough for the pain to drive you over the edge. You were almost looking at this like a blessing to find his little hideout, wanting to catch the hunter by surprise and put a bullet between his eyes, ending this game once and for all.

But your plans seemed to have been turning south after you and the brothers searched every inch of the warehouse, only to turn up empty. As you were about to give up hope, you managed to find a bottom level that must have lead down to the basement. Sam headed down first with Dean taking the middle, you followed behind quietly as you could, making sure you didn’t put too much pressure on the wooden staircase as you made you way down. What you found below looked like someone’s living space, and sure enough, there was company, just not who were expecting to find. You furrowed your eyebrows at the horrendous sight of two bodies chained up to the ceiling by their arms and their heads missing, their clothes covered in blood. A man was on his knees with his back turned to the three of you, almost mourning the sight.

As you headed in deeper, you realized Gordon wasn’t here, but your vampire was. You knew if this was the person you were looking for earlier in the night, he wasn’t going to be effected from the bullets. It might have been a long shot, but you looked around the room for something to defend yourself better. And by some random luck, you found a knife lying around. You quietly walked to the table it was sitting on, but still keeping focus on the man, knowing he could jump on either one of you at any given moment. Yet, you managed to put your gun away and snag the knife, flipping it around by the handle and walked forward, waiting for him to make the first move.

“Go ahead. Do it.” The man spoke up first, knowing very well you three were lurking around. But from what he offered next, how willing he was to give up on life, you were confused at how he wasn’t going to give any of you a fight. “Kill me.”

You glanced over at the brothers to see they were thrown off from everything that was going on just as you. But they weren’t willing to put their guard down just yet, wanting to find out an explanation to figure out what was going on. From the decapitated bodies alone, you were curious for answers. “What happened here?” Sam asked the vampire.

“Gordon Walker. I should have never brought a hunter here. Never.” He mumbled, pushing himself up to his feet again. He turned around to face the three of you, letting you catch the sight of his wet cheeks, obviously from crying from the loss of his new creations. But you were thrown off from his soft side, still bracing yourself for whatever attack he still might try and pull. Someone like Gordon must have been well known amongst vampires, it was the man’s specialty after all. And someone like Dixon would be itching to kill him. Of course, his plan backfired. “I just–I just wanted some kind of revenge. Stupid–exposing him to my family.”

“Oh yeah,” You mumbled, “You’re such a family man.”

Sam eyed the man for a moment before he was slowly heading over to the bodies, wanting to take closer inspection of what happened to them. Dixon was showing no signs to start putting up a fight, eyeing the hunter for a moment before focusing his gaze on you from the unwanted comment. “You don’t understand.” He said, you let out a scoff from his excuse.

“I don’t want to understand, you sick son of a–”

“I was desperate. You ever felt desperate?” Dixon asked, slowly taking a step forward to you, which prompted you to take a few back. But he followed you around, making each of you circle around, waiting to see what happened next. “I’ve lost everyone I ever loved. I’m staring down eternity alone. Can you think of a worse hell?”

Dean, being one for sarcastic remarks, answered for you. “Well, there’s Hell.”

Dixon let out the faintest laugh, obviously finding everything of what was going on as some sort of cruel joke. “I wasn’t thinking. I just…I didn’t care anymore. Do you know what it’s like, when you just don’t give a damn?” He asked, you swallowed as he slowly headed over to you, prompting the knife to come closer out for him to know you were serious. But he just kept coming closer. “It’s like, it’s like being dead already. So just go ahead. Do it.”

Your eyes flickered down for the knife, almost thinking about doing what he wanted, but your attention was drawn back to the dead bodies that Sam was inspecting. From the expression that was settling on his face, you knew it wasn’t good news he was about to deliver. “Guys. The dead wasn’t cut off, it was ripped off. With someone’s bare hands.” He said, making your stomach twist in disgust from the news. Your gaze turned itself on the vampire, knowing very well he wouldn’t have done it. Your grip tightened around the knife when you saw the man start to become overwhelmed with grief at the disaster he set up for himself. “Dixon, what did you do to Gordon?”

Silence could be the only answer from the dots you were beginning to connect. And as if things weren’t getting any easier, you could feel the disaster had just doubled up in size. Dixon had given Gordon the best revenge he thought would be best, and that was, by turning him into the monster he’d hunted for years. Gordon was a bloodthirsty vampire–with heightened senses and perfected skills to match. You knew well enough this situation had suddenly taken a twist you weren’t expecting to come towards. And making revenge a bit harder.

+ + +

This city wasn’t big enough to hide one person; Gordon was out there and you were going to find him, one way or another. You compiled a list of all the motels and abandoned warehouses in the area for someone like Gordon to hide out until the sun went down again. Sam and Dean were out for the remainder of the new day, leaving you behind to dwell on everything you could be doing to help. But here you were, sitting at the table with a map of the city and a handwritten list of places you crossed out after the boys texted you what was a bust. You let out a quiet sigh, reaching up a hand for your pencil, getting ready to mark off another name on the list. While Sam had arrived back just an hour ago, Dean was still out there, finishing up his own search before coming back to the motel to figure out a new plan of how to take down the new and improved Gordon Walker.

You rubbed the back of your neck again when you felt a headache beginning to form from all the stress that was happening. It’d been months since you’ve gotten such a bad episode, and with the painkillers that you took a while ago, you thought it would have gone away. You looked up for a moment after examining the map to see that Sam was staring at you, and from his expression, it was like he was growing concerned. You knew headaches were once a struggle for him, always be a sign for a vision that was about to come. But ever since the demon was dead, there was no more of them, and you’ve been clear of any strange behavior for the most part. You gave him a weak smile, hoping he would just brush it off and think of it just as a stress headache, you were.

Your attention drifted away from the papers when the motel door opened, revealing Dean, who look exhausted from his hunt. He closed the door behind him and let out a sigh, obviously from how he looked, there was no good news that was about to follow. “Man, I must have checked three dozen motels, empty buildings, warehouses.” Dean said, listing everything that you had given him for the search. He headed over to the table you and Sam were sitting on, discarding his jacket on the free chair before heading to the bathroom. Part of you wanted to say something about helping out, but you kept your lips shut, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, me too.” Sam said, glancing down at the map he’d been examining. “Big city.”

“It’s like a giant haystack and Gordon’s a deadly needle.” Dean remarked. He bent down to turn on the faucet, splashing his face with cold water to wake himself up before grabbing a towel for drying off. “We’re running out of daylight. Won’t have the sun slowing him down.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled in frustration at the obvious fact, “He’ll be unstoppable.”

You sank back into your seat and let out the faintest noise of annoyance. You ran your fingers through your hair, eyeing the map from the different angle. If there was something you could do right now, you would be doing it. But knowing the boys, they were going to try anything to keep you under lock and key. It was clear enough a certain someone wanted your head on a silver platter. Sam was in the same situation as you with a target painted on his back. Yet, he was stronger, giving a better chance at protecting himself if something were to happen. That’s what the excuse would be if you tried speaking up about lending another person to this wild goose chase of finding a hunter turned bloodthirsty vampire.

Everyone had dropped the conversation for a few minutes making your attention turn to compiling a list of remaining buildings that could have been a possible place where Gordon was hiding out. You were happy to see at least half a dozen buildings were left, and from the spaces marked on the map, it wouldn’t take long for someone to search and be back before dusk. But as you looked up, you saw Dean was staring at the window for a moment before he was heading for the duffel bag, about to start another plan you weren’t going to agree to.

“Sammy, Y/N, I want you to stay here.” Dean instructed. You furrowed your eyebrows as you pushed yourself to a standing position, leaning over the table to see what he was grabbing. You asked him where he was going, but you knew the answer when he pulled out the colt and the small wooden box of bullets. “You heard me. I’m going after Gordon.”

“Not alone, you’re not.” You said. “I’m coming with you.”

Dean brushed off the concern that was beginning to rise in your voice. Someone like Gordon Walker wasn’t afraid to spill some blood if it meant getting what he wanted, and he proved that before when he kidnapped you and Dean. Plus the little shooting practice just the day before was even more evidence. You narrowed your eyes at him and placed your hands on your hips. “He’s after you, not me, and he’s turbocharged.”

You rolled your eyes from his excuse, “So you think I can’t handle myself out there?”

“I never said that, Y/N. I just want you to stay out of harm’s way.” Dean said. He was beginning to load the gun faster, roughly putting it back together as he glanced up to you for a moment. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” You argued with him. “You’re gonna get killed.“

Dean shrugged his shoulders, brushing off your worries a simple joke and wink, acting as if you were just gonna play along like he wanted. "Just another day at the office.” He said with the most nonchalant tone. “It’s a massively dangerous day at the office.”

You let out the slightest laugh as you shook your head in annoyance from how he was treating you. “So you’re the guy with nothing to lose, huh? Oh, wait. Let me guess.” You said, pretending to think about it for a moment before you look down at him again. “It’s because you’re already dead inside, right? Jump in buddy, tell me when I’m warm.”

"If the shoe fits.” Dean mumbled, brushing off your sarcasm with more of his own. You moved around your jaw for a moment before you couldn’t take it anymore, deciding to start your own search for the fellow hunter. You headed back to the table, snatching the list of buildings that still needed to be searched and the map, folding it back up before you shoved the papers into your back pockets. If he wanted to be reckless, two could play that game. “What are you doing, Y/N?”

You didn’t answer his question right away. You walked over to your own bag, and with your back turned to the brothers, you snatched out the syringes full of dead man’s blood and a hunting knife. It wasn’t exactly a best weapon to be carrying around, but it was something to slow him down if you saw the man in his new state. You had at least three hours before the sun set. That was enough time to find out the man’s hideout and head back. As you stuffed the syringes in your back pocket for safekeeping, you glanced over at Dean, knowing you still needed to give a response.

“What does it look like? I’m going after Gordon myself.” You answered the man, reaching to grab your jacket and pushed your arm through the sleeve, ignoring the glares coming from the brothers. You saw Dean open his mouth, getting ready to scream and shout, say anything to make you stay. But just like him, you had nothing to lose. “This is my fault. I should be the one to find him.”

"And what are you gonna do after?” Dean questioned you, acting like you had no clue what you were doing. “What’s your next big move after you find a bloodthirsty vamp?”

You pulled out one of the syringes from your pocket, waving it around slightly to show him your backup. “I’m going to subdue him with dead man’s blood and tie him up. Then I’m going to call you and we all can play a friendly game of ‘Hide and Seek.’ Whoever finds the bastard first can kill him. Sounds like a way better plan than yours, doesn’t it?”

Dean wasn’t finding anything you were saying to him funny. He placed the colt down on the chair he was previously sitting on and headed forward to you “That’s real cute. But you’re still staying here. I can handle this one on my own.” He said, you shake your head in disbelief and cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want me to do, Y/N, huh–sit around all day writing sad poems about how I’m gonna die? Hey, you know what? I got one. Since you’re so smart, tell me. What rhymes with 'Shut up, Y/N?’”

“Let me think, maybe something like 'You’re a dick, Dean.’ Seems pretty catchy to me, don’t you think?” You asked him, raising your eyebrows slightly as you waited for his comeback. But he just grabbed his jacket from the chair you were standing near, not bothering to continue this fight. “Look, just drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punchline. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you’re not afraid.”

“I’m not!”

“Please, you’re lying right through your teeth! You may as well drop the little act 'cause I can see right through you. I know you and Sammy better than you know yourselves.” You said, Dean responded with a loud scoff as he rolled his eyes, heading across the room to avoid this conversation. “You’re scared, Dean. We all are. But maybe if you stopped being such a stubborn bastard for one day maybe I could make all of this stop. After all, it’s my fault you’re going to Hell.”

Dean glanced up from the colt he was holding, taken back from what you said. His furrowed his brow as he opened his mouth to say something about it not being, but you knew deep down, all of this mess was started back before Sam died. “If I took that stupid deal back when I could, Sam would still be alive. But because of me, he died and you sold your soul away. No, I’m not making that mistake again.” You said, shaking your head as you grabbed your own jacket from the back of your chair. “Gordon is my problem. At least let me track him down. I need to learn how to clean up my messes because in a year from now, you’re not gonna be here to do it for me.”

You stood there for a moment, waiting for either one of the boys to say something, but for once, they had nothing to come back at you with. It might have been a bold move to be running around town with a vampire on the loose. Gordon could pick up your scent, hear your heartbeat coming from a mile away. But you knew you had at least one advantage, he couldn’t turn you into the monster he hunted. When the room was silent, you walked out the motel door, suddenly hoping you were doing the right thing. This was your fault, you might as well learn some consequences.

+ + +

Five places crossed off the list, one more to go.

You had to admit, this whole tracking down someone in the middle of a big city was harder than you had anticipated. But you had covered enough ground in the past couple hours, a bit relieved to see that most warehouses were abandoned of any living soul. There was the occasional rat that would pop out, making you jump out of your skin, but there was no Gordon to say hello. You glanced down at your watch to see that it was going on the late afternoon, but with winter coming, the sun would be setting soon. You arrived at the last destination on your list with at least a half an hour to spare before dusk would be falling. It was an industrial sized building that stood at least five stories tall, giving someone a lot of space to hide. The little voice in the back of your mind was telling you to call for the boys, knowing each of you could cover more ground.

You pulled out your phone and contemplated for a moment of deciding to either call them or not. You let out a sigh, breaking down and punching the familiar number into the keypad before placing it to your ear. It rang and rang, making you grow with concern when all you got was voicemail from Sam. That was strange, he always answered. You decided to swallow your pride and try Dean next, hoping he would pick up himself and settle differences aside to finish this loose end once and for all. Yet the phone on the other end rang until you heard the familiar message of the female automated voicemail telling you to leave a message. You rolled your eyes as you headed forward, deciding to take a sweep of the first floor, presuming you weren’t going to find anything here like the other places.

“Dean, it’s me, Y/N. Look, I know we didn’t leave on the best of terms but I can’t find him anywhere.” You said, examining the empty floor that was nothing but concrete floors and brick walls. There were some windows here, but they were boarded up, blocking out any sort of sunlight. What a perfect place to hide if you were a newbie vampire, you thought. “But I’m just checking out one last place before I leave. If you don’t hear from here soon, I wouldn’t blame you to start taking some–” You stopped talking when you heard the sounds of something crashing from behind you. Quickly turning on your heels, you were expecting to be face to face with Gordon himself, but there was nobody there. “Look, I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry about me.”

You ended the message and shoved the phone back into your pocket. You decided to head forward to where you heard the crash, wondering if there was something there. As you walked, you didn’t try and quiet your footsteps, knowing if Gordon was here, he very well would have heard you.You walked passed an old metal shelf that was littered with old tools that were rusting and collecting dust, but as you passed too closely, you let out a sudden gasp from the unexpected pain. You glanced down to see that you accidentally brushed against a nail that was sticking out from the shelf, making a small gash against your leg that cut your jeans and tore a small scratch in your skin. As you bent down to take a closer look, you frowned when you saw that you had got wounded enough to draw a bit of blood to the surface. This wasn’t exactly good. If he was tempted to kill you, this might have added another nail in your coffin for the possible danger that lurked ahead.

You dropped your leg back down to the ground, deciding this was your final warning about how stupid this plan really was. As you turned yourself back around on your heels to walk out, you were taken by surprise when you saw a young woman standing in front you, staring at you with the most panicked expression.You furrowed your eyebrows from what was going on, and as you opened your mouth to ask her what she was doing here, she answered the question before you could even speak. “Help me.” She whispered in the most soften tone, you barely heard her. “I don’t know what he did to me. But it hurts. Everything hurts me.”

Maybe you stumbled upon something else, but as you glanced down, you saw that her arm was cut with blood still dripping out of her wound. You glanced back up at the woman, not sure of how to handle this situation. Part of you was reaching for the phone in your back pocket, wondering if she could have been just some random girl caught up in a bad situation, but from what she did next, you knew she wasn’t normal anymore. She leaned over and sniffed the air, taking the deep aroma of dust and mildew into her lungs like it was the best thing she ever smelled. “You gotta help me. I’m so hungry. I don’t know what he did, but I just need to eat.” She whimpered out, taking a closer step forward to you as you tried distancing yourself from her. “I just wanna go home.”

“You will, I promise.” You said, trying to keep her calm as you tried thinking of a new plan. You reached for one of the syringes in your pocket, hoping you would be quick enough to do this before she found out. You did this before to Lucy. All you had to do was subdue her and run like hell back to the motel. “Let me make a quick call to my friends. They’ll help us.”

You barely had your hand wrapped around the syringe before she was losing control of herself, letting the new bloodlust sink in. You could feel yourself being thrown back against a near wall when she lunged herself at you, her teeth transforming themselves into the new set she was given. You couldn’t help yourself but let out a yelp of pain from the unfamiliar pain of her fangs digging themselves into your flesh, viciously getting whatever blood she could get drawn to the surface. It almost seemed like a race against time as you tried your hardest to save your strength as she pinned you down. You snuck a hand inside your back pocket, praying that you had one shot left of the dead man’s blood after you dropped the rest of them from the unexpected attack.

You were beginning to grow lightheaded from the blood that was being completely drained out of your body. You tried giving her a test shove, but all she did was roughly bite you again before continuing her feast. You took a deep breath and popped the top off the syringe, quickly slamming the needle into her neck, pushing down so the blood was now running in her system. It took a moment before you let out a sigh of relief from the pressure being lifted from your body as she began reacting to what’d you given her. The girl violently coughed as she tried her hardest to fight off the poison, but just like you presumed, she collapsed to the floor seconds later.

“Son of a bitch.” You muttered underneath your breath, closing your eyes as you tried to reach a finger to inspect the damage she’d done. It was a pretty nasty tear, but you would survive. Now all you had to do was somehow find the strength and get yourself back before she woke up. You didn’t exactly know how long the blood would keep her out. But as you took one step forward, you fell backward, making you press your palms against the wall. You blinked a few times, suddenly being overcome with a dizzy spell. “Woah, take it easy, girl.”

The room was growing fuzzy as you blinked a few times, trying to keep yourself to keep focus on the entrance. She must have took more blood than you realized because you were feeling like the time you donated blood on an empty stomach, but with the added effect of spinning around too many times afterward. You took a deep breath and steadied yourself for a moment, deciding to let yourself for a minute. As you slid down to the ground, you were trying your hardest not to slip out if. You kept yourself busy by trying to pull out your cell phone again and began punching in the familiar number. You barely managed to hit the send button before you couldn’t take it anymore, the phone crashed to the ground as you saw a blurry figure coming forward before you slipped out of consciousness.

+ + +

“Where the hell is she?” Dean grumbled underneath his breath, pushing the curtain aside to take a peek around the motel parking lot again. From where he was standing he could see the sun beginning to set, marking the fourth hour that you were gone. He frowned to see that there was nobody around as he stepped away, wrapping his fingers tighter around the machete as Sam continued burning something heinous to cover up their scent. Night was falling which meant that Gordon was lurking the streets and you still weren’t around. It was enough to connect the dots of what he feared could happen next.

“Call her again.” Sam suggested, waving out the flame in the match before throwing it away into the trashcan across from his feet. His brother rolled his eyes, obviously that’s what he’d been doing for the past hour, leaving her long messages, hoping that at least one would be returned with an annoyed one saying that you were fine and you would be safely returning home soon. “Dude, Y/N’s probably on her way back. Her phone probably died or something. She did leave here pretty heated. I wouldn’ blame her for wanting to blow some steam off.”

The comment wasn’t what Dean was expecting from his brother, but he brushed it off, not wanting to cause another fight between them. He knew that you were right about not being around in a year and how you needed to defend yourself. But Gordon Walker was a special kind of crazy that neither of you had seen before, and with being a newly transformed vampire, there was trouble to be followed if anyone got in his path. Dean finally made himself take a seat in one of the chairs, deciding to take his brother’s advice and pull out his cell phone, starting the mental debate of calling you again. But before he could settle on a plan, his phone began ringing.

"It’s her.” Dean announced when he saw that Sam was surprised at the superb timing. His brother walked over, dragging over a chair to overhear the conversation that was about take place. Dean didn’t even let it go to the second ring before he flipped it open and placed the phone against his ear, answering in the calmest tone he could muster up. “Hello, Y/N?”

“You might want to take another guess.”

Dean’s handle around the phone turned into a knuckle white when he realized who he was speaking to instead. He glanced over at his brother, knowing it was the last person either one of them wanted to hear from. “Gordon. How’d you get Y/N’s phone?”

"She was generous enough to lend it to me after I caught her scent around town, decided to have a little fun.” Gordon said. “But the only people that are missing out on this adventure is you and Sammy.” Gordon said. Where are you?“

"I guess you’ll just have to find us.”

“I’d rather come to you.”

“What’s the matter, Gordo?” Dean asked the fellow hunter, deciding to push his buttons for a bit of fun. “Let me guess, Y/N stab you with some of that nasty dead man’s blood and made a run for it. Now, why don’t you just come here and we’ll have some fun. That is, of course, begs the question. You’re not afraid of us, are you? We’re just sitting here. Bring it on!”

There was a slight pause from over the phone before another familiar voice came from the other line, the one that he’d been wanting to hear all along. “Dean? Is that you?” It was confirmation that you were still alive, but knowing Gordon, for how long and at what terms they had to follow. But before Dean could get any word in, he was greeted to the voice of Gordon, giving him what he dreaded to hear.

“Factory on Riverside off the turnpike. Be here in twenty minutes or Y/N and someone else dies.” Gordon instructed. “But you better rush. She’ll lose even more blood if you aren’t quick.”

"Gordon! Don’t do this.” Dean said, trying to persuade the man. He didn’t seem to think that someone like Gordon would pull another person into this mess, but it seemed he was willing to do a lot from his new transformation. And what he mentioned about you made Dean’s stomach fill with nervousness, wondering happened to you. “You don’t kill innocent people. You’re still a hunter.”

“No, I’m a monster.” And with that excuse, the line went dead.

+ + +

You were awake, but you couldn’t open your eyes just yet, only part away. Everything around you was fuzzy and the room was spinning around you. It dawned on you that something was wrong. You could feel an immense amount of pain coming from the crook of your neck when you shifted around slightly in your spot when you tried to get comfortable, but another problem was beginning to arise. Something sticky covered the skin and soaked itself into your shirt. You forced yourself to open your eyes to see what it was. Even though almost everything was still hazy, you caught sight of a familiar shade of crimson red, causing you to be taken back from the sight. And just like that, you began to remember what happened before you landed yourself here. You were alone, trying your hardest to find where Gordon was. But it seemed that he was one step ahead because here you were, trying your hardest to cling on to whatever strength you had left.

Footsteps echoed off the cement walls as they began growing louder, someone was coming. You made yourself try to test out the binds that were keeping you stuck sitting on this dusty ground with your bottom feeling numb from however long you were lying here for. But even if you could somehow get out, you knew there was no way you could protect yourself. It was quiet for a moment before you heard a familiar voice break the silence, it was Gordon. You heard him say something before he was hovering over you, he pressed something metal and cold against your ear. “—We’re just sitting here. Bring it on!” You furrowed your eyebrows from the familiar tone of the voice. It took you a moment before you realized Gordon was holding a phone against your ear.

“Dean?” You asked, wanting some sort of confirmation of what was going on. But you realized that your voice was quiet and low, barely even hearing yourself. You managed to gather enough strength, taking a deep breath in before speaking again. “Is that you?”

Before you could get the answer, Gordon ripped the phone away from your ear, prompting you to give a dirty glare if you weren’t so exhausted. You heard him say a location that you knew wasn’t the one you had traveled to. But before you listen to anymore of the conversation, you were slowly losing yourself back into the slumber that you’d tried fighting off.

+ + +

The brothers made it to the factory in under the time limit, afraid of what might happen. Maybe it was because Dean went speeding down the highway, ignoring whatever stop sign or red light that came his way. Luckily there were no cops around, and even if there was one, nothing was going to stop them. Dean could only feel responsible for what was happening. God forbid if something were to happen, nothing would let him let him forget about it. He wandered down the halls with Sam by his side, the both of them creeping through the dimly lit path. The place was still furnished with old shelves and work equipment, giving them at least a fighting chance to hide if something were to jump out at them. But with each creak and groan that echoed through the halls, it had them looking over their shoulders with caution, wondering when Gordon was going to pop out. But he still remained in the shadows.

Dean approached a corner, easing down as he put up a hand for his brother to stop when he heard something. He quietly walked forward as he positioned the colt, ready to aim for whatever what lying on the other side, but what he saw wasn’t a threat at all. His face dropped to see that it was the woman that Gordon had mentioned, and while she seemed frightened, she was alive. Sam headed forward to the woman as Dean continued his search for you. He couldn’t help but dread the thought that Gordon might have done something stupid, deciding to hide you away to make this game fun for him. But the thoughts seemed to have vanished a relief washed over him to see that you were just across the way. He tucked there colt into the back of his pants pocket for a moment as he headed forward, wanting to inspect everything about to you, wondering what happened.

“Y/N,” He whispered out your name, hoping that would be enough to stir you awake. But when you didn’t respond, he began to grow concerned, knowing the sight of your bloodstained shirt wasn’t a good sign from what you endured. He reached out a hand and gently pressed two fingers against the crook of your neck, holding his breath for a moment when he couldn’t feel a heartbeat. But when he pressed harder, he let out sigh of relief when the faint beat vibrate against his skin. “Oh, thank God.”

Even though it was clear enough through your wounds that you had gotten attacked, more rougher than anything he saw on other victims, it was clear enough that you were going to live. You must have figured out what was going on because the next thing he knew you were staring at him with eyes only half open. He reached hand inside for his knife, knowing from how tight the bonds were around your wrists, it was beginning to dig inside your skin at the red marks that were showing up. As he worked quickly to get you free, you were coming back around. You let out a sigh of relief from the freedom of being able to move around your wrists as you leaned yourself against the wall, trying your hardest to catch your breath. You felt so dizzy and sweaty, you just needed to get out of here. You opened your mouth to try and explain what was going on, about the threat that Gordon left you with, but Dean quietly shushed you.

“Come on. We need to get out of here.” Dean warned you, knowing there was a chance that Gordon was lurking around here. You knew there was no denying you didn’t want to be around when that monster came back. He managed to get you to your feet, but with just taking a few steps, your knees buckled from under the pressure. Dean didn’t take any chances knowing time was running out. He wrapped an arm around your waist and tightened his grip on your arm that was draped over his shoulder, and without a warning, he was hoisted you up, carrying you bridal style out of the building.

The both of you managed to head forward to the entrance where he had came in with his brother. Sam stood in the doorway with the girl standing at his side, becoming antsy with everything that was going on. As you looked forward, you could feel your blood beginning to go cold. She was scared out of her mind from what she had went through, but she couldn’t control herself. And with the taste of human blood running through her system, you knew it was a matter of time before she wanted more. Dean put you down on your feet after you mentioned something about feeling just a bit better, adrenaline was making you feel that way. You shifted your gaze over at her when Dean decided to help her out first, knowing she was nearly acting like a caged animal from how her eyes were wandering around the place as her hands shook with nervousness. But you knew it was something else.

Dean mentioned something about staying close as Sam helped you get out, but either one of you barely made it a step before he was yanking you backward when the metal door came swinging down, making the both of you trapped inside. You could hear the yells of Dean coming from the other side as he banged his fist, trying his hardest to figure out a way to get the both of you out. Sam kicked the door with all his might, suddenly becoming frustrated with what was going on. He let out a breath and glanced down at you, nodding his head for you to stay close. You didn’t have a problem with that. As you began thinking of ways to get out, you suddenly stopped when everything turned pitch black. Gordon had you both trapped with no way to go and there wasn’t a chance in hell you could see your hand in front of your face. And here you thought things couldn’t get any worse.

“Stay close.” Sam whispered, reaching out an arm to see where you were. You knew there was the faintest amount of moonlight coming from inside the building, but you couldn’t see anything from Sam’s towering body that was shielding you from whatever danger that might be lurking ahead. The both of you began trying your hardest to walk in sync, feeling around for anything that could tell you where you were. It was hard to keep yourself up in standing position, but Sam worked with you, taking slow steps as he tried figuring out where he was. “Gordon, you got me where you want me. Why don’t you let Y/N go and we can settle this ourselves. If you want a fight, might as well come out from hiding!”

“I’m right here, Sam.” Gordon’s voice echoed through the building, and if you were correct, it was coming from behind. The both of you quickly spun around, expecting to find Gordon standing there, but there was nothing. A chuckle rang through your ears, it was almost haunting from how evil he could sound, like he was enjoying the sight of you two squirming under the pressure he was cracking down on you. “What’s the matter, Sammy?”

“So, this is really the way you want to do it, huh?” Sam asked the fellow hunter.

“Damn right I do.” Gordon answered. You could his voice, but you didn’t know where he was. Little did you or Sam know, but the man was watching you in the shadows, seeing how the both of you were trying your hardest to look for something that wasn’t even there. He would make his attack. But not yet. “You have no idea what I faced to get here. I lost everything…my life. But it’s worth it ‘cause I’m finally gonna kill the most dangerous things I ever hunted. You and that bratty friend of yours, neither one of you are human.”

You let out a scoff, finding the energy to relatate at his accusation. “Look who’s talking, asshole.”

Sam picked up on the distant sounds of footsteps approaching and took his chance, swinging the machete into the air, hoping he would hear the grunts of pain coming from Gordon. But all he ended up was aiming for the air, hitting nothing. “You’re right, Y/N.” Gordon said, for once agreeing with the truth. “I’m a bloodthirsty killer.”

“Don’t talk about it like you don’t have a choice.” Sam argued with the man. “You didn’t kill that girl. You could have drained Y/N dry, but you didn’t.”

Gordon let out an amused chuckle, “No, I didn’t. I didn’t lay a finger on Y/N. I did something much, much worse to the girl.” Gordon explained, you knew it was just a matter of time before the truth slipped out. All you kept hoping for that Dean was quick enough to figure out what was going on before she attacked him next. “I got hand it to the both of you. You got a lot of people fooled, but, see, I know the truth. I know what it’s like. We’re the same now. I know how it is walking around with something evil inside.” Gordon watched from a safe distance as you and Sam were slowly being back into a corner. Everything was going according to plan. “It’s just too bad you won’t do the right thing and kill yourself. I’m gonna, as soon as I’m done with the both of you. Three last good deeds–killing you, killing Y/N…and killing myself.”

When your back pressed itself against the wall, you knew there was no way of getting out of this one without a few scratches. You took a deep breath before you silenced your breathing, wondering when Gordon was going to make his move. You looked around in the darkness as you tried your hardest to move around your arms, hoping that you would bump against Sam. But as you took just one step forward away from the wall, you felt something wrap around your wrist, and before you realized it, the person was Gordon. He easily flung you across the room, getting you out of the way for the main target. You roughly slid across the concrete, your palms burning from the attempts at you trying to get yourself steady. You could hear the sounds of wood breaking and a loud crash echoing through the air. Looking up, you saw that Gordon and Sam crashed into another room, letting the real fight to begin.

You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring how your body felt like it was in excruciating pain. Sam might have been the stronger one here, but you had to help. You headed for the large opening in the wall, quick to notice that the machete was lying on the ground. Sam was across the room, trying his hardest to brush off the pain after he was thrown into a metal shelf. You saw that Gordon was stalking forward, giving you a small window of opportunity. If you were going to help, this was your chance. When Gordon’s back was turned, you swiftly grabbed the machete, working through the aching muscles and blood loss that was making the room spin like crazy.

You took a deep breath and tighten your grip on the handle, getting ready to swing at the hunter when he picked up on the sounds. You took your opportunity and tried your hardest to swing, but Gordon was faster than you. He quickly dodged your attack by grabbing a hold of your arm, easily using your lack of muscle to overpower you. Now that you were unarmed, he yanked you backward, throwing you against the wall as you tumbled down. You tried your hardest to brush off the pain, but you were staying down longer than he liked. Gordon leaned down and grabbed a hold you by the collar of your shirt, forcing you back up to your feet, getting ready to finish this once and for all. You let out a gasp of pain when he roughly shoved you against the wall, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Before you realized it, he was sinking his teeth back into your wound, drinking of what blood you had left inside your body.

Sam blinked a few times, dragging himself back into the reality of what was going on. He worked through the aches and pain, wondering where Gordon was. He looked around until he saw straight ahead to see the bastard had his hands on you. Sam could feel the anger beginning to course through his veins as rage took over his actions. He pushed himself up to a standing position and lunged forward at the man, taking a sneak attack by wrapping his fingers together into a tight fist and roughly swinging against the back of Gordon’s’ neck.

You fell to the floor after Gordon was forced to back away, knowing he was being tapped into another fight. You tried your hardest to focus on what was going on, but you were feeling worse than ever. You pressed a hand against your sticky neck as you leaned yourself against the wall, trying your hardest to catch your breath as the fight unfolded in front of you. Sam and Gordon were ruthless with one another, throwing punches and tossing each other around. It seemed that Gordon might win this one, but Sam had a secret weapon he was hiding. Sam wrapped a wool blanket of some sort around a string of barbed wire, and before Gordon realized it, the wire was wrapped itself around his neck. The younger man used all his energy and squeezed until the fellow hunter stopped struggling. You could hear Gordon’s coughs and groans as blood began to fill his lungs from what Sam was doing to him.

It seemed like an eternity before your eyes jumped open for a split second when you heard the soft thumping sound echo through the eerily quiet room. You could see clear enough that Sam had somehow ripped the man’s head off as Gordon’s body dropped to his knees, as if this was his final surrender. Your mouth gaped open at the bloody sight, not even seeming to notice that Dean managed to get himself back into the room, hoping he wasn’t too late to help fight. But he stopped in his tracks when he saw his brother and a headless Gordon just across the way. It wasn’t what he was expecting, but it was better than what he imagined.

You placed a hand against the wall and began to try and push yourself to a standing position. As much as you wanted to enjoy this victory, you needed to lie down and make this bleeding stop. Somehow you managed to get yourself to your feet with using almost all the energy inside your body. You made it a few steps, all though you were a bit wobbly, you were determined to make it out of here without help. But you could see everything shift around around you, some objects doubling. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as a finger pointed to Sam, wondering why he wasn’t staying still. But that was the least of your worries as you began to breathe more rapidly as you placed your hands on your hips to try and steady yourself before falling down.

“Y/N, you don’t look so good. ” Dean said in a concerned tone. All the natural color in your face seemed to have been washed out, leaving you with a pale shade that was beginning to make them grow worried. You tried brushing it off as nothing, mumbling something as you took one step forward. But just like before, you could feel your knees buckle underneath, making your body come tumbling forward. Quick as he could, Dean managed to catch you before you landed flat on the floor. He easily pick up your body, positioning you around before letting out a quiet sigh. He glanced over at his brother, shaking his head from the outcome as Sam couldn’t help himself but let the faintest smile spread across his lips to see that you were passed out again. “Let’s get Sleeping Beauty back to the motel. Because when she wakes up, I think she’s gonna wanna hear about all of this.”

+ + +

It’d been a few hours since arriving back from the factory; the brothers decided to take the chance and book another room out of town, not sure if Gordon’s partner was still out there and it would have been nice for a change to not sleep in such a dump. Sam was out for a quick run to the store for some food rich in iron after the bloodspill that you took for this hunt. Dean kept himself preoccupied by sitting on the motel beside the one that you were lying on and cleaning the array of weapons that ranged from guns and knives. But he couldn’t help himself to glance up almost every other minute, his eyes lingering down to the clean bandage Sam placed on your neck after cleaning your wound before he looked up to your face to see that you were sleeping peacefully.

This was the third time he could have almost lost you. Dean let out a sigh, knowing that everything you were trying to do was just to help. But he couldn’t end up down there like the rest of your family was. Nobody deserved to end up in Hell. “You’ve got guts, I have to admit that.” Dean mumbled, his lips twitching into the slightest smile as he glanced back over at you again. “Always been the stubborn woman who takes no for an answer. Man, am I gonna miss that.” He smile faulted for a moment when he said those words. He swallowed, knowing the rush of anxiety began filling his mind again. But he shook his head. “Look, I know you think I’m hard on you and Sammy about this whole deal. But it’s not your problem. None of this is.”

He felt sort of strange for saying these things to someone that was sleeping, who couldn’t even hear him. And it was almost too cliched, but he didn’t care. “But if I could change things…you know I would. You don’t understand, but I wish things were different for you and Sammy. I wish that you two didn’t have to hunt. But I need you alive. I need someone to look out for Sammy, make sure he’s okay when I’m gone.” I wasn’t lying when I said you were stronger than me. I always loved that about you. I think that’s why I let you stay.“ Dean admitted. He shook his head, knowing that he was going to admit something he didn’t want to right away. "I’ve got a head full of things I want and I can’t even make them come true. Even with this damn deal hanging over my head.”

Dean opens his mouth, almost wanting to admit something else, but before he could, the motel door swings open. He cranks his head upwards to see that Sam arrived back with a few paper bags in his hands and a confused look on his face, almost like he overheard everything. Dean reaches up a hand to scratch the back of his neck before glancing down at the weapons, hoping his brother would ignore everything that just happened. And sure enough, he didn’t.

"You’ve been watching her since I left, haven’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

+ + +

A few days passed and you’re feeling better than ever, well for what someone can with teeth marks as battle wounds from the last fight with Gordon Walker. You and the boys were back on the road after they thought you were well enough to travel for long hours at a time. But you had made a small detour after Baby was beginning to make a different sound that Dean didn’t happen to like. So now the three of you were sitting in the middle of the empty back roads of the woods; Dean had the hood popped open as he began working around with the engine. You leaned yourself against the Impala as your attention lingered down to see Sam grab a few beers from the cooler, knowing it was going to be awhile until all of you were back on the road. You reached out a hand to grab one from him after he gave one to his brother. But all it ended was him giving you a disapproving look as he shook his head.

“You need to take it easy, Y/N.” Sam said in the most responsible voice. You tilted your head to the side and gave him an annoyed look, he broke his little act and handed the one he opened over to you, letting out a faint laugh before grabbing one for himself. Sam sat down on the cooler and twisted off the top, throwing it across the field before directing his attention to his brother. “Figure out what’s making that rattle?”

“Not yet.” Dean answered, leaning back up for a moment as his arm extended outward. He pointed at something on the ground, you glanced over, not sure what he needed. “Give me a box wrench, would you?” It took only one glance before Sam picked out the right tool, he grabbed a hold of it and gave it to his brother. Dean took it and looked back over at the engine, but he fell silent for a moment. You glanced over to see what was making him suddenly turn deep into thought. Sam asked if he had grabbed the wrong one, but it seemed his brother shook his head. “No, come here for a second.” You placed the bottle on top of the roof as you leaned over, wondering what this was all about. “This rattle could be a couple of things. I’m thinking it’s an-out-of-tune car.”

You watched as the brothers began speaking about the parts inside the car, Dean going over certain parts to make sure Sam understood what was going on. In a small kind of way, it made you smile to see how normal almost all of this felt. Baby was Dean’s pride and joy, he would never let someone else even touch underneath the hood. But here he was, quizzing his little brother to see if he could fix the problem. Even though you knew deep down there was another reason why, you didn’t want to think about it. Right now you just let yourself nurse the cold beer and enjoy the feeling of normalcy wash over you.

Chapter Text

“You can do that for me? By the time I asked you? Oh, that would be amazing.” Your voice echos from the motel bathroom as your heels click against the floors. You slowly pacing around while the small room as the conversation draws on. You’ve been on the phone for the past fifteen minutes with someone after taking the call, mumbling something about it being urgent. Dean stands in front of the dresser mirror with his gaze on his tie that needs to be fixed before all of you head out. But every so often his eyes linger to the door that’s cracked open the slightest. Sam doesn’t seem to be paying attention as he finishes reading up the article he found in the paper again, making sure he knew everything before heading off to the wife for an interview. A laugh comes from the bathroom and Dean whips his head to look over his shoulder. “You don’t understand how much this means to me. It’s been something I’ve been planning for a while…Okay, thanks again. I’ll see you then.“

The bathroom door squeaks open as you flick off the light, making sure your outfit was pressed out without any wrinkles as you made sure the blouse was tucked in. You glanced up to see that Sam was pushing himself up from his bed and Dean was staring at you for longer than normal. You raised an eyebrow at him before you peeked at your reflection in the mirror. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and you checked your makeup at least twice in the mirror when you were on the phone. You shrugged off his concerned look and headed for the bed where you laid your lightest jacket you carried. Even though it was mildly cold outside, you still liked bundling up and pretending that the holidays were around the corner. As you slipped it on, you were walking to the motel door in the process, but you stopped when another thought came to mind from the conversation you wrapped up a minute ago.

"Hey, Dean.” You spoke up, bringing the older man’s attention toward you again. You gave him a bright smile as you tried everything in your power to make this plan work in your favor. This was going to be like pulling teeth, and even though there were other ways, it was worth a shot. “Can I borrow Baby for an hour tonight?”

The expression that spreads across Dean’s face isn’t what you were expecting. He seems more overcome with a nervous surprise as you furrowed your eyebrows with confusion. “Why?” His questions you in the most serious tone. You shrugged your shoulders, trying not to give your answers away. You give him a pleading look, the kind that always worked when you were desperate for something you needed. Like during the infamous time of month when disaster strikes. And just like that, he rolls his eyes, falling right for the trap. “Fine. But you’re filling the tank after you’re done.”

+ + +

You and the boys arrived at the home of the Walshes in the small town in Michigan to be greeted with the wife. A man happened to go missing a few nights ago with all the doors and windows locked, only leaving a bloody boot behind to suspect foul play. Nobody just disappears into thin air. So, you thought this might be a case. Sam had excused himself to take a look around in the home after the husband was somehow abducted without making a single noise. You and Dean talked to the wife on the porch to see if there was anything more she could tell you about that night. But you could feel your eyes being drawn to their only daughter that had to be no older than seven, she was staring at you two for the longest time. You gave her the smallest smile you could muster up, knowing the poor thing had to be scared out her mind right now. And to have her father missing before Christmas, you knew it was a double whammy nobody should be suffering through.

“Um, my daughter and I were in our beds. Mike was downstairs decorating the three. I heard a thump on the roof,” The wife explained, her arms were crossed tightly over her chest. You glanced up from the small notepad that you were writing in, jotting down things to look over later. But when she paused, you nodded your head, giving her a bit of confidence to continue on with the story even though this is where the grim truth came to light again. “And then I—I heard Mike scream, and now I’m talking to the FBI.”

“And you didn’t seen any of it?” You asked her.

“No, He was,” The woman paused for a moment before saying, “He was just gone.”

"The doors were locked?” Dean questioned the woman, keeping the act going as he pointed a finger to the front door he was standing just a foot from. “There was no forced entry?”

The woman nodded her head, “That’s right.”

You wrote down everything that you could see, making notes that you couldn’t see any damages around the windows and the decorations weren’t shifted out of place. “Does anybody else have a key?” You asked her, taking another route, wondering where it could lead. Sometimes there was more to the surface, a friendly neighbor holding dark grudges or maybe a family member who’s just crazy.

“My parents.” She said.

“And where do they live?”


You nodded your head as you scratched out the possible suspects, knowing Flordia was across the country and this time of year, everyone in their golden years was avoiding the winter like the plague. But here in the northern side of the states, there was not a single snowflake around or sign winter was here. You were beginning to boil in the jacket you thought a decent idea to wear. The only real chill you were getting from was the breeze that passed through every once in awhile, making it at least bearable. Sam stepped out the house after searching everything with his own eyes. You gave him a curious look, wondering what he managed to find as his eyes lingered over to the wife.

“Thanks for letting me have a look around, Mrs. Walsh.” Sam said, giving the woman a small smile as he stepped down from the front door and headed down to the porch where you and his brother were standing. The wife merely nodded her head, keeping her attention fixated on the ground as she hugged herself closer. “I think we, uh, got just about everything we need. We’re all set. And I promise, we’ll be in touch if anything else pops up.”

Mrs. Walsh meekly nodded her head when you gave her one last smile before you were tucking the notepad away into your pocket and following behind they brothers. As you stepped down after they were trailing to the parked Impala right across the street, the woman’s voice made you immediately stop in your tracks. “Agents,” She called out. You looked over your shoulder, wondering what she stopped you all for. She stood on the edge with her fingers loosely wrapped together as she fidgeted with a rush of nervousness. “T—The police said my husband might have been kidnapped. Then why haven’t they called o-or—or demanded a ransom? It’s three days to Christmas. What am I supposed to tell our daughter?”

You let out a quiet sigh from how the poor woman was feeling. “We’re very sorry.” You mumbled, not sure what else you could say to make anything better. The only response you got from her was an expression of dread from the lack of communication as she looked at the door, knowing she was to be faced with her daughter that might start asking a million questions about what happened. You and the boys let her slip inside as you began trailing back around again down the stairs, eyeing the decorations that were spread around the lawn before slipping between the brothers to figure out what you were dealing with. You looked over at Sam and asked, “Find anything?”

“Stockings, mistletoe,” Sam listed off a few of the normal things you would find in someone’s house before his hand slipped out his dress pants pocket to pull out something you weren’t expecting. It was a bloody tooth. You furrowed your eyebrows and reached out a hand to take a closer inspection. It looked too big to belong to a child and too rotten to be new, either. “I found it in the chimney.”

You extended your arm and dropped the tooth into his hand that just happened to be out while he was walking. You quickly wiped your palm down your jacket, grimacing from the germs that might have been lingering on your skin from what’d you touched. “No way he fits up in one piece.” You said, glancing back over at the house before back at the direction you were walking. “All right, so, if Dad went up the chimney—we need to figure out what dragged him up there.”

You glanced at each side of the road before you went walking across the street, heading for the parked Impala just along the way. Sam was about to follow behind, that was, until his brother called out his name, motioning for him to stop for a moment. He glances over at you for a second before turning his attention to Dean, wondering why they needed to speak in privacy. “Do you know who Y/N was talking to this morning, before we left?” The question made Sam’s brow scrunch upwards from why his brother needed to know. Sam looked back over at you, where you stood next to the car with your hands on your hips, looking impatiently at them. He shrugged his shoulders, not sure if he would considered it an important thing to worry about.

+ + +

“Tis the season.” You mumbled underneath your breath, You stood with your hands on your hips, staring at the bulletin board of everything you and Sam had been mapping out for the past few days. He was across the room, sitting on some hideous green colored couch as he busied himself with doing more research on the possible lead you and him had agreed on. It might have been a long shot, and no matter how crazy it sounded, you were beginning to suspect this was the real deal. You’ve seen all sorts of creatures that had been a mere legend until you started hunting. But your attention was broken from the array of newspaper article clippings and drawings when the motel door opened. Dean arrived back from his ever long list of research, but one question seemed on his mind after he shut the door behind him.

“So, was I right?” He asked, knowing he was working a rather comical theory before he left for the rest of the morning. “Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?”

“Yep. It’s actually Dick Van Dyke.” You answered, turning around in your spot to make a joke. But from how his face scrunched up with confusion and when he asked you who it was, you knew he wasn’t going to get the reference without a clue. “Mary Poppins?” Again, you were greeted with a blank expression. Well, there went your joke. You rolled your eyes, brushing off the pitiful attempts at making a funny suggestion to a character he clearly didn’t understand. “Never mind. Just tell me you found something useful.”

“I did.” Dean said. You waited a moment, giving him an expression to have explain what he found out around town. “It turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month.”

“Did the other guy get dragged out up the chimney, too?” Sam asked, breaking his concentration away from the laptop screen for a moment as Dean walked across the room, discarding his leather jacket to the bed.

“Don’t know. Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof.” Dean answered. You looked over at Sam, wondering if this had been the start of a connection that would lead these disappearances together. “So, what the hell do you think we’re dealing with?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and glanced around the room, deciding to figure out the right words to tell Dean the theory. This was where things were going to get awkward. “Well, we have an idea.” You began, but trailed off for a moment, making Dean nod his head head for you to elaborate more. “It’s gonna sound crazy.”

“Y/N, what could you possibly say to that sounds crazy to me?”

“…How about Evil Santa. ”

Dean’s lips were stretched out into a smile from the buildup you were making about this ordeal, thinking it couldn’t have been that bad. But you could see his facial expression slowly drop, all before they twisted themselves into the kind of look that made you feel like an idiot for even suggesting it. “Yeah, that sounds crazy.”

“Hear me out.” You said, walking across the room and headed for the coffee table where you laid out all the research that had been piling that ranged from old lore and drawings of what people thought the creature appeared to be. As you snatched it away, you stretched out your arm and handed the papers over to Dean so he could inspect your findings. “I’m just saying that there’s some version of the anti-clause in every culture. You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter. Whatever you want to call it, there’s all sorts of lore on these creatures.“

"Saying what?” He asked, wanting you to even further explain your reasoning for such an out of character suggestion. You and Sam normally gave suggestions that seemed logical and sometimes linked themselves toward other creatures that were related others you hunted. But this was almost out of a child’s book.

“Well, back in the day, Santa’s brother went rogue, and now he shows up around Christmas time.” You explained to him, walking over to the couch and taking a seat at the edge as Dean began to walk to the table that was underneath the window as he continued to scan your research. “Instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked.”

“By hauling their ass up chimneys?” He asked, his voice was full of disbelief from what you were forcing him to read. You nodded your head, seeming to think that might be the brother’s way of taunting Santa. When he brings joy, his evil brother snatches people and does God knows what to them. Dean let out a small scoff, obviously not finding this even remotely strong enough to go along with. “So, this your theory, huh? Santa’s shady brother?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam said, going for the defense of his research. “That’s what the lore says.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Santa doesn’t have a brother. There is no Santa.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam mumbled. “You’re the one who told me that in the first place, remember?”

“You could feel the mood shift around ever so slightly in the room from the fact that was brought up. You knew whenever the bitter memories of their childhood were brought up, things sometimes didn’t end pretty. "You know, I didn’t stop believing in Santa Claus until I was in middle school. I always thought it was strange he only gave to certain people. That was, until a girl broke the news to me.” And just like that, you could see the smallest smiles they were trying their hardest not to break into as you heard Sam let out the faintest snort. “Oh, come on. I was a sheltered child. Obviously I don’t believe that the fat man is real and is brother is snatching people through their chimneys. We could be wrong, after all.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” Dean mumbled. You glanced up from the floor you were looking at, confusion washing over your expressions as you asked him what he was talking about. “I did a little digging myself—turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched.”


+ + +

It seemed both of the families spent the afternoon at a local tree farm, which didn’t seem all that exciting from what you saw on the website to look for direction. They claimed to be a family friendly place to find your perfect Christmas tree, but all you saw were college kids spending their break wearing itchy elf and reindeer costumes while some cheesy holiday music played over the speakers. You couldn’t help yourself but let a smile spread across your lips when you saw little children running around the place and mothers trying their hardest to keep up with winter jackets in their hands. You glanced up to see that all of you were heading into Santa’s village, but the way that Santa was painted above on the sign, he didn’t seem all too friendly looking.

“That does kind of lend credence to the theory, don’t it?” Dean asked, mentioning the last thing you all were discussing as you headed into the festive playground for children.

“Yeah, but Anti-Claus?” Sam asked, letting out a scoff. “Couldn’t be.”

“Hey, it’s a Christmas miracle.” Dean joked around with the idea. You let out a small laugh from the terrible humor and shook your head. “And speaking of, we should have this one this year.”

"Oh, that would be perfect!”

“No, thanks.”

You could feel your smile falter when Sam didn’t show the enthusiasm like you did for the suggestion. You didn’t know the last time either one of you celebrated a holiday. There was so many other important things that took a toll on your mind. But for the first time in years, you were feeling the holiday spirit coming back to you. All the decorations and happy families were itching you to at least try and make a pleasant day out of it. No worries, just some cheesy presents you’d been planning out for the past few weeks and a cute tree to decorate. You’d been meaning to bring up the topic, but it seemed that Dean beat you to it.

“No, we’ll create a tree, some take out,” Dean suggested. “Just like when we were little.”

"Dean, those weren’t exactly Hallmark memories for me.” Sam said.

“What are you talking about?” Dean asked, taken back from his brother’s sudden pessimistic attitude. “We had some great Christmases.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Whose childhood are you talking about?” You gave him a look as you stopped walking, urging him to participate. But it seemed to be going to a waste as Sam shook his head, still standing ground on what he wanted. “No, guys, just no.”

“Whatever you say, Grinch.” You heard Dean mumbled underneath his breath.

You lightly nudge Dean with your shoulder to leave the younger man alone, knowing that things weren’t always going to be pleasant for everyone around the holidays. The first one after your mother passed away was the most brutal. You were alone, trying to cope with everything that happened a few months afterward. A few of your friends had invited you over to their house so you weren’t by yourself during the holidays. But you refused. You thought that maybe the boys and John would stay for a few days to enjoy everything. Of course, there was a hunt that needed their attention and you were left alone. You were seventeen and stuck inside a home with a feast for a family.

After that, you got yourself involved with helping out with the homeless shelters and soup kitchens to pass the time. You might have been alone during the holidays, but it didn’t mean you were going to lock yourself away and act like the Scrooge. There were people out there without a roof over their head or presents to get. and little children without presents underneath the tree. It was the least you could do, and after that, you didn’t dread the holidays anymore because you were doing good. And it was better than sitting around and feeling sorry for yourself. Of course, this Christmas was different, and for once, you understood why Sam wanted to avoid the holidays. Because it was a gentle reminder that next year his brother wouldn’t be around to enjoy them.

“You’d think with the ten bucks it costs to get into this place Santa could scrounge up a little snow.” Dean’s voice broke you out of thought, making you turn your gaze away from something in the distance you were looking at. Sam blinked a few times and tore his gaze away from a cartoon reindeer that he was staring at and looked over at his brother, a confused expression was written across his face. Dean shook his head, not wanting to repeat himself. “What are we looking for, again?”

“Lore says that the Anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets.” Sam explained as he began walking again with you and his brother following down in sync.

“Great. So we’re looking for a pimp Santa.” Dean said. “Why the sweets?”

“Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?” You said, trying to explain the reasoning behind all of it. The tradition of Santa was always leaving out cookies and milk for him. But for his brother, he’d tempt little children to come to him before snatching them. It would work for those staying up past their bedtime. But you ended up letting out a grim chuckle form how terrifying it could be when you thought about it. “And it’s creepy.”

“How does this thing know who’s been naughty and who’s been nice?” Dean asked, bringing up a valid question that even you didn’t know the answer to just yet.

You and the brothers stopped walking for a moment when you caught sight of a Santa impersonator just across the way. He seemed sort of sketchy looking as a little boy was next in line. While it was all in harmless fun, you couldn’t help but feel sort of creeped out from the man as he let out a gruff laugh, which prompted the little boy’s mother to step in and pull her son away, letting the line move on. But your eyes trail over to someone else when you saw a girl come forward to you all, wearing an elf costume and a welcoming smile. She must have thought you were here to participate in all of the festive fun.

“Welcome to Santa’s court.” She greeted you all. “Can I escort your child to Santa?”

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head before was pointing a finger at his brother, thinking it would be funny to pull a small prank on the girl for his own amusement. He reached out a hand and placed it on Sam’s shoulder. “But, actually, my brother here–it’s been a lifelong dream of his.”

The poor girl’s face dropped in confusion, “Uh, sorry, no kids over…twelve.”

“No, he’s only kidding. We only came here to watch.” Sam tried to explain, but it only made the situation worse. She looked at the brothers with a disgusted face before she was backing away, suddenly trying her hardest to bolt out of here. You tried your hardest to contain a laugh as Sam was caught in the corner. “I—I didn’t mean that we came here to w—” But she was gone. He let out a frustrated sigh from the impression he left on the woman, turning his gaze to the culpert, his lips stretched into a frown. “Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that.”

Dean couldn’t help himself but let out an amused chuckle, brushing off his brother’s glare when something more important came up. He nodded his head for you and his brother to look forward, where the Santa impersonator was heading off. You looked once, but ended doing a double take when you saw the man limping like he was in pain. As he crossed your path, you couldn’t help yourself but sniff the air, your lungs filled with a peppermint aroma that had you glancing back over at the boys with disbelief. And here you thought this theory was a bogus one form the beginning.

“Are you seeing this?” Dean asked, showing the same amount of surprise as you.

“A lot of people walk with limps.” Sam suggested, trying not to jump to conclusions.

“Tell me you didn’t smell that.” You spoke up. “I swear, it was candy.”

“That was ripple.” Sam argued, you narrowed your eyes at him. “I think. It had to be.”

You peeked at your watch, knowing the plans you’d made for tonight would be coming up in a few short hours. But you knew there was more important things that needed to be taken care of before someone else could get hurt. There would be other days, you thought. “Maybe.” You said, shoving your hands inside your pockets as you glanced over at the shack your Santa impersonator traveled into. “But are we willing to take that chance?” Sam thought about it for a moment before he was nodding his head, knowing you were right about this one.

+ + +

You always hated stakeouts; they were boring and your ass always ended up falling asleep from sitting too long. You let out another yawn and tried your hardest to stretch out your muscles after sitting in the parking lot of where Santa had been calling home. You rubbed your eyes, trying your hardest to keep yourself awake and not lie down on this comfortable seat for fifteen minutes. “What time is it?” You asked again, letting out another yawn.

“Same as the last time you asked.” Sam mumbled. He reached over to grab the catine of coffee that each of you had been passing around for the past few hours to stay awake. All though it must be cold and stale now, it would still have a bit of kick in it after all the sugar you dumped in. He turned around in his seat and handed you the plastic bottle. “Here. Caffeinate.”

You happily grabbed the bottle and settled back down in your seat. As you took off the red top and turned it over so it was now a cup, you poured the substance out, but nothing came out. Your lips stretched into a frown and shoved the cap back on so no drops would stain the leather seats. “Wonderful.” You grumbled underneath your breath, tossing the catine to the other side of the car. “I knew I should’ve stayed home.”

A small moment of silence fell between the three of you as you settled back in your seat, trying your hardest to keep your eyelids from closing after you blinked. But it seemed your attention was drifting away from the trailer when Dean spoke up. “Hey, Sam.” The younger man glanced over at his brother, wondering what he wanted to talk about. “Why are you the boy that hates Christmas? I mean, I admit it—we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids.”

“Bumpy?” Sam repeated after his brother, he let out a scoff.

“That was then.” Dean said. “We’ll it right this year.”

“Look, Dean, if you want to have Christmas with Y/N, knock yourself out.” Sam muttered. His voice was low and quiet, tired from sitting here for hours and the topic that each of them kept arguing about. “Just count me out.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be great—me and Y/N making cranberry molds.” Dean mumbled, letting out a quiet chuckle from the thought. You rolled your eyes and tried your hardest to think of a witty comeback from his remark, but you were falling short from your exhaustion. You returned your attention back to the home when you caught sight of something strange. The man was peeking out of his window, inspecting the lot before tightly shutting his curtains. “What’s up with Saint Nicotine?”

Each of you waited a moment, wondering if there was something strange going on inside. You leaned forward, placing your hands on the front seats, waiting to see some kind of sign if there was something strange going on inside. But it wasn’t a shadow that gave it away. The distant sounds of a woman screaming was a clear sign trouble was to follow soon if neither one of you were fast enough to get in there before someone got hurt. You reached for the loaded gun that was sitting next to you as you slipped out of the car, following behind the brothers as all of you rushed up to the front door. Dean quietly walked up the small steps as he peeked through the window, wondering if he could see what was going on inside. But it was Sam’s quiet chuckle that caused your attention wandering over to him for a moment.

“What?” You asked him a hushed tone.

“Nothing.” He mumbled, you gave him a look, wanting for the man to continue with this thought. “It’s just that, uh, well, you know, Mr. Gung Ho Christmas might have to blow away Santa.”

You rolled your eyes from Sam’s sarcasm before you were nodding your head at Dean, deciding it was the best time to head in. He quietly twisted the doorknob before swinging it roughly open, barging in with you and Sam following in suit. “I’ll let you jingle my bells…” A female voice called out. You were expecting something gruesome, but not this. You stumbled upon the sight of St. Nick huffing away with his bong and enjoying what you were presuming was a cheesy opening to a holiday themed porno. The gun you were pointing at the man quickly dropped to your side, trying your hardest to keep it hidden when he jumped up from the couch.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He questioned you all, his words were slurred.

“Mistle my toe…Roast my chestnut…Egg my nog…”

You looked away from the TV screen after you realized he was staring at you, wanting an explanation. But you could see the bottle he was holding had be almost done. If you were lucky, he wouldn’t remember any of this. So, you did the only thing that came to mind—you started singing a Christmas song. You started off with the tune of “Silent Night” as you nodded your head for the brothers to jump in.

They were awkwardly standing there with their hands behind their backs, and they tried following with your plan, their singing coming off key. But the man seemed to have enjoyed it, laughing and joining in as he plopped down in his seat to continue on. You gave him a nervous smile, slowly shifting toward the front door as Sam took the lead. You and Dean followed behind until you were closing the door and running fast as you could, wanting to forget about how this night turned out.

+ + +

Mornings always came too soon, you thought bitterly to yourself. You cautiously opened the plastic lid of the paper cup that stored a steaming caffeine you needed after dealing with the awkward turn of events last night. After getting back to the motel, you managed to snag at least three hours of sleep before being rudely awaken from the sounds of your cell phone going off. Turns out the old friend you’d been speaking to for the past few days had landed in Michigan last night and she wanted to meet today since your plans backfired. You somehow bribed Dean into letting you borrow the Impala for an hour or so this morning to get this meeting done. Even though he was half asleep and cranky, the man would never say no to a fresh cup of coffee and something extra for tomorrow.

You walked forward to the jewelry store with almost nobody around except for a few morning people that were strolling around town, enjoying the mild weather. You peeked inside the window, wondering if she might have mentioned a different time, but you caught sight of someone waving a hand from the inside with a welcoming smile coming from her. You opened up the door and stepped inside the store, nothing that it was completely empty excepts for the two of you for right now. They would be opening in an hour or so, giving just a small window before the rush of last minute customers would come to pick up their gifts for spouses and employees, dreading everything about today.

“All of this trouble you’re putting me through and you don’t even have the decency to give me one.” Your friend said, prompting you to roll your eyes and pull out the white envelope that was stashed in your back pocket. You placed it on the clear glass counter and gave her a look, expecting another snarky remark, but instead, she leaned down and pulled out two small boxes that were nearly wrapped with a golden bow, tying all of the small details together. “Just liked you asked. I blew up the pictures, made sure the engravings and translations were correct. From how you sounded over the phone this morning you’d expected these boys were important enough for such an expensive gift.”

You took a sip of your drink, giving her a dirty glare from the comments, but you knew it was all in good sarcasm and fun. She was one of the few people you knew back when you first moved to your current home and had been around after your mother passed away. You’d called her on a whim a week ago when you began hatching ideas for a possible Christmas gift for the brothers, and while you didn’t think guns or a book of lore would be good enough to show them how much you cared. You wanted to get them something that didn’t reflect hunting, but something more personable that they would love. So, that’s when your friend came in; she always had an eye for jewelry, following in her father’s footsteps and took over one of the few businesses he’s grown through the country. It took a few calls before the both of you were here with the finished project right next to you.

“Damn right they are. And since you’ve done so much for me by flying out here on such short notice, I added a little extra.” You said, pushing the envelope closer to the woman. Her lips stretched out into a smile as she grabbed the money, happy for her holiday bonus. “Make sure to buy me something cute when you’re in Italy for the holiday.”

“Oh, I will.” She mumbled with happiness as she peeked inside the envelope to see a wad of cash. You shook your head and let out a small laugh, taking a sip of your drink again. But when she was done skimming through it, her face dropped as she looked up at you with a mixture of guilt. “Y/N, this is too much.”

You opened your mouth to make an excuse of why you added more, but you were cut off from the feeling of something buzzing against your thigh. It to took you a moment before you were reading a hand inside your pocket to pull out your phone, wondering who was calling. You saw Dean’s name flash across the screen for a moment before you excused yourself to take the call, knowing it was probably about you running behind schedule. But as the conversation draws on, you realize this is about something more serious along the lines of the case. Someone else had gone missing last night.

+ + +

You were back at the motel in under the fifteen minute mark, managing to hide the presents somewhere before you gave back the keys to Baby and got yourself ready for another. It didn’t take long to change into more professional clothing and head to the next victim’s house to discuss what happened. During the drive over, you did a quick research through the police report to see what you could learn about everything. It seemed that everything almost fit the last pattern from the last victim, but this time, there was a witness. The son claimed someone dressed in a red suit dragged his father out of their house through the chimney. His wife was sleeping at the time before she was knocked unconscious, probably giving the creature a better opportunity to snatch the husband without trouble. You and the brothers were greeted with the woman when she answered the door, and all though she was shaken up from the tragic turn of events, she lead you all through the house and into the living room to ask a few questions.

“So that’s how your son described the attack, ‘Santa took Daddy up the chimney’?” You asked the wife for clarification. She sniffled once or twice as she crossed her arms over her chest, but she nodded her head in agreement. “And where were you, Mrs. Caldwell?”

“I was asleep.” She explained what she could remember. You looked down to see her arms were tugging closer to her body as she continued on. The tears were coming back as she trailed off, looking at the ground for a moment. “And all of a sudden, I was being dragged out of my bed, screaming.”

Sam nodded his head, “Did you happen to see your attacker?”

“No.” She admitted in a quiet tone. “It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out.”

“I’m sorry. I know this is hard.” You said in a sympathetic tone. But as you turned your head just enough, something from the corner of your eye caught your attention. You looked over to see a wreath hanging above the fireplace, and while it seemed like anything out of the ordinary, you swore something about it was familiar, like you’ve seen it before. “Um, Mrs. Caldwell, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?” The woman stared at you for a moment from the sudden change of topic, her eyebrows furrowed together as her expression changed into anger. You gave her a bashful smile. “Just curious, you know.”

Mrs. Caldwell did tell you where she got it from, but it was right before she backed it up with a goodbye before kicking you three out of the house. You excused yourselves to the door, remembering the way as you began heading out first, wanting to be out of the woman’s death glares before she could really start saying what was coming across in her mind. Stepping out into the warm morning, the brothers followed behind, obviously not happy with how the conversation changed. But you really didn’t care, you might have found a connection of what was going on. There was something about those wreaths that was throwing you off, all though, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it just yet. With the help of Sam, you would figure this mystery out.

“Wreaths, huh?” Dean asked with curiosity. You turned your head to the side when he spoke up, wondering what he meant by that. He gave you an amused expression, acting like you were only there on casual business consisting of swapping decorating tips with a woman who just lost her husband days a day before one of the most joyous holidays of the year. “Sure you didn’t want to ask about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer.”

You scoffed at his accusation, “We’ve seen that wreath before, guys. At the Walshes yesterday.”

“I know.” Dean said, suddenly changing his tune. You let out a small laugh when he began acting like he knew that all along. You gave him a curious look as you reached out a hand to open the backseat door, waiting for his response. “I was just testing you.” You rolled your eyes and slipped into the back, knowing well enough he didn’t have a clue. But you were going to let it pass, knowing he was still pissed after you accidentally forgot his coffee this morning after coming back.

+ + +

Back at the motel, you changed into your street clothes once more before you and the brothers were off for a long afternoon of figuring out what you were hunting. Sam called Bobby for a second opinion about the theory, and the extra help of an experienced hunter like him never hurt for cases like this. You were sitting on the couch with Dean beside you, while he was skimming through a few books, you were on your laptop once more trying to find out whatever you could on the wreaths. There was a special plant you saw that looked familiar, you did a bit of digging before you found the name of the herb and there took you into deeper research, finding all sorts of information that seemed useful. But your eyes trailed away from the screen when you heard Sam wrapping up the conversation with Bobby before he was directing his attention to the both of you.

“Well, we’re not dealing with the Anti-Claus. He said that we’re morons for thinking it was.” Sam said, heading back over to his own laptop that was propped open. He took a seat down on the chair before swiping a finger over the mousepad, letting the screen come back to life. “But he did mention about you being right about the connection, Y/N. He thinks it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.”

“Wow! Amazing.” Dean said, pretending for a moment he knew what was going on before he asked. “What the hell is meadowsweet?”

“It’s pretty rare and it’s probably one of the most powerful plants in pagan lore.” You explained to him. Looking back at your laptop screen, you clicked around at a few websites to bring them up for a moment as you told him more about the plant. “See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifices. It was kind of like, how to put it nicely—chum for their Gods. They were drawn to it, and they’d stop by to snack on whatever was the nearest human.”

Dean pushed himself off the couch and headed for the counter, grabbing himself another cup of coffee. “Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?”

"It’s not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan.” Sam explained. His brother stopped a moment and brang up a popular belief of why everyone celebrated Christmas, Jesus’ birthday. But the younger man shook his head, giving you both another reason to why the holiday was around. “No, Jesus’ birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas. But the yule log, the tree, even Santa’s red suit—that’s all remnants of pagan worship.”

Your eyebrows furrowed from how much knowledge Sam could provide without even doing a bit of research ahead of time. “How do you even know that? Even I don’t know that much without doing some homework.” You said, giving him a playful smirk from what you were about to say next. “What are you gonna tell us next, Sammy? The Easter bunny’s jewish? But all jokes aside, do you think we’re dealing with a pagan God…Mr. Grinch?”

Sam tossed you an amused expression from the name you managed to squeeze in before he nodded his head. “Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice.” He said.

“And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths…”

You could feel the pressure of the couch dip down lower when it gained another body. You turned your head away from your laptop to see that Sam had crossed across the room to grab one of the books to quickly look something up. “It’s pretty much like putting a neon sign of your front door saying, ‘Come kill us.’” Sam said, you let out a small chuckle from the grim truth. He opened up the hardcover book and flipped through the faded pages before he found exactly what he was looking for just a moment later. “When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return.”

“Lap dances, hopefully.” Dean remarked.

“Mild weather.” Sam answered, you leaned out of your seat to look at the window.

“Kind of like no snow in December when we’re in the middle of Michigan.” You suspected, trailing your eyes back to Sam, he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. “Fantastic. Do you know how to kill it yet?”

“No, Bobby’s working on that right now.” Sam said. “But we got to figure out where they’re selling those wreaths.”

“Do you think they’re selling them on purpose?” You asked. “Feeling the victims to this thing?”

“Let’s find out.”

+ + +

You tracked down where the wreaths were being sold after you remembered the name Mrs. Caldwell said before she was throwing you out the door. It was a small little business that was nestled into town, and while it seemed like it was just another building, but it was quite different when you stepped inside. Your eyes trailed up when you heard the sound of bells jingling when the door opened, singling your arrival. A Christmas song echoed through the festive store, setting up perfectly with the amount of decorations of a color scheme with hues of red and green. You saw a few stuffed Santas sitting on shelves and a lit tree with a few tacky looking ornaments. But your attention went over to the older man running this place. “Can I help you kids?”

“Uh, I hope so. See, we were playing jenga with the Walshes the other night, and she hasn’t shut up since about this Christmas wreath.” Dean said, coming up with a story on the spot. But you could feel the attention being dragged over to you when Dean turned his head, giving you a smile as he continued speaking. “I don’t know. You tell him, sweetheart.”
Your lips stretched into a smile when you looked over at the shop owner, “It was yummy.”

But the man looked at you with almost a confused expression for a moment, not sure how to exactly respond from what’d you just said. “I sell a lot of wreaths, guys.”

“Right, right. But you see,” You said, giving the man a more specific description of what you were looking for. “This one would have been really special. It had green leaves and white buds on it. It might have been made of, uh, what was it she said, meadowsweet?”

“Well, aren’t you a fussy one?” The man asked, prompting Dean to join in with a chuckle. You looked over at the man that was standing beside you, giving him a quick glare before the owner answered your question. "Anyway, I know the one you’re talking about. I’m all out.”

"Seems like this meadowsweet stuff’s rare and expensive.” Dean said, prompting to try and get more information out of the man casually. “Why make wreaths out of it?”

“Beats me.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “I didn’t make them.”

You raised your eyebrows in curiosity, “Who did?”

“Madge Carrigan—a local lady.” He explained to the both of you. “Said the wreaths were so special, she gave them to me for free.”

“She didn’t charge you?” You asked with a bit of surprise. He shook his head, you narrowed your eyes slightly at him from what you were about to ask next. “Did you sell them for free?”

“Hell, no. It’s Christmas.” The man said. “People pay a buttload for this crap.”

You cracked the smallest smile at the man from his greedy attitude, “That’s the spirit.”

+ + +

It was beginning to grow dark when you and Dean came back from the Christmas shop. You headed inside to the motel room to tell Sam what you’d learned, Dean would be following behind shortly afterwards, after he found a parking spot in the crowded area. You opened up the motel door and let out a sigh, greeting your presence to see Sam was sitting right where you left him with a book in his hand. You gave him a small smile, closing the door behind you. “Hey, Sammy, how much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it across one of the chairs. He shrugged his shoulders, prompting you to explain that a generous lady was giving them away for free and how the shop owner was selling them to make a profit. “What do you think about that? Sounds pretty freaking suspicious.”

Sam nodded his head in agreement, prompting the smallest amount of silence to fall between the both of you. You waited a moment before you got the courage to bring up a subject that was like walking on eggshells with this man. “But I found some pretty cute decorations over there.” You said slowly, and almost cautiously. “Maybe we would get some after this is over.”

You could Sam let out the faintest sigh when you brought up the subject. He softly closed the book he was reading as he looked up to you. “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” He asked, prompting you to give him a confused look. “I mean, when are you suddenly into the holiday spirit? Why do you want to do Christmas so bad?”

You opened your mouth to try and make an excuse, but nothing good enough seemed to be coming out. “Why are you so against it?” You questioned him back, suddenly wanting a real answer from the man. “Were your childhood memories that traumatic?”

“No, that has nothing to do with it.” Sam said, jumping to the defense. You tilted your head to the side and gave him a look, knowing there was more to this story he wasn’t telling you. All though you weren’t there for most of his childhood growing up, he shared almost everything with you. But for some reason, there was something he wasn’t admitting. “I mean, I just don’t get it. You or Dean haven’t talked about Christmas in years.”

“Well, yeah.” You said, your voice dropping to a whisper. “This is his last year.”

Sam was quiet for the longest time from what you’d said, knowing it had been on everyone’s mind. It was the reason why you wanted to make everything special, you wanted to give at least one happy memory before reality had to set back in. But there was another reason for the youngest Winchester. “I know. That’s why I can’t.” He admitted. “I can’t just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending that everything’s okay when I know next Christmas he’ll be dead. I just can’t.”

You had to admit, that idea crossed your mind a few times when you were planning out this entire project. Part of you was hopeful that maybe he would agree. You wanted to give the boys at least one happy holiday that wasn’t about hunting or dwelling on what’s to come. As you thought about it for a moment or so, you found yourself staring back at him, prompting an old melody to pop inside your head. You began humming the tune of the famous song, “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” It took Sam a moment to realize what you were doing before his lips stretched into the slightest frown. But there was just a second before the both of you were breaking out into a small fits of chuckles, cutting a bit of tension that’d been growing between the both of you from the start of this conversation.

+ + +

The next morning, you and the brothers found where the famous wreath maker Madge Carrigan, and if her generosity for the season of holidays wasn’t strong enough—her front yard did. You stepped out of the car with a growing smile spreading across your lips, easily becoming amused from the decorations the woman set up for display. It was rather innocent and something you would find straight out of a Christmas magazine. From the snowman and decorated sleigh, she wasn’t exactly a candidate for someone who spent her free time sacrificing people to pagan Gods.

“Can’t you just feel the evil pagan vibe?” Dean asked, sarcasm lined in his voice.

You rolled your eyes and followed after the boys when they headed up to the front door. All of you walked up to the porch step as Dean reached out a hand to hit the door knocker, which had a string of jingle bells to add for the holiday effect. You were about to comment on the overkill, but you swallowed when the front door swung open. The woman who answered the door was someone who just stepped out of an old fifties sitcom; she had her hair perfectly curled and pulled back, along with a crisp white cardigan that covered her modest dress. She answered the door in a cheery voice, giving you all a friendly smile for an added effect.

“Please tell me you’re the Madge Carrigan who makes the meadowsweet wreaths.” You said with your voice was sickly sweet as you almost pleaded with her. "I’m just in love with them!”

“Why, yes, I am.” She admitted, her lips stretching into a grin from your enthusiasm.

You turned your head to look at the brothers, you gave them a smile, having a feeling there was something going on here. Either the woman was clueless about what she put in her decorations, or she was hiding something from all of you. “Well, we were just admiring your wreaths in Mr. Sylar’s place the other day.” Sam said, keeping the conversation going. Out of curiosity, you peeked over the side to look into the woman’s house. You saw that most of the interior was Christmas decorations with a perfect looking gingerbread house sitting on the dining room table. But your eyes trailed over to Madge when she began speaking again.

“You were? Well, isn’t that meadowsweet just the finest-smelling thing you ever smelled?” She asked, taking in a deep breath as she closed her eyes to recollect the memory.

“It sure is.” You said, agreeing with her as you nodded your head. “But the problem is, all your wreaths had sold out before we got the chance to buy one.”

“Oh, fudge!” She shouted at the news.

You gave her a shy smile, “You wouldn’t have another one that we could buy from you?”

“No,” She admitted, shaking her head with honest disappointment coming from her tone. “I’m afraid those were the only ones I had for the season.”

“Darn.” Dean mumbled, snapping his fingers as he pretended to be disappointed from the news, too. “But tell me something—why did you decide to make them out of meadowsweet?”

“Why, the smell, of course!” Madge said. “I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything finer.”

“Yeah, um, you mentioned that.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath, luckily not loud enough for the woman to hear. You quickly elbowed him in the side, tossing him a glare, obviously not the time to get on the bad side of this woman. But it seemed her attention was drawn to her husband after he came from the upstairs to see what who was at the door. You furrowed your eyebrows when you saw the man had raided Mr. Roger’s closet from his buttoned up cardigan and tie. The only difference between the men was that Mr. Carrigan was smoking a pipe. Yet he didn’t smell like tobacco smoke when you sniffed the air, suddenly curious to know if it were all for show.

“What’s going on, honey?” He asked in the same familiar cheery tone of his wife.

“Well, just some nice kids asking about my wreaths, dear.” She said, looking over at the man with another growing smile spreading across her lips.

“The wreaths are fine. Fine wreaths.” He commented, lifted up his hand with the pipe before reaching out the other. You glanced down to see it was a red metal tin full of freshly baked goods being waved around. “Oh, care for some peanut brittle?”

Dean, being the one easily tempted for a sweet snack, reached out a hand, but you quickly slapped it away out of caution. “No!” You warned him, making the man quickly retract his arm away from the back of his hand started to sting. You swallowed when you saw them taken back from your sudden outburst, and thinking quick on your feet, you gave them a bashful smile. “Sorry. It’s almost dinner. We wouldn’t want to spoil our appetite, right?”

+ + +

“You’re making a mess, Dean.” You grumbled at him, peeking over the bed you were sitting on, glancing down to see the floors were covered in wood shavings. He was sitting at the edge of his own motel bed, carving away at a stake of wood with a hunting knife, making sure the tips were sharp enough like the edge of a blade. Bobby had called a few hours ago to explain what he found on how to kill these Gods. You were lounging around during the time afterward, keeping yourself busy by reading more what you could find in the book of lore that Sam had been looking at earlier today. The both of you were about to get into a petty argument, but it ended quickly as it started when Sam suddenly bursted out something from his research, slapping his hands together from his accomplishment. You looked over to see that Sam was sitting at the edge of the couch, his focus was on his laptop as he read more of whatever it was.

“I knew it! Something was way off with those two.” Sam said, prompting you to ask him what’d he found on the couple. “The Carrigans lived in Seattle last year, where two abductions took place right around Christmas. They moved here in January. All that Christmas crap in their house wasn’t boughs of holly. It was vervain and mint. Serious pagan stuff.”

“So, what,” Dean asked, “Ozzie and Harriet are keeping a pagan God hidden underneath their plastic-covered couch?”

“I don’t know. But Sam’s right. Something just creeps me out about them. We’ve got to check them out, at least.” You said, shutting the book you’d been reading and setting it down next to you on the mattress. But your gaze lingered to the stakes Dean had been carving out. “So, was Bobby sure evergreen stakes will kill these things, right?”

Dean lifted up the stake he’d been carving out, taking a close inspection. "Yeah, he’s sure.”

+ + +

When the dead of night arrived, you and the brothers made your move. It’d been a few hours of lingering around the Carrigans household to see if they were around. But you saw them leave just a half an hour ago, giving you all a small window to take a peek around the house, wondering what they were hiding. You walked to the front door again with the brothers taking lead, as you cautiously looked around to see if anyone was around, Dean kept himself busy by picking the lock to grant all of you access. It was a moment before you were being handed a wooden stake and being waved on inside first. You wandered around the room, switching the stake to your dominant hand, knowing there could be something lurking around here. But Dean was too tempted to walk over to the couch, his fingers running over the unusual cover for furniture. You furrowed your brows when you heard the familiar sounds of something squeaking.

“See? Plastic.” Dean whispered, you rolled your eyes.

You trailed off from the boys, going your own path through the home to see what other kind of things they had hidden away. You were seeing nothing short of gaudy decorations that would make anyone cringe. But when you came across the kitchen, you saw a buffet of food around the counter that ranged in all sorts of fattening desserts that looked too good to eat. Either they had one sweet tooth, or perhaps they were trying to put some extra pounds on a few guests before they became a meal for someone more powerful. As you glanced away for a moment, a doorway with a lock caught your attention. You tucked a hand inside your pocket to pull out your flashlight and clicked it on, wondering what you saw shining slightly in the small amount of light. When you stepped closer, you caught sight of a golden lock on the door leading somewhere.

“Hey, guys.” You called out, getting the brothers attention. You heard the sound of shuffling footsteps before they popped out from the corner, wondering what you’d found. You nodded your head to the door, pointing out the lock. “What do you think the Cleavers are hiding?”

You reached out a free hand to unlock the door, when you heard the deadbolt click back, you waited a moment before swinging open the door. There was nothing below but darkness and a staircase that lead downward to the basement. Dean took the lead first as Sam and you followed behind. While mostly everything upstairs seemed cute and cozy, what you stumbled upon almost seemed straight out a horror movie. This wasn’t what you were expecting to find. You walked through the basement to see that the banister was covered in blood, along with most of the floor. You tried your hardest to avoid the substance as you continued walking through the place. If the blood wasn’t enough sign that these people were twisted, the amount of tools and weapons covering the place was good enough for you.

Everything, and you mean everything, was covered in either blood or left over human remains. You’d seen a lot of nasty things during your time on the road, but this was slowly leading up there as a memory you might not be able to shake off. As you walked further, you looked down to see there was at least a few large knapsacks just lying around. And it didn’t take an idiot to realize there wasn’t something normal in there. You pressed the back of your hand against your mouth, trying your hardest to keep whatever food you’d managed to eat during the day keep from coming back.

As you turned around on your heels, something caught your attention. You placed your flashlight over at the wall that you were standing right across from to see a large bag was hanging off a metal hook. Your eyebrows furrowed to see the fabric was soaked with blood, and out of curiosity, you began walking forward to it until you were standing just a foot away. It took you a moment of inspecting it some more, just seeing that it was standing still, you thought no harm would come if you just touched it to see what was inside. But that was a big mistake.

You lightly tapped the side, expecting to have it swing around, but when you felt it jump around, you let out a surprised gasp as you jumped back slightly. But when you felt your body roughly back up against someone else’s, you silently hoped it was just one of the brothers, but dread filled your emotions when you saw it was Madge. You tried your hardest to reach up a hand to attack her, but it seemed the woman was faster than you, reaching out a hand to wrap around your neck and roughly throwing you against the wall, pinning you into place. All though the boys had seen that you were in trouble, it still didn’t mean they were gonna be able to help save the day. Without even breaking a sweat, you watched as Mr. Carrigan somehow took down the boys, tossing them around until each of them were knocked unconscious, rendering you useless for whatever was about to come.

“Gosh, I wish you kids hadn’t come down here.” Madge said in the most calmest tone. She tightened her grip around your throat, but you fought to get yourself out, making your flashlight wave around in the air. But as you caught sight of something distorting in their facial features, you could feel yourself slowly being lifted off the wall before she was shoving you backwards, knocking your head into the hard concrete wall.

+ + +

“Y/N, you okay?”

You were drawn out from the darkness when you heard someone calling out your name in a sort of whispered tone, like they didn’t want to be caught. A pounding sensation became to creep into the back of your head when you slowly opened your eyes, wondering where you were. You tried opening your mouth to respond from the question, knowing well enough that at least the boys were around. But the only thing that escaped was a groan from the pain, and the fact that your wrists were tied down to a dining room chair wasn’t helpful. You looked around to see that you were in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at the tacky furniture someone thought looked decent enough to keep around. But you cranked your neck over your shoulder to notice that Sam was behind to your right, and Dean was on your left. You tried testing the restraints, but knowing your strength, you didn’t get much friction from how tight they did the knots. It seemed they didn’t want anyone leaving before the real fun was about to begin at any given moment.

“Just peachy.” You answered, leaning back in your seat with a sigh of annoyance from the terrible turn of events nobody could have seen coming. Turns out the Carrigan couple weren’t hiding away anything, they were the monsters you were hunting all along. And you were about to become tonight’s Christmas dinner. “So, I guess we’re dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God.”

Speaking of the party throwers, you turned your head to the side when you saw the two of them coming out from the hall just to your left. They had gotten out of their previous clothing and into a pair of Christmas sweaters that were hideous. It was something you might find buried in the clearance bin after the holidays or an outfit a grandmother would wear for family dinners. On most occasions it would have made the faintest smile spread across your lips from amusement if you saw them when you were walking down the street. But here you were, tied down like like stuffed turkey, waiting for them to pluck you of your feathers and slit your throat before getting started on the feast. You stared ahead and nervously swallowed from the thought as you remembered the bloody sight downstairs. If you all weren’t smart enough to get out of here, that would be your fait.

Madge walked into the room with a red Christmas sweater, clean and pressed down from the morning load she completed before the change of events. Her lips were stretched into a grin as she saw the sight of you all, waiting ever so patiently for what was ahead. “Ooh, and here we thought you three lazy bones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff.” Madge said, walking across the room as she inspected each and every one of you. When you caught sight of her grin, your fingers curled into a tight fist, trying your hardest to not push their buttons yet.

“Miss all of this?“ Dean, always the brave one during these kind of situations, couldn’t help himself but lash out with a tone full of sarcasm as a defiant smirk began growing across his lips. "Nah, we’re partiers.”

“Isn’t he a kick in the pants, honey?” Edward asked with a light hearted grin. You finally learned his name after struggling to get yourself up back in the basement before his wife bashed your head in one more time after he caught you crawling to the stake. He wandered over to you and Sam as he reached up to take the pipe out of his mouth. He stopped walking around for a moment as he stopped near you. “You’re hunters is what you are.”

“And you’re pagan Gods.” Dean pointed out. Edward’s lips curled into a smirk from the title. He reached up a hand to put the pipe back into his mouth as the other grabbed the apron from his wife, making sure to keep their clothes tightly from any blood that might spill. “So, why don’t we just call it even and go our separate ways?”

"So you can bring more hunters and kill us?” Edward asked. He let out a chuckle from Dean’s proposition. “I don’t think so!”

You rolled your eyes as you could feel your mind beginning to fill with dread from the man’s answer. Of course you knew they weren’t going to let you all just go waltzing out the door. But everyone had the same idea in mind—to have a good holiday. You wanted to spend the night with the brothers exchanging gifts, they wanted to have a Christmas feast. And it seemed you lost this game, knowing well enough you were added to tonight’s menu. “You should have thought about that before snacking on humans.” Sam said, his tone snarky and full of venom.

“Oh, now, don’t get all wet.” Edward said, brushing off his eating habits like it was nothing.

“Why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year. And that’s a fact.” Madge said, walking over to a wire shelf, grabbing a few cloth napkins before heading over to Dean. You didn’t know what she was doing before you were flinching from her touch, wondering if she was going to try and hurt you. But all she did was lay out the napkin, tucking it gently into your sides before moving on to Sam. “Now what do we take? What, two? Three?”

“Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys here make six.” Edward calculated. You couldn’t see him, but his wife’s lips curled into a smile as she looked over at you. Obviously all of the previous victims were male. And you were guessing if they were eating for size, you couldn’t blame them. Most of them were taller and had more meat on their bones. But how she was beginning to look at you wasn’t making a good feeling sit in your stomach. You averted your gaze away as you slightly squirmed in your seat. This wasn’t exactly how you pictured your holidays going.

“Now, that’s not so bad, is it?” Madge asked, her tone was so light and sweet.

“Well, when you say it like that,” Dean spoke up for all of you, and yet again, wasn’t shy on being sarcastic when he was staring another strange way to die right in the face. While it might have been cute any other time, you weren’t exactly in the mood. He always chose it when none of you were armed to protect yourselves. “I guess you guys are the Cunninghams.”

"You, mister, better show us a little respect.” Edward scolded the man, as if he was going to listen.

But you could feel your eyes rolling back in annoyance when Sam turned his head to look at Edward. And just like his brother, you knew it was a matter of time before he joined in on the taunting. “Or what? You’ll eat us?” Sam asked.

“Not so fast. There’s rituals to be followed.” Edward said, pointing out the obvious plans that were to be followed. Madge’s lips grew into another grin, mumbling something about her husband being meticulous about their habits before they could enjoy their nice feast. “That’s right, honey. And you know what kicks off this whole shebang?”

“Let me guess—meadowsweet.” You said, knowing what was to come next. But you turned your head to look at Madge, a disappointed look stretched across your face. “Oh, shucks—but you’re all about of wreaths. I guess we’ll just have to cancel the sacrifice, huh?”

Madge let out a giggle from your comment as she nearly danced around the kitchen looking for her backup supply. You turned your head to the left when she walked over. She bent down to grab something on the lower shelf of the island. “Oh, don’t be such a gloomy gus.” She said with such a cheerful tone. When you looked down, your face dropped, knowing very well she was holding exactly what she needed to continue on. She walked over to Dean first, forcing the wreath around his neck as he struggled a bit before being forced to keep the thing around his neck. You were next as she placed the itchy wreath around you, making the vines and leaves scratch at your skin. She walked over to Sam, draping the last one over his neck before she intertwined her fingers together, enjoying the sight of you all. “Aww. Don’t they just look darling?”

“Good enough to eat.” Edward commented, thinking he was funny from his tasteless joke. “All righty-roo. Step number two.” You turned your head to the left for a moment when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. wondering what was going on, but when you looked back over, you jump slightly in fear when you saw something shiny catch your attention. He was standing over you with what appeared to be a knife and a bowl. As you began wondering what was going on, you looked over to your right to see someone was lingering over you. But you couldn’t help yourself but jump slightly in fear when you saw something shiny catch your attention. Edward was standing over you what appeared to be a knife and a bowl. You swallowed as your eyes lingered back up to the man, wondering what he was about to do next. “This might sting a bit, dear.”

You opened your mouth to make a sarcastic remark from the warning, but what ended coming out was a painful yelp as he placed the knife against your forearm, slowly slicing open the skin until a fresh wound opened up, getting what he wanted. As your fingers wove themselves tightly into fists from the pain, you watched as the blood from the cut began to ooze out and straight into the bowl. As if you haven’t lost enough from the last hunt. “Leave her alone you son of a bitch!” You could hear Dean growl out from anger. Luckily that brought Edward’s hand to become drawn upwards from the backlash coming from the younger man. You let out a sigh of relief as you managed to settle yourself back down in your seat. But as your eyes drew themselves up, you could see the shocked expression coming across the man’s face.

“Hear how they talk to us? To God's?” Edward asked, he let out a grim chuckle. He passed over the knife to his wife along with the bowl so she could do something else with it. “Listen pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions.”

“Times have changed!” Dean hissed at him, trying to take the man down a peg.

“Tell me about it.” Edward said, rolling his eyes from the obvious fact. His wife walked forward back to him as he continued speaking. “All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our altars are being burned down, and we’re being hunted down like common monsters.”

“But did we say a peep? Oh, no, no, no, we did not.” She said, shaking her head. Putting the bowl back down on the table, she watched as her husband grabbed a few pinches of spices and put them inside the bowl before she began mixing around the ingredients together. “Two millennium. We kept a low profile. We got jobs, a mortgage. We—What was that word, dear?”

“We assimilated.” He answered, popping a piece of food into his mouth.

“Yeah, we assimilated.” She repeated after her husband, nodding her head in agreement. “Why, we play Bridge on Tuesdays and Fridays. We’re just like everybody else.”

You let out a scoff underneath your breath, using the advantage of being faced with the wall as you made a comment. “You’re not blending in as smooth as you think, lady.” But as you looked away from the wall, you rolled your eyes when she was back again, holding a clean bowl and the knife. And this is what you get for trying to be sarcastic. Your wrapped your fingers around the wooden armrest of the bracing for another scar to add to the collection of many others.

“This might pinch a bit more, dear.” Madge warned you. “Eddie sometimes doesn’t get enough.”

But even with you mentally bracing for the impact of pain, you couldn’t help yourself but let out a cry of pain when she unexpectedly pushed the blade against your skin, cutting deeper than her husband. You could feel your eyes wandering down to the porcelain bowl, that was one perfectly clean, slowly start to become painted a crimson red from the blood staining the ceramic. “You bitch!” You screamed at her, not bothering to hold back your aggression anymore.

“Oh, my goodness me! That is not how a young lady should be speaking!” Madge said, looking at you with surprise from your vulgar language. You glared at her, knowing there were much worse words that you could have used before. “Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar. Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? Fudge! ”

You let out a bitter laugh, rolling your eyes from the unwanted advice. “I’ll try and remember that!”

“You kids have no idea how lucky you are.” Edward said. As he gazed upon the few tools he had around, one in particular caught his eye, and he grabbed for it before walking over to Sam for what he was about to do next. “There was a time when kids came from miles around just to be sitting where you are.”

When you heard the sound of Sam’s panicked voice ringing inside your ears, you quickly looked over your shoulder, trying your hardest to figure out what was going on. But as you glanced back over to see where Madge had ended up, you decided to put the woman’s advice to good use. “If you fudging touch me or them again, I’ll fudging kill you!” You threatened to them, your voice was rising as you could feel the anger beginning to bowl inside your chest. As you tried your hardest to struggle out the restraints, you looked over your shoulder just in time to see what Sam had been screaming about. Your face dropped into disgust as Edward held it high with a proud grin stretching across his lips. “You’re a sick son of a bitch! That’s what you are!”

Edward let out a chuckle, brushing off your remarks as he examined the bloody fingernail that was being held together in between the pliers. “Oh, we’ve got a winner!” He called out with the most joyous tone ever, like he’d just won a special prize. You let out a breath you’d been holding and leaned back in your seat, trying your hardest to keep yourself from the throbbing pain coming from your forearms. It felt like someone was sticking needles into your wounds over and over again.

The couple walked back over to the island with their ingredients in hand. Madge poured in the blood as Edward dropped the fingernail in before mixing it all together with a wooden spoon, making sure everything was perfect. “What else, dear? Madge asked, a nagging feeling like she was forgetting something began to cross her mind. She looked to her husband for the answer.

"Well, let’s see. Uh, fingernail, blood…” Edward began listing off the things they’d already gotten, but when he remembered the last one, he snapped his fingers and let out a chuckle. “Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick. I forgot the tooth!”

You let out a pitiful laugh, that almost sounded like a whimper from what torture could have been inflicted on either one of you. “Merry Christmas, boys.” You mumbled, hoping to say one last sweet thing before one of you had your tooth ripped straight out of your mouth. You looked around, waiting for the victim to be you, but of course, it turned out that it was Dean’s turn to be brought into the fun. Turns out having a big mouth had gotten him in trouble, after all.

“Open wide, and say, ‘Ahh.’” Edward instructed to the younger man.

He reached out with his free hand to roughly grab Dean by the chin, forcing him to at least pry open his jaw just enough to slip the rusty pliers into his mouth. As Edward gripped the tooth on a molar, like a blessing in disguise, the doorbell rang. “Somebody gonna get that?” Dean asked, even with a mouth full of metal, you could understand him. The doorbell rang again just a few seconds later, demanding their attention. “You should get that.”

Edward glared down at Dean, obviously not happy from the suggestion that was given, but as Madge tugged at her husband’s arm, he finally complied. You could hear the sound of footsteps growing quieter, that was, until you were left with nothing but silence. The faintest noise that sounded like a sigh of relief escaped as you leaned backwards in your chair. All though there was a moment of peace, you still needed to figure out how the hell to get out of here. You closed your eyes for a moment as the thought of actually ending up losing this battle crossed your mind. And you’d spent God knows how much money on those presents for the night to turn out like this. With your thoughts, you’d been so caught up on focusing of the impending doom, you didn’t realize someone was hovering over you before your eyes jumped wide open when someone touched your wrist. Expecting to see Madge or Edward getting ready to haul you off to your death, you were pleasantly surprised to see that Sam somehow sneaked his way out.

Sam managed to get your wrist free from the rope, letting it drop down to the ground before you were ushering him to help his brother. You quickly worked through the pain by undoing the other bound around your wrist in record time, all before you were being yanked out of the chair when you heard two pairs of footsteps coming forward to the kitchen. You and Dean barely made it out of the room before the couple arrived back. You quickly reached out a hand when he was out of the way and quickly slammed the door shut, Sam following behind in your actions. As you pressed your back against the door, it didn’t take long before you were digging your heels into the wooden floor, the both of you trying your hardest to keep someone was getting in.

But as Madge continued on pounding, the thought of the woman being stronger than either one of you crossed your mind. That was, until Dean stepped forward, leaving you alone to try and keep out the woman. Your face scrunched up with anger as you opened your mouth to protest, but the words died at the tip of your tongue from the ingenious idea Dean hatched out in a moment’s notice. He pulled out the drawer to the lien cabinet that was beside him, the knob was large enough to block the door was opening any wider. You shrugged your shoulders of the random streak of luck as you followed behind Dean, racing around the house until you caught up with Sam, who was struggling to keep himself from letting the couple out. Dean pressed his palm against the door as he shifted his weight forward, you learned your shoulder against the side, hoping with the weight of the three of you would be enough. But with how they were pounding from the other side, you could hear the hinges squeaking, threatening to burst free.

“What do we do now?!” You asked, your voice beginning to rise from the panic that was settling back in. “The evergreen stake’s in the basement!”

“Well, we need more evergreen, Y/N!” Sam said, his tone was full of stress, obviously knowing well enough each of you were in a bind. You rolled your eyes from his obvious fact, but as you thought of a comeback, he found a backup plan. “I think I just found us some more. Dean, help me with this cabinet.”

You stepped out of the way, giving the brothers an opportunity to move the china cabinet, which was large enough block out the couple as all of you devised another plan of action. It wasn’t long before you could hear the sounds of glass shattering and breaking when Sam and Dean went over to the tree, knocking it over so they could snatch off a few branches to make stakes. You grabbed a branch with a sharp edge, the pine needles tickled your skin as you waited for something to happen, like the china closet come crashing to the ground. But the room went silent.

Your grip around the wooden branch tightened as you looked over your shoulder for a moment, expecting to be greeted by nothing. Yet when you saw Edward charging forward, full speed. You were caught off guard, barely having a chance to defend yourself before you were being tackled to the ground, his dead weight pinning you to the ground. The stake was tossed out of your grip for a moment, but as the both of you tried recovering from the tumble, you saw the branch just lying ahead. You tried your hardest to reach for it as you stretched out your arm, ignoring the aching that began to grow again from your cuts that were slowly being stretched open from the awkward position.

The wood was barely a few inches from your grip, Edward realized what you were doing as he quickly pinned down your wrist as his free hand reached up into the air. You could see from the corner of your eye that he was about to throw a punch, but it seemed that backup came through. Dean roughly yanked the man off you, tapping himself into a fight as your attention lingered over to Sam, knowing well enough he had someone itching to go a few rounds with. All through your stake was gone, your attention lingered over to a porcelain Santa just sitting across the room. Without another thought, you quickly pushed yourself up to your feet and snatched it.

“You little thing,” Madge said, her tone lowering as she took a step forward near Sam. “I loved that tree.”

“Yeah, I loved this shirt. But things happen, bitch.” You watched as she turned around not seeming to notice that you were behind her before it was too late. Your lips stretched into a smirk as her face dropped into frustration from what you were holding. As she tried to make her move, you were faster than her, easily throwing your hands up in the air with the figurine in your grip, roughly smashing it against her head, making the woman tumble to her knees from the blow. You let out a breath from the force that you put into it, but you knew it was a matter of time before she was back up again. But before she could make her attack, someone else made the first move.

Sam lunged forward when he saw Madge trying her hardest to win this fight, but with the wooden branch lodged into her stomach, you knew this fight was over. “Madge!” Edward screamed on the top of his lungs, his eyes widening in despair when he saw what’d happen. His was was hunched over, slowly beginning to gag on the blood that began to fill her lungs. He seemed to have been so distracted from seeing his wife take her final breaths of life, he didn’t seem to notice what Dean was up to. Dean quickly grabbed the stake and stabbed it into the man’s chest, throwing Edward to the ground as he got himself up to his knees, taking another stab that was deep enough to render the man motionless. Dean let out a breath, throwing the branch toward the side of the room when he noticed the couple were no longer moving.
You looked down at the accomplished sight below; you stood with your hands on your hips, the couple that onced had been moving around the country, snacking on humans, were no longer allowed to cause much more harm. All though it was a pain the ass, you could feel the faintest smile spread across your lips from the accomplished work. But as you moved your arm down, you let out a hiss from the stinging pain. Sam let out the faintest chuckle, you looked up at him with an annoyed expression as his lips slowly stretched into an amused smile. But you had to be honest, it was refreshing to see the relief coming across in his face.

“Merry Christmas, guys.”

+ + +

You walked out of the motel room with a thick sweater wrapped tightly around your body, suddenly noticing the shift in temperature after getting back safely. It was beginning to feel like winter when you looked around the parking lot to see the colored lights hanging above from windows and decorated inside the rooms you could peek into. All though you and the brothers decided to just have a quiet night in to celebrate, you couldn’t help but bring a few gifts you bought them the other day to make the night feel like a holiday. You saw the Impala parked just across the way when you found the brothers’ motel room again, Dean was back from gas station, hopefully with food and booze. As you opened up the motel door after knocking quickly, you greeted the boys with a warm smile, but you could feel your face dropping with surprise at the sight just across the room.

This wasn’t something you were expecting to see; there was a tiny tree sitting on the coffee table decorated with lights and the most random ornaments Sam must have found around. A cheesy looking banner hung from the dresser as you picked up on the classic Christmas songs that were playing softly in the background. You looked over at the younger man with curiosity as you closed the door behind you. “What’s this?” You asked him, walking until you were standing next to Dean.

“What do you think it is?” Sam asked with a growing smile. “It’s Christmas.”

You were pleasantly surprised with the answer as you looked over at Dean, wondering what his reaction would be on the sudden turn of events.Out of anyone wanting to celebrate this holiday, Dean was one the one who brought it up. You thought he would have been the one to at least make the effort to put a little party together, but here Sam was, doing the unthinkable.

“What made you change your mind?” Dean curiously asked his little brother.

Sam let out a quiet sigh, he tried thinking of an answer that would explain his sudden change of heart. But when nothing seemed to be good enough of an excuse, he reached down to grab two cups and handed them over to you and his brother. “Here, try the eggnog. Let me know if it needs some more kick.” He said. You took the plastic cup to your lips and took a sip. While you were content with the beverage, you let out a cough from the sudden rush of bourbon that snuck up on you. You looked up at Sam with a smile as you shook your head, knowing he’d went overboard.

“No,” Dean admitted, swallowing the drink with a small hiss from the burn. “We’re good.”

“Good.” Sam said. “Well, uh, have a seat. Let’s do Christmas stuff or whatever.”

You headed over to the couch, squeezing yourself between the brothers as you took the middle. Leaning over, you placed the cup on the couch before taking a seat. You could feel the outline of the gifts inside your side, but before you could suggest opening your presents, Dean was jumping in with another surprise. “Alright, first thing’s first.” He said, pulling out a chair from the table before taking a seat right across from. He grabbed two paper bags from the bag, all though they were small, you knew it was his way of exchanging gifts. He handed you the smaller one as his brother got the bigger, but more slender one. Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt around the bag, wondering what he’d gotten you. “Merry Christmas, guys.”

“Where’d you get these?” You asked.

“Someplace special.” He said, shrugging off his jacket. You raised your eyebrows, wanting the real answer. “The Gas Mart. Down the street. Open them up.”

“Well, great minds think alike, Dean.” Sam said, reaching down to grab something from the floor.

Your lips were stretching into a grin when you saw Sam had handed over a few amount of gifts that were wrapped in newspaper he must have found around the motel. All though when they took out their suprise, you put the gifts onto the table and decided to pull out your own. “Well, this is really strange because,” You said, opening up your sweater to take out the once neatly wrapped gifts. But since you had to sneak them inside, the bow had been flattened and part of the wrapping paper was torn slightly. “I thought it was only fair. But open up each other’s gifts first. I wanna know what you got.”

Sam was the first one to open his gift, ripping the slender package open as the paper bag fell to the floor. You could see his lips stretching into a grin when he saw that his brother had gotten him, and knowing Dean, you wouldn’t have thought of something more him. "Skin mags!” He chuckled out, the tiniest hint of a rosy color began to spread across his cheeks as he settled them down to his side before he grabbed the next present as opened it. "And…shaving cream.”

“You like?” Dean asked his little brother with a growing smile, Sam nodded his head as he gave his brother an appreciated look. Dean was overcome with relief as he decided to open up his gifts from his brother. You looked down to see the first one was motor oil and the smallest one appeared to be a protein bar. You let out a small laugh, knowing these gifts were random, but it was the thought that counted. “Look at this—fuel for me and fuel for my baby. These are awesome. Thanks.”

While the brothers enjoyed their gifts, you couldn’t help yourself but indulge in the mood, handing over your own. Your lips stretched into a smile as you nodded your head for them to open it. You watched as each of them tore into the wrapping paper, letting the crushed bow fall to the floor as the paper turned into tiny pieces. They each were given a small box, but it was what you had on the inside that made their faces grow with surprise. Each of them had gotten a sterling silver pocket watch with their initials carved into the back with the Latin translation of “Little Brother” for Sam and “Big Brother” for Dean. As you motioned for them to open it, you could feel your smile growing when they caught the picture of the very last Christmas each of you shared as children.

“Well, damn.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He took out the watch and examined the detail you put into the gift. When he opened it up again, you could see his lips stretching into the faintest smile from the sight of parents staring back at him with the most happiest gift. “You shouldn’t have put this much effort into us, Y/N. But it’s great. Really, it is.”

“Yeah, Y/N. This is great. Thanks.” Sam said with an appreciated smile. As his eyes lingered back down to the engraving, a thought crossed his mind. He looked over at his brother for a moment as they began exchanging a few strangers glances. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering what they were doing before Sam was looking at you, the faintest smile growing across his lips. “Hey, why don’t you open up our gifts? Dean and I have something else for you.”

You could feel the couch drift upward from the weight Sam took off it as he went across toward the bed area, getting something from the duffel bag. You reached over to grab Dean’s present that was laying next to your side. Ripping open the paper package, your lips stretched into a smile when you saw he’d gotten your favorite candy of all time. You placed it down and reached over a hand to grab Sam’s present, but when you looked up, you saw that he was back, holding something a small paper box. He shook it around slightly, anticipating for you to open this one first. Grabbing the box from him, Sam took a seat again next to you before you could open it. You took a hold of the top, wiggling around the box before it was dropping to your lap by accident. What you saw inside made your face light up with joy, grabbing the present for further examination.

“Oh, my God.” You whispered. What you were holding was a pair of earrings, but they were nothing like you saw. Your finger traced over the familiar rusty looking golden metal as you twirled it around, letting the gemstone reflect in the fluorescent lights. They’d somehow made the shellcase of a bullet into earrings with your birthstone in the middle. But what you saw in the engraving made you let out a laugh. “Winchester .45 Colt. Oh, this is too

"Dean and I couldn’t decide on what to get you. It took a bit of arguing before we settled on this.” Sam said as he pointed a finger at the gemstone. “The bullets were his idea. I did a bit of research and come to find out, birthstone will protect someone from harm when they wear it.”

“We were gonna wait until your birthday, but now seems right.” Dean said. You looked over at him to see his lips were stretching into a faint smile. “With everything that you do for us, it’s one of the small ways to say thank you. Because, whether you want to admit it or not, you’re our family, Y/N. You always have been and always will be. No matter what.”

“You guys…are such dorks. I love them.” You mumble, looking back down at the earrings. There’s a small amount of silence that falls between all of you for a moment as the mood begins shifting around. You glance around to see the brothers are slowly nursing their drinks, trying to figure out how to continue on this night without making things awkward. “Well, if you guys are hungry, I have some food sitting in my room. I’ll go get it.”

Putting the earrings into a safe spot, you walk over to the motel door, abandoning your sweater after finding the room was beginning to grow warmer when Sam cranked the heat all the way up. You stepped out into the cold air, wrapping your hands around your body as you began walking forward. When you make your way to your own room, out of habit, you reach for your pockets expecting to feel the key, but you’re greeted with empty pockets. You let out a groan of annoyance, knowing where you left the key—in your sweater. But as you think about making your way back, the sudden weight of something warm and familiar is wrapped around your shoulders, making you jump slightly in surprise.

You looked over your shoulder to see that Dean had somehow snuck up behind you, and as since he knew you too well, he’d grabbed his leather jacket before finding you. You give him a smile as you slip your arms inside the holes and pull it closer to your body. There was always something about his jacket that you loved. As you took a small breath, you notice the familiar scents. “I got something else for you.” Dean said, breaking you out of your concentration. “Look in the pocket.”

Not thinking much more about it, you slip your hands inside the large pockets like he told you, feeling around for something, but when you touched something cold, your fingers latched onto a chain. You pulled out something from the left pocket to see that it was an item you thought you’d never see again. It was a silver locket, the kind your mother used to wear all the time before she passed. Your eyes widened when you opened it up, seeing the familiar pictures of your father and your baby pictures. This was the exact same one you thought you’d lost after she passed away. Your mouth opened, wanting to ask where he found it, but from the grin that was slowly stretching across his lips, he knew what you were trying to say.

“Turns out Bela’s got a soft side for you. I called her to try and see if she could help track it down. I thought it was gonna take a few threats, but she must have felt bad with everything before.” Dean said, explaining the situation. “It somehow got lost when you were cleaning out the house. I found it about a week ago. Took a bit of persuading to get it back from an old lady, but it was worth it.”

"Dean,” You whisper as you clutch the necklace. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Turn around for me.” Dean instructed, twirling his finger. “Let me help put it on.”

You give him the necklace for safekeeping as you turn around so your back is to him. As you lift up your hair so it won’t get caught in the chain, you could feel the light thud of the locket as Dean draped it over your neck. His fingers rest against the crook of your neck for a moment as he tries to find the clasp in the dim lighting. But after a moment, he gets it and steps back around to see you adjust it to make sure it was perfect. You look up for a moment when you catch something hanging from the awning. Before he could realize what you were doing, you lean forward on your tippy toes, and lightly pressing your lips against the scuff of his cheek. When you pull away, you could see the surprised look stretching across his facial features from what you’d done, but you point a finger upward to the mistletoe that was hanging above him. His lips stretch into a smile.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

Chapter Text

Your bare feet wandered across the cold titles of the motel bathroom as you put your toothbrush underneath the water, dampening the bristles before you grabbed the nearly empty tube of toothpaste from the counter to squirt a decent amount on. You made a mental note to grab more from the store as you chucked it into the wastebasket, putting the toothbrush into your mouth and continued your nightly routine. You already took a shower and changed into pajamas, which all was left to do was just brushing your pearly whites. As you turned around for a moment, your hips leaned themselves against the countertop as you made sure to get that piece of leftover food that was stuck in your back molars. But as you leaned farther into the mirror, your eyes glanced down to see the silver locket hanging around in the air. Your lips stretched into a faint smile from the memory that began to flood back, knowing Christmas just over a week ago. And you haven’t take off your gift since receiving it..

A free hand loosely wrapped itself around the cold locket as you head out of the bathroom, wondering what else you needed to do before going to bed. It wasn’t hard to see you still had dirty clothes lying on the floor after you took them off when arriving back from a late dinner with the boys. You decided to leave them there after all, knowing tomorrow was the last day you were staying here before you back on the road. Even though you all still needed to find another case, you were hopeful that one would catch your eye tomorrow. As the thought crossed your mind, the newspaper from the diner you’d bought on a whim was still at the table, waiting ever so patiently for your attention. You decided to head over and pick it up, wondering if there was anything decent enough to pass the time while you brushed your teeth. As you skimmed through the front page, you noticed a headline squished in the corner that caught your attention.

With the toothbrush pushed to one side of your mouth, you opened up the newspaper and flipped around the papers until you found the article. You began reading what you were presuming was just some story about a dentist’s gift to someone with bad oral hygiene that ended with them losing all their teeth. But what you stumbled upon made you subconsciously open your mouth just the slightest as you continued reading the story. It wasn’t exactly about a bum that didn’t like to brush their teeth, it was the complete opposite. A young, quite healthy, woman was brushing her teeth, like you were, until her teeth began to fall out of her mouth. There was no history of gum disease or gingivitis that her husband had admitted to the reporter, but the details were graphic enough to make you cringe. While a dentist suspected there could have been a strange bacteria that caused the decay of her gums, you knew there was something majorly off about this.

A finger reached up to your front tooth and began to softly push, wondering by the slightest chance you were going to feel something come loose. But nothing happened. All though as you tested another tooth, your eyes jumped up from the newspaper when you heard the motel door open the slightest, and just a few seconds later, someone knocking on it as a familiar face peeked itself through the crack. You forced the smallest smile you could muster up when you saw Dean staring at you with the most peculiar expression. A rosy tint began to spread across your cheeks when you realized your finger was still pressed itself against your tooth. You cleared your throat, dropping the newspaper to the table and waved him inside, trying to change the subject.

“Afraid to break it to you, Y/N, but,” Dean began starting the conversation as he stepped inside the room, quietly closing the bedroom door behind him. You gave him a look as you began to brush your teeth again, wondering what he wanted in the first place as you headed for the bathroom to spit. But what he said next made you stop in your tracks. “The tooth fairy ain’t real.”

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, taking the toothbrush out of your mouth as you continued your journey to the bathroom. Bending down, you spit out the contents in the sink before looking to Dean. “Very cute.” You mumbled as you turned on the water again so you could clean the toothbrush. “But guess who found us usa new case?”

“Wait, really?” Dean asked with a bit of surprise in his voice. You nodded your head, walking over to him as you grabbed the newspaper from the table before you pointed out the article you were previously reading. He skimmed through it for a few moments before he was letting out the faintest chuckle, obviously taken back from the graphic images the story had portrayed. "You sure know how to pick ‘em, don’t you?”

“This is something straight out of a horror movie, don’t you think? Her husband said about not being able to open the door when this was happening. It sounds like our kind of thing. I don’t know what could have done it, but I’m sure Sam can figure that out.” You said as you leaned your backside against the edge of the table. “Now, what were you in here to bug me for at this ungodly time of hour?”

“Sam used all the toothpaste. Can I borrow some of yours?” Dean asked. You shook your head with the faint smile spreading across your lips. As you looked down at the article once more, you could see Dean’s facial expressions were slowly turning into discomfort as he chucked the newspaper to you, knowing he’d had to make a run to the gas station for the pariona you put on him. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

+ + +

It took a day or so of research to figure out what could have caused a woman of perfect health to lose all of her teeth before bleeding to death on her bathroom floor. While you thought you’d seen everything there was to know about the supernatural, this case had taken a turn when Sam suggested a witch could have been at fault. Not the ones in fairy tales you grew up thinking they were nothing more than evil creatures defined by their big noses and warts that makes spells over their black culgrines. In reality, all you needed was a book about dark magic and someone could do just about anything they wanted with the right amount of revenge. Which meant another thing; there could have been a list of possible suspects for the murder of Janet Dutton.

You and the brothers were traveling to a suburban town in Massachusetts, which meant another tedious long car ride for you. Before you left the privilege of internet access for the backseat of the Impala, you found what you could about witches to inform yourself and printed them out. Most of the ride was trying to find what you could about any lore and history about these creatures that wasn’t made up or linked the Salem witch trials. As the states passed, you were learning more information about them which you found to be quite fascinating. Even after making it into town and settling at the motel, you were back at it again, until all of you were at the Dutton residence, and being pulled out of your thoughts when someone was calling out your name.

“Nancy Drew, wanna get back into reality here?” You glanced up from the papers to see Dean was leaning against the front seat with his arm waving around in your face, trying to get you to focus on what was going on. As you opened your mouth to retort with a comment, you realized what was he was being impatient about. “Great. Now that you’re with us again, it’s show time.”

“What are we posing as today?” You asked, shuffling around papers into their proper folders before you were tucking them into one side of the car for safekeeping. Sam had been holding the fake badges in his hands, as if he were waiting for the cue from you, he tossed you the leather pouch with just enough of a warning for you to catch it. When you opened it up and examined the details, the slightest chuckle escaped you. “Center of Disease Control. Right. Let’s see how this one works out.”

You and the brothers got out of the car and headed for the house, making sure everything about your formal apparel was perfect before you were knocking on the front door. A few moments later, you were greeted with Paul Dutton, a man who looked nothing short of emotionally and physically exhausted. You gave him the faintest smile before you greeted the widow with the badge being held in the air, just enough for Paul to examine it before his tired eyes were squinting with confusion before the reality set in. It didn’t take much words for him to allow you all into the house to discuss his late wife’s sudden death. He lead you through the house until you stepped inside the master bedroom with its own bathroom just off to the side, exactly where Janet had spent her last moments before she died. Dean occupied himself with asking Paul a few questions as you and Sam inspected whatever you could to either prove that this death was just some freak accident. Or maybe someone wanted her dead.

“I couldn’t help. I couldn’t do anything to stop it.” Paul retold the story as you listened closely from over the squeaky bathroom hinges you tested as Sam pretended to inspect the foundation, wondering if there was a way the door could have gotten stuck. “I’ve talked to the police and I’ve talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it.”

“That’s why they put the call into us, Mr. Dutton.” Dean said as he scribbled down more notes into his notepad, trying his hardest to keep the man busy as you and Sam continued searching.

“But the CDC, that’s diease control, right?” Paul questioned the man. You took the opportunity to turn around on your heels and look around the bathroom more, wondering where someone would hide something Sam called a hex bag. “W-What do you think—it’s some kind of virus?”

Sam quietly closed the door behind him to give you both some privacy before you and him were on the hunt to find this suspicious bag. The conversation outside was reduced to muffles as you headed over to the medicine cabinet, pushing on the glass before you pushed back the fragile door, inspecting the content inside to see if there was a small bag that looked out of place. Besides the half-empty cough medicine and bottles of soap for later use. When you noticed that nothing was catching your attention, you closed the cabinet doors before you glanced down, wondering if someone had been playing dirty. You let out a quiet sigh before you were dropping yourself to your knees on the bathroom floor so you were at eye level with the cabinet underneath the sink. Reaching a hand inside your pocket, you pulled out a flashlight and continued continued searching.

While you started off with almost nothing exciting besides bathroom cleaners neatly tucked away and a bucket for a leak, it’s when you looked at the piping to see that something didn’t exactly seem like it belonged. You reached a hand inside the cabinet and pulled out a dull brown bag, no bigger than your fist, but as you pulled it out, you noticed the velvety fabric was strange against your skin. You sat on your knees to inspect the small bag that was tied together on top with a thick string. You looked over shoulder to see that Sam was searching a few other places, but it seemed that you beat him to it. “Hey, Sam.” You whispered, catching his attention. You waved around the small bag with eyebrows arched up. “Is this what we’re looking for?”

Sam nodded his head, a bit of relief coming across in his facial expressions as you tossed him the bag for safekeeping. There was just something about holding the hex bag that was giving you the creeps. As Sam tucked it away it into his jacket pocket, you pulled yourself to your feet and dusted whatever dirt that might have gotten on your clothing before stepping out of the bathroom after Sam held the door open for you. Dean seemed to be wrapping the conversation up with Paul, you could hear from the man’s tone of voice that he was beginning to become defensive and agitated from Dean’s quite unusual questions nobody would quite expect to hear from someone who claimed to just be working in poison control.

“No there’s no way that could have…” Paul began speaking again after you heard Dean asked the man if there was anyone that could have wanted to hurt him or Janet. But while he kept going with that thought, he turned his head to the side for a moment, a sudden idea crossed his mind, rendering the man silent for a moment. Dean had to politely call out the other man’s name to break him out of his concentration. Paul shook his head, continuing with his answer that didn’t help either one of you. “Uh, everyone loved Janet.”

Dean looked over at you and his brother for a moment, wondering just by a glance if either one of you found anything. You could see from the corner of your eye that Sam lifted the one hand that was resting inside his suit jacket to signal he’d gotten the hex bag. The older brother turned his gaze back to Paul, he jotted something else down in the notepad before wrapping the conversation up. “Okay. Thank you very much. I think we got everything we need.” Dean said, closing the small black leather notepad as he tucked it in his breast pocket of the jacket. “We’ll be out of your way now.”

You gave the widow a polite smile as you followed behind Dean with Sam following on your trail. But before you could step out of the bedroom, you were looking over your shoulder to take one more look at his facial expressions. There was something off about it ever since Dean asked who could have done something to his wife. It was like he knew, but he didn’t want to tell, just in case he was wrong. Maybe it was just a sneaking suspicion from all those crime shows you’d watched to pass the time that was messing with your head. Yet, you shouldn’t shake the feeling off like he wasn’t telling you something. But you reminded yourself that you found the hex bag and it was out his territory. If there was someone out there with a grudge against Janet, hopefully Paul would be safe.

As you stepped out of the home, you made sure to grab the umbrella you brought in after reading on the weather report about possible rain. The northern parts of the states could have been a real hit or miss about the weather. All though it was cold, the temperature wasn’t enough for the rainfall to turn into snow just yet. You could see that you were right when you stepped on the porch. You opened up the black umbrella and made your way to the Impala. But as you began walking only to the first small concrete staircase, you noticed that the brothers were a hit hesitant after noticing the light rainfall coming down. A thought crossed your mind as you turned back to look at them, the ends of your lips curled themselves into a smile.

“What, are you two suddenly the Wicked Witches of the West? A little rain isn’t going to melt you into a puddle, boys.” You said, humor lining in your words as your smile grew from their expressions. Surely enough, they made the treacherous journey to where you were standing to explain what’d you found. Before Sam could bring up the hex bag, you wanted to ask them about something that was beginning to bother you when you thought more about it. “Is it me, or did that guy seem a little evasive to you?”

Dean shrugged his shoulders, not seeming to be picking up the vibes you were getting on the man. You glanced over at the closed front door once more, all before your attention was being drawn away when Sam pulled out the bag. “So, Y/N was under the bathroom sink. And she pulled this out.” He said, reaching inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the small pouch before placing it into Dean’s hand. “Hex bag.”

“Ohh, gross.” Dean muttered underneath his breath in disgust. You wondered what was making him so squeamish, but when he pulled the string off, you noticed there was all sorts of rotten looking things below. Your eyebrows furrowed as you leaned in closer, you noticed there was a floral pattern fabric lining the bag, along with something that looked decayed and dirty.

“What the hell is in there?” You asked Sam, hesitantly poking a finger around at the array of small objects as you wondered why all of this was needed. You picked up a small object from the pile; it was smooth against your skin with a color that almost looked like a very dirty shade of ivory. You wondered why this looked familiar. “Hey, is this—”

"Bird bones? Yeah. And if you look close enough, there’s probably a few rabbit’s teeth in there in there, too.” Sam explained, making you drop the bone you were touching quickly after he explained what it was. Your face scrunched up as you wiped your palm against your coat. “And this cloth was probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned.”

“So we’re officially thinking witch?” You asked for clarification.

You began walking back down the steps, becoming tired of the rain as you could feel the wetness was starting to make you shiver. Dean shoved the bag back into his brother’s hand before he was following behind, Sam was trailing behind again. “Yeah. I think so.” Sam said, answering your question as you all headed for the Impala parked against the sidewalk. “And not some new-age wiccan water douser, either. This is old-world black magic, guys, I mean, warts and all.”

A slight chuckle escaped you from the image as you closed the umbrella, shaking off the excess rain before you were following behind the boys, slipping into the backseat of the Impala and slamming the door shut. You chucked the object to your feet, knowing how much Dean would freak if you even thought about putting something wet on his precious leather seats. But it seems another thought crosses the man’s mind from what he said next.

“I hate witches.” Dean admits, swinging in arm over the seat so he’s facing his brother. You and Sam let out a quiet laugh from the man’s response of who caused the death of Janet. All though you’d never personally dealt with any cases during the years of research and hunting, from what he was saying, you were growing a bit hesitant to know what the future held. “They’re always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. It’s creepy. No. It’s downright unsanitary.”

“Yeah, well, someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton.” You said, noting her gruesome death.

“Someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag.” Dean agreed with you, taking another peek at the house before glancing over at his brother. "So, what are we thinking? Looking for some craggy old blair bitch in the woods?”

“No, it could be anyone–a neighbor, coworker, man, woman.” Sam said, explaining the slightly disappointing news that might have made this case a bit harder to figure out who would have wanted Janet dead. “They’re human. They’re like everyone else.”

“Great.” You mumbled. “How are we gonna find them?”

“This wasn’t random.” Sam said. “Someone in Janet Dutton’s life had an ugly ax to grind. We find the motive…”

“We find the murderer.” You finished the man’s thought, nodding your head in agreement. Dean turned on the engine as it roared to life before you all were back on the road, heading for the motel. As you began to get lost into your thoughts, you reached for the manilla folders you’d messily tucked the papers into. But as you only opened up the folder, a thought crossed your mind. “Do you think the Duttons were happily married?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, not seeming to have a real answer for what you were presuming about a small group of people you’d never formally met or heard of before until just a few days ago. “Who’s to say. He seemed pretty broken up about his wife’s death. Why?”

“I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, but, what if she was cheating on him? Or maybe Paul wasn’t faithful as we think to his wife.” You said, taking a presumption from what you had learned over the past few days. “Most cheating spouses promise their lovers that they’ll leave their significant other. But what if they didn’t, though? What if they just went on living their life, pretending like everything was okay. Sure would piss off someone enough to want them dead. I mean, I’m pretty sure you guys have a few crazy ex-girlfriends though the years. Well, let me correct myself, just you, Dean.“

"Hey!” Dean said, his tone sounded like he was almost offended from the accusation. You rolled your eyes with a smile growing across your lips from his reaction. “So, where are you going with this, Y/N? Someone’s itching for revenge on the Duttons?”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” You said, quoting the famous line. “All I’m saying is that Paul might be hiding something. And there’s something about his reaction from earlier that’s telling me we shouldn’t leave him alone tonight. I have a feeling he can lead us to who killed his pretty wife.”

+ + +

Well, you might have been wrong about the cheating spouse theory for the Duttons. You spent the rest of the afternoon trying to find any of the usual signs of cheating between Janet and Paul. You skimmed through their credit cards to see if there was anything out of the ordinary or trips to motels, but that was coming up empty. Their phone records didn’t show any random phone calls in the middle of the night. You were becoming suspicious that maybe it could have been done by someone else for another reason. But still, you and the boys geared yourselves up for a long night of stalking Paul Dutton. All though it might have been for nothing, whoever caused his wife’s death was still out there. And he might have been the only link of finding out who did this.

It was growing closer to midnight when you looked at the clock on the dashboard. You let out another yawn as you brought your attention to the car parked just across the way. In the darkness you could make out Paul’s model even in the darkness. He’d been sitting there for the past hour after grabbing a late night meal. While he was enjoying the peace of not being at home, you took the cup of coffee Sam happily grabbed a little while ago and brought it to your lips, enjoying the warmth that it brought through your body. While you weren’t tired, the caffeine would help sharpen your senses if something were to happen. Maybe the Duttons shared a common enemy Paul wasn’t willing to disclose. Take the easiest target down, leaving Paul to squirm around, wondering if he was going to be next.

You knew it hadn’t even been a week since Janet died, maybe the person at fault for this wanted to wait for a longer cooling off period. But you were beginning to feel that thought dwindle away when you saw something catch your attention. You furrowed your eyebrows as you leaned in your seat, you watched a shadowy figure in the parking lot just across the way stumble out of the car. It took you just a split second before you realized it was Paul, and from his actions, something wasn’t right. “Guys!” You nearly shouted, quickly pointing a finger at the sight unfolding right in front of your eyes. “Something’s going on with him.”

The boys seemed to understand what you were suspecting, because without a warning, your free hand was wrapping around the front seat to steady yourself as Dean pressed his foot on the gas, sending the Impala hurling forward. It took almost a blink of an eye before all of you made it to where Paul was standing before the car was parked into park. You could see from the headlights that something was wrong. Paul was kneeling on the ground, his hands were wrapped around his neck, like he was choking on something. You opened up the backseat door, letting the coffee cup drop toward the concrete as you headed forward to the man, with the brothers hot on your heels.

You and Dean helped the man off the pavement as Sam headed for the open driver’s side door of the car, dropping to his knees so he could find the hex bag. Paul kept coughing and trying his hardest to breathe, but you knew things were about to turn south if Sam wasn’t quick enough. You called out the younger man’s name as a warning, but just a few seconds later, you heard him shout something in victory. He pulled out a lighter and set the bag on fire before dropping it to the ground. With the hex bag slowly being burned into ashes, Paul let out a few wheezing coughs before his breathing was turning back to normal. He took in a few deep breaths as you asked him if he was okay from everything that had just unfolded.

“What the hell is happening to me?” Paul asked, his words rushed out with nervousness.

“Someone murdered your wife. Now they’re trying to kill you.” Dean explained, not caring if he was being blunt with the man. Of course, it didn’t take much time before Paul was babbling out an excuse, having no clue of what was going on. But Dean stopped the man before he could continue. “If we hadn’t been following you, you’d be a doornail. Now, who wants you dead? Come on, think.”

“There’s a woman.” Paul spitted out information, you nodded your head, ushering for him to continue with this thought. “An affair, a-a mistake. She was unbalanced. She was blackmailing me. I put an end to it a week ago.”

“What’s her name?” You asked him.

Paul turned his head to you with his face scrunching up. “What could she have to do with what–”

“Enough.” You cut him off. “What is her name, Paul?”

The same look came across his facial expressions when you pressured him to speak. But this time, he answered with something you all could use.

+ + +

Amanda Burns was the lover scorned. You learned what you could about her before you got an address out of the deal, too. With the knowledge in hand, you and the brothers tracked the woman down to make all of this madness come to an end. You pulled up to her house to see all the lights were mostly turned off, except for a dimly lit one you caught on the second floor. You and the brothers quietly headed to the front door, scanning the downstairs floor through the small floor length window just beside the door as Dean worked on picking the lock. When you heard the familiar click and door squeak open, you followed behind the boys as they slowly charged inside, heading to where Amanda would be hiding out, probably celebrating for a job well done.

You walked up the staircase and down the hall before you spotted the only door that was closed around the place. Dean quietly headed for the door first, making sure to slowly scan the place as he pushed forward, when he saw the coast was clear, you and Sam followed behind. As you walked forward to the room with your weapon drawn out, you looked around the room, waiting to find Amanda. You had found her just across the room, but not exactly in a position you were expecting. Amanda was lying on a coffee table with her arms resting on each side of her head. It was clear enough from here to see she was covered in a pool of her own blood. You weren’t expecting to find her dead before you got here.

“That’s a curveball.” Dean said, obviously not expecting to see this.

You nodded your head in agreement before you were heading forward to the woman, wondering if she were really dead. You put the gun useful by putting the barrel of it against her arm, pushing it back to see her wrists were bloody from a some kind of puncture wounds. But as you took a closer look, the marks almost looked eerily similar to you. Like she’d done them herself. “Three per wrist–vertical.” You noted as you checked her other wrists to see the same wounds. As you looked at everything she had sprawled across the table, you could feel a hand pressing itself against your mouth when you caught sight of a rotten meal sitting on top of everything. “Oh God, is that–maggots?”

“Don’t be such a girl, Y/N. They’re just bugs.” Dean said, you tossed him a dirty glare.

“Bugs that eat your body after you go six feet under, asshat.” You hissed at him. “Ugh, whatever. Is this the sort of thing someone could use to witcraft? Make someone’s meal turn into…this?”

Sam nodded his head, being the unfortunate person that decided to crouch so he could take a better look at Amanda’s body. “Yeah,” He said. “Looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here.”

Dean listened to what his brother was saying as he turned around, deciding to look around the room some more. As you leaned down to take a peek at the woman’s note, you nearly jumped a foot when you heard the sudden startling yell coming from Dean. You quickly turned your head to see that he was just a few inches from a dead rabbit that was hanging from the ceiling. You let out a laugh, enjoying the small moment of karma. “Freaking witches!” He barked out, a hand running down his face from the jumpscare. “Seriously, man! Come on!”

“Don’t be such a girl, Dean. It’s just a widdle wabbit.” You mocked him, a smirk coming to the ends of your lips when you saw him roll his eyes at your comeback. “But I guess that explains where she got the rabbit’s teeth from.”

“Paul knows how to pick 'em. It’s like "Fatal Attraction’ all over again.” Dean said, his attention lingering back to the dead carcass. While you were tempted to make another comment, you had to admit Amanda was pretty vicious with the animal, from how bloody his mouth was to the perfect angle she caught the blood into a silver bowl just below. “Why’s the rabbit always get screwed in the deal? Poor little guy.”

“While it’s nice to see that you have a heart for furry creatures, Dean, you know what I don’t get?” You asked them, your attention glancing down to the woman’s dead body again. “If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?”

“Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself. And make it a spurned lover’s hat trick.” Dean suggested a theory. You shrugged your shoulders as Sam nodded his head, deciding to take a closer look around to find an answer that way. “This doesn’t exactly look like a TV room of a bright and stable person, you know?”

“No. But then,” Sam said as he was crouching on the ground, seeming to have found something tucked underneath the coffee table. You saw him pull something out before he was back to his feet, holding what you saw was another familiar bag you found just this morning. “There’s this.”

Sam tossed it over to his brother, who swiftly grabbed it and took one glance at it before knowing what it was. “Another hex bag? Come on.” He mumbled underneath his breath, tossing the bag to the table as he pulled out his cell phone, calling the police. “Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence–Hi, yes. I would like to report a dead body at 309 Mayfair Circle. My name? Yeah, sure, my name is…” But before the operator could catch it, Dean shut the phone and headed over to his brother. “Why are witches ganking each other?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “But I think maybe we got a coven on our hands.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and examined Amanda’s dead body. “Well, let the witch hunt begin.”

+ + +

The next morning you and the brothers were back in the neighborhood of Amanda Burns, dressed in the usual formal outfits and fake badges tucked in your pocket for the neighbors who were curious to wonder why someone was asking questions about a dead woman. Most of the people you spoke to had nothing but the same things to say; Amanda was a polite and sweet woman, always waved hello when she was heading to work or going to a friend’s house. All though there was a few who had slipped about her strange behavior just a few days before she passed away. She’d been preoccupied with other things or jumpy when someone would say hello to her. They thought it could have been she was having issues with a man she had been seeing over the past few months. Little did they know Amanda the good neighbor was a cheater, and preoccupied with planning out a couple of murders on the side.

You gotten a decent amount of information from your side of the houses you took. While the boys were finishing up their parts, you said a final thank you to an older married couple that had said all of the same information you’d heard a dozen times before. As you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body, you walked down the driveway and began heading to see where the brothers ended up. You began looking around the neighborhood, inspecting the houses to see if you could catch their familiar faces. But as the attention shifted to the house sitting across the way, your eyebrows furrowed slightly together in confusion from what you saw a woman doing in the middle of winter.

The temperatures were mild today, high forties that seemed warm enough for most to shed the winter coats and put on a light jacket. She might be out enjoying the sunshine like some of the mothers walking their babies or squeezing in some exercise underneath the sunshine before the threat of snow would come. While that seemed normal, you weren’t coming up for a reasonable excuse for what she was doing. She was down on her knees, gardening quite a lively group of plants that seem to stick out from the shades of brown lawns and shriveled up bushes across the neighborhood. Either she was quite talented, or she would do anything to make her lawn the best looking thing here.

You decided to walk over, stuffing your hands inside your pockets and quietly trailed over with your eyes wandering across the herbs. “You must have a green thumb.” You said, breaking the woman’s concentration. She turned her gaze away from the soil she was digging around and tending to and gave you a look, thrown off from your voice that broke the peaceful quietness. A smile spread across your lips as you took out a hand and gestured a finger at the garden. “Getting these herbs to grow out of season like this. And I can’t even keep a houseplant alive. Quite impressive.”

The woman looked down at her plants as her grip on the small shovel tightened. You saw from the corner of your eye that the boys were heading forward after talking to their own list of neighbors. Sam gave the woman a polite smile, obviously seeming to notice how she was becoming from the unexpected compliment you had given her. “I’m sorry. We should introduce ourselves first.” Sam said, saving the conversation before it could go south. All of you pulled out your badges and showed it to the woman. She pushed herself to her feet, knowing this was something about something serious. “I’m Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner and our newest partner, Detective Ryder. We’re following up on Amanda Burns’ death. Going around the neighborhood, the talking to her neighbors.”

“But didn’t she,” The woman began speaking in a sort of soft and stuttering tone. But she shook her head, catching herself in time, speaking now in a louder voice so she sounded a bit normal. “I mean, she killed herself, right?”

“Maybe. We’re still looking into more possibilities to be safe.” You said. A finger pointed to the house were just at, remembering the conversation about how Amanda bad been growing close to a few of her neighbors. You suspected she was one of them since they lived right across from each other. “We heard you were friends with the deceased, right?”

She looked down at the ground for a moment as she shrugged her shoulders, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Do you have any idea about her practices?” Dean asked, pushing the conversation further to the reason why you all were here for.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, her facial expressions stretching into confusion from the question that seemed to have caught her off guard. “What—What kind of practices?”

“Well, her house was littered with satanic paraphernalia.” You explained, wondering what response you were going to get next. “It was a regular black sabbath.”

The woman shook her head, “No, th—but she was an episcopalian.”

“Well,” Dean mumbled for a moment as you looked over at him, obviously noticing that the woman had been keeping a squeaky clean image from her friends and neighbors. He let out the faintest chuckle before glancing back at her. “Then we’re pretty sure she was using the wrong bible.”

Before either one of you could get another word in, you heard someone else’s voice calling out the woman’s name. You looked over your shoulder to see two women were heading forward, their facial expressions were written with the sort of protective and snarky feel, like they were approaching outsiders of their quaint little fenced in neighborhood. “Elizabeth.” The blonde called out her friend’s name. She stepped forward to the one you were speaking to. “Are you alright?”

"I’m fine. Um, Renee, these are detectives.” Elizabeth said, turning her gaze to her blonde friend. You could see the slightest amount of fear crossing her expressions from what she was about to say next to the two women. “They say Amanda was—She was practicing—”

Renee grew a smile as she placed a hand on Elizabeth, brushing off everything with a small laugh. "Sorry, detectives.” She apologized, taking control of the conversation before her friend could speak again. “You can tell that Elizabeth is a little upset.”

“Of course, Miss…” You trailed off, hinting the slightest for what her last name was to keep this formal and polite. But it seemed the blonde took this conversation to another level.

You could see Renee’s eyes trail down to the left hand where no ring with a sparkly diamond laid. She had to be just a few years older than you, and seeing that she had almost everything you didn't—a beautiful home and a ring to match her happy marriage. It made her lips stretch into a confident smirk. “Mrs. Renee Van Allen.” She corrected you, saying each word with such forceful pronunciation. You narrowed your eyes from the sudden snarky attitude she was giving you. “Would you like me to sell it out for you?”

“No, thanks. I’ll get by.” You mumbled, your fingers beginning to tucked themselves into a fist from her attitude. You glanced examined her ring for a moment, wondering how big it was before you looked up at her. "Wow. Such a pretty engagement ring. Mr. Van Allen sure has a talent for finding cubic zirconia that almost looks like the real thing. I mean, anyone with an untrained eye would think it was real.”

You gave the woman a cocky smirk, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to show off the earrings you’d gotten for Christmas. They were real stone, and while her diamond was clear enough to look like the real thing, you couldn’t help but mess with Renee for the hell of it. The perfect housewife who had everything was someone you ran into back at home. She huffed out the smallest breath, keeping herself composed as she steered the conversation back to what you were discussing before. "This Amanda business has been hard for Liz,” Renee said, glancing over at her friends before back at the three of you. “For all of us.”

“Yeah,” The third friend spoke up, “I mean, you think you know a person.”

"Well, I guess we all have secrets, don’t we? I know this neighborhood seems like a cute, cozy place to raise your kids.” You said, glancing around the big and fancy looking homes. “But then you find out your neighbor is practicing witchcraft. Think you know someone until it turns out their crazy as hell.”

Sam let out the slightest chuckle from your comment, obviously not like the comments you were throwing out without much thought. "Y/N, like I said, she’s still a newbie. We’ve got a few more things to teach her.” He said, turning his gaze toward you as he gave you a smile, the kind which was laced with a quiet warning to shut your mouth. “But thank you for your time, ladies. Um, we’ll be in touch.”

“Here.” You pulled out a pen and your pad of paper, flipping open the leather top so you could scribble down your cell phone number. Renee’s gaze lingers down to the pair of gloves you accidentally drop to the ground without your notice. You rip the piece of paper off and hand it to Elizabeth, having a feeling there was something about her fragile appearance that might lead to where you and the boys were trying to find. “It’s my number, just in case something pops up. Thanks again.”

You shoved the pen and paper back into your pockets, giving the woman a formal smile before you were turning on your heels, walking behind the boys. The Impala was parked just across the way, giving you all a bit of a distance to walk, leaving the only noise to hear is the mumbled conversation coming from the brothers and the clicks of your heels against the pavement. As you put your hands inside your pockets again, you feel around the objects, most of them are familiar, but you quickly notice something is missing. You let out a frustrated sigh when you notice that your favorite gloves are missing. All though it was fairly warm out, you never knew when you were going to need them next. You thought you’d had them when you left the motel. But before you could make yourself go crazy, someone from behind you tapped a finger on your shoulder.

You turned around to see one of the women you’d just spoken to was standing right from behind, a polite smile spread across her lips and your gloves in her hand. A sigh of relief escaped you as her smile grew. "I thought these belonged to you. I saw you drop them when you were writing down something for Elizabeth.” She said, handing the gloves over to you. Nodding your head, you opened your mouth, but you didn’t catch her name from before. “I’m Tammi, by the way. I couldn’t quite introduce myself with Renee running her big mouth.”

“Yeah, right.” You mumbled with a small laugh, shoving your gloves back into your jacket for safekeeping. “Thanks, again.”

“You’re welcome.” Tammi said, her lips stretching into grin. “Have a good day, Y/N.”

+ + +

Darkness had set long ago when you and the boys were driving back from time spent between the library and town hall. There was something about the group of women that had you curious to know more about them. You and Sam researched what public information you could get your hands on before heading back on the road. You sat in the backseat, like always, with a flashlight in one hand and a folder of everything you found on about Elizabeth, which turns out, was quite a bit from the newspaper articles you found out about her. She seemed like a woman with quite a bit of luck. And how she was acting when the subject of Amanda’s past time was brought up, that had raised a red flag for you. She was acting like someone was accusing her of witchcraft. A small chuckle escaped you from the thought as you flipped through more of the articles.

“Well, I’m already sold on that Elizabeth chick.” Dean said, breaking your concentration from the papers. Obviously it seemed all of you had silently agreed there was something going on with the woman, and you were curious to find out what it was. Her pastime was the biggest clue. “Did you see that victory garden of hers? Belladonna, wolfsbane, mandrake. Not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult.”

“She’s definitely had a good run lately. Gone up a few tax brackets, won almost too many raffles—the kind of thing a little black magic always helps with.” You said, glancing back down at the papers as you flipped through the papers with your free hand. “And I don’t think she’s alone, either. It looks like Mrs. Renee Van Allen has won almost every craft contest she’s entered in the past three months. Probably explains why she acts like such a narcissistic bitch.”

“A regular Martha Stewart, huh? Well, except for the devil’s worship.” Dean said. “I’m thinking that was the coven we met back there, minus one member.”

“Amanda was clearly going off the reservation.” Sam said, mentioning the murder that didn’t seem to be apart of the plan for the coven. Sure, they liked to shamelessly indulge fro their favorite past times and win whatever competitions they took part of. But maybe revenge murder wasn’t on the to do list for the housewives. So they gave her a taste of her own medicine before things got worse. “You think they killed her to keep up her appearances?”

“Seems like an apperance kind of crowd, don’t you think?” You asked the boys. Clearly those women were nothing more than those who liked to make sure everything was nice and tidy. You had a feeling the guilt of killing their member would be weighing on their conscious from how they were acting earlier, all jumpy and defensive from the subject. “If they killed the unstable one, should we thank them or what? Kind of makes our job a bit easier.”

“They work in black magic, too, Y/N.” Sam said, pointing out a fact that seemed to have almost slipped your mind. “They need to be stopped.”

You thought something like this would have come from someone like Dean, who always liked to shoot first and ask questions later. But Sam, the gentle giant who always wanted to look for the best in people, was the one acting without much second thought. “Stopped, like stopped?” You repeated after the man, pushing yourself to the front seat so you could look at the man for confirmation. But you could feel your face beginning to drop in shorter when you saw his answer was a shrug of the shoulders, like it was all right. “They’re human, Sam.”

“They’re murderers.” Sam corrected you. “Who knows what they might do next.”

You looked over at Dean, wondering what his response was going to be on this matter. He was silent for the longest moment as his gaze lingered on the open road. Of course, he knew Sam had been right about everything. "Burn, witch, burn.” He mumbled underneath his breath.

Swallowing slightly, you dropped yourself back into your seat and began wondering how you were going to take down three women who’d had killed one of their own. Your eyes trailed over to the flashlight that had rolled on top of the newspaper clippings. How the hell were you going to kill a group of women who just wanted to garden all year round and win all the silly local competitions in town? But part of you knew Sam was right. They did murder someone. And what if Elizabeth scraped up enough courage to rat out her fellow friends? It would be a matter of time before she would end up dead, too. Once you get a taste for blood and power, there was never going back.

You could feel your attention shifting away from the papers when the Impala began to start acting strange, the engine making all sorts of noises you’d never heard before. Dean seemed confused himself of what was going on as the headlights began to flicker with the car slowly easing to a stop. He’d filled up the tank this morning and the car had been running smoothly. You didn’t know what could be happening as you all eased into a stop right in the middle of the road. But when you looked straight out the window, you could see someone standing just a foot from it. Her arms were crossed as her figure shined in the headlights. Your grip around the papers tightened. Part of you really didn’t want deal with her right now. Whenever she was around, danger followed.

You pushed open the backseat door, following behind the brothers as they slipped out of the car, wanting to know what she was doing here. Dean glared at the woman, obviously not happy that she’d done something to his baby. But she didn’t seem fazed with something on her mind. You stood behind the door, your hands wrapped around the cold metal door. “Ruby.” Sam said, his voice was calm. Yet, you could tell he was worried seeing her under these circumstances.

“Sam, listen to me.” Ruby said. “There’s no time.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked with your voice growing with concern.

“You two have to get out of town.” She warned the both of you.

But before she could explain what was going on to either one of you, the conversation was taking a turn when Dean got out of the car. He took a step forward, taking a moment to glance over at the infamous demon. “So, this is Ruby, huh?” He asked with curiosity. You couldn’t help yourself close your eyes and press your forehead against the cold glass window in growing frustration, suddenly remembering that Dean had never met her before. She was only mentioned in conversations about her crazy suggestions she told you or Sam. Your gut had a feeling he wasn’t going to like her. And if that wasn’t enough, you opened your eyes again just in time to see that he’d pulled out the colt and cocked the gun. You mumbled the man’s name in a warning tone, but you knew his hunter instincts were kicking in. “Never had the pleasure. I was hoping you’d show up again.”

Ruby didn’t seem threatened, more pissed off from the disruption as she glanced over at Dean with an annoyed expression. “Point that thing somewhere else.” She ordered to the hunter. But all she got as a response was a forced out laughter from the man, like she’d just cracked a joke.

“Right.” Dean hissed, his index finger moving to the trigger.

The demon rolled her eyes, letting the annoyance pass through her before she became serious as she glanced over at the other brother and you. “Sam, Y/N, please. Go.” She warned you both with seriousness in her voice. “Get in the car and don’t look back.”

She tried asking the demon why, but his brother cut back into the conversation before either one of you could get an answer. “Hey, hot stuff,” Dean called out to Ruby, dragging her attention back to the man. “We can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks.”

“I’m not talking about witches, you jackass.” She hissed at him. “Witches are whores. I’m talking about who they serve.”

It took you a moment to figure out what she was talking about. You thought about it for a moment before your face dropped in surprise when you realized who was doing all of this. “Demons.” You mumbled underneath your breath. “They get their powers from demons.”

“Yeah.” Ruby said. “And there’s one here now.”

Your hand shifted away from the door handle when you could feel a strange tightness building up in your chest. Pressing your palm against your throat, you tried taking in a deep breath, hoping it was just you forgetting to breathe from everything that was going on. “Oh, what, you mean besides you?” Dean questioned the other woman.

“Sam, it knows you guys are in town, and it’s gonna come after you and Y/N,” Ruby warned the younger man. “And it’s way more than you can handle.”

“Oh, come on. What is this, huh?” Dean asked with a hardening voice as he glanced over at Sam, wanting to see his reaction. “Please tell me you’re not listening to this crap.”

“Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you want to keep him.” She warned him.

Sam let out a quiet sigh as he glanced over at his brother, he mumbled out a warning for him to calm down. But Dean wasn’t having it. He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “No! No! She’s messing with your head! God knows why.” Dean said, giving his own reasons to not trust the demon, thinking about the past ones he’d dealt with in the past. “That’s who they are!”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“I’m telling you to shut up, bitch!”

“I’m sorry. Why are you even a part of this conversation?” Ruby asked, her focus on trying to win the argument with the oldest Winchester as she took a giant step forward.

“I don’t know,” Dean pretended to think for a moment before he was snapping at her again with a venomous tone. “Maybe because they’re my family, you black- eyed skank!”

“Oh, right, right. And you care about them so much.” Ruby said, her words were becoming filled with sarcasm as she continued on. “That’s why you’re checking out, leaving them all alone.”

Before Dean could have said something offensive to Ruby, you opened your mouth to direct this conversation into more of a positive one that would leave both parties at least. “Guys, please.” You mumbled with a sigh of annoyance. You began to take in a deep breath, hoping that would give you some air to start of a decent speech to calm their nerves. But you found yourself pressing a palm against the side of the Impala, your breathing turning into short pants for a few seconds. As the puffs went on, they were turning shorter, until you were gasping for any breath you could hold on to. You could feel a familiar tightness building up in your chest. Something was happening. And you had a feeling Ruby’s previous warning had just expired.

“You guys sure know how to keep low profile, huh.” Ruby mumbled underneath her breath as she began heading forward, knowing very well what was causing this. But before she could take another step, Dean wasn’t in the mood to play nice. He pointed the gun directly in her sight with the barrel aimed at her forehead. She stopped in her tracks, but still, she wasn’t afraid of what he might do. “Go ahead. Shoot me if it’ll get you off.”

“Dean.” Sam spoke, he peeked his head out from the backseat as he tried scavenging every inch of the place to see where the hex bag could be. His brother wasn’t in the mood to listen to anyone right now, the gun was still pointed at Ruby. He was losing his own patience. "Damn it. If you’re not gonna do it for me, do it for Y/N. She’s turning blue!”

The oldest Winchester contemplated of pulling the trigger, wasting another bullet on a demon that really hadn’t been much of a threat on any of them. It took another second to pass before he had to give up, knowing there was little time to be wasted. You were trying your hardest to keep holding on. Even with Ruby and Sam now searching every inch of the car to see where the hex bag was, you were beginning to feel everything around you turn hazy. You found yourself back against the car with your palms pressed against the cold metal, your nails dragging themselves across the black paint. Your lungs felt like someone was squeezing them with all their might, trying to get every ounce of breath inside your body out.

You tried concentrating on the sounds of objects being thrown around and curse words muttered underneath someone’s breath when the search wasn’t going exactly planned. But it was getting harder with each passing moment. You tried thinking of where that hex bag could be. Everyone was always near the car, there wouldn’t have been a chance for one of the witches to sneak it in. It couldn’t have been hidden underneath the seats. You thought about it for a moment before you glanced down at your jacket. It was lying on the pavement after someone discarded it when they felt the pockets were empty. But you remembered how you lost your loves this morning, one of Amanda’s friends had returned it to you as a nice gesture. Either this was a prank gone bad, or someone wanted you dead.

“I can’t find it!”

“Damn it, Sam. Look harder!”

You stumbled away from the car before you dropped yourself roughly to your knees. Ignoring the burning ache inside your chest, you crawled to the jacket, managing to snag it away. You quickly shoved your hand inside the pockets with your lips stretching into a victorious smile, thinking that you were gonna beat this. With shaky hands, you found the gloves, bundled up into a small ball. It took one tug before you pulled them apart, expecting to see the hex bag drop to the ground. But there was nothing there.

“Found it!” Ruby shouted, her arm shooting up in the air with the hex bag loose in her grip. Sam quickly snatched the bag away from the demon as he pulled out a lighter, not wasting any more time before he was setting the object on fire like he’d done for Paul. He dropped it to the ground, letting it slowly burn with the hues of blue catching your attention. With it slowly turning into ashes, you suddenly could feel the grip around your lungs stop as you inhaled the deepest breath you’d managed to get before you were coughing from the sudden rush of cold air. “And here’s just a perfect example of why you need me around. Dean, seems you’re not sharp as you seem.”

You pushed yourself to your feet as you brushed off the gravel that was sticking into the small cracks of your palms. But from what Ruby said last, it made you quickly look up at her with your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Sure, you and her had plan a previous plan of trying to twist around hunts to make your deal work. But you hadn’t spoken to her in weeks, and for the most part, it had dwindled out of your mind for a while. Yet it seemed the demon had a theory where she could make a statement to the oldest Winchester of why she should stick around. You wondered if she was the one who planted the hex bag.

“Shut up, bitch.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He was quickly picking up where he last left off, the colt coming out from hiding as he began to lose his temper again. “Or I swear to God–”

“What?” She questioned the man, egging him on for another arguement. “Clearly you’re losing your touch, Winchester. Maybe you should let me try and save them since you won’t be here to do it anymore. You couldn’t even do it tonight!”

“I said, shut up!”

Before you realized what was going on, you hands pressed themselves against your ears from the booming sound of a gun going off just a few inches from your head. Dean had been standing the closest to you, but with the colt pointed at Ruby. You cracked one eye open to see the night road was empty with the demon nowhere around. Sam had managed to catch his brother before it was too late, as if he still believed Ruby was his winning chance to saving his brother from this deal. You weren’t sure who to trust anymore after what happened.

+ + +

The high-pitched ringing inside your ears is beginning to fade away, but you still can’t help yourself but try and do anything to get your mind off of the noise. Everyone had been nothing but silent during the car ride here. All though you knew it’s just a matter of time until one of them explodes. You hope the argument that is about to disrupt between the brothers happens soon to get it out of the way. It would make the perfect distraction to get your mind away from your small case of tinnitus after Dean shot off a gun just a few inches from your head by accident. Stepping inside the motel room last, you close the door behind as Dean storms forward before he stops in the middle of the room, not sure what to do next. Sam lingers around for a moment, wondering when his brother is going to start the argument. It only takes a second before Dean does the expected.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“What? What the hell was I thinking?”

Dean turned around in his spot to look at his brother straight in the eye, his facial expressions were written with aggression from the blind faith Sam had thrown into a creature their father raised to hate. All they brought was destruction and terror, Ruby was no different from the rest of them. “She’s a demon, Sam, period. All right? They want us dead. We want them dead.”

“Oh, that’s funny. I remember that demon chick in Ohio.” Sam says, bringing up a familiar incident that happened not too long ago during a hunt. You and Dean had been trapped in her basement until Sam had came to the rescue. While talking to her, the both of you learned that she didn’t mean harm. She just wanted to enjoy the freedom. “Casey—you didn’t want her dead.”

“Well, she wasn’t stringing me along like a fish on a hook.” Dean argued back, a slight smirk came across his lips from the younger man’s attempt at trying to even the score. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over to the motel bed he’d been crashing on since arriving.

“No one’s stringing me along!” Sam yelled out, his frustration getting the best of him. You raised your eyebrows from his words as Dean turned around, giving his brother a glare, knowing the younger man had done nothing but put Ruby on a pedestal. “Look, I know it’s dangerous—that she is dangerous—but like it or not, she’s useful.”

“No! We kill her before she kills us.” Dean ordered at his brother, still standing his ground.

“Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?” Sam asked with a snarky tone. Dean only threw his arms open and shrugged his shoulders from the suggestion, seeming to go with anything that would get the demon out of his hair. “Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives.” His brother rolled his eyes, brushing off everything as he headed for the bathroom, Sam still followed behind to continue his thought. “Look, we have to start looking at the big picture, guys. Start thinking in strategies. And moves ahead. It’s not so simple. We’re not just hunting anymore. We’re at war.”

You crossed your arms over your chest from the dreaded thought which had been lingering around since opening the devil’s gates. There had been somethin bad lingering around, more than either one of you could handle. Dean grabbed a checkered cloth from the sink and patted his face before dropping it back down after splashing some water on his face. He stepped into the doorway of the bathroom as he gave his brother a concerned look. “Are you feeling okay?” He asked. But you could tell from the tone of his voice that he was still angry.

Sam let out a frustrated groan from the question he’d been hearing way too many times lately when he brought this topic up. Rolling his eyes, the man dropped his body to the edge of the motel bed. “Why are you always asking me that?” He asked his brother with annoyance.

“Because you’re taking advice from a demon, Sam,” His brother said. “for starters.”

“And, by the way,” You spoke up for the first time since arriving back, cutting off the oldest Winchester before he could argue more about this topic. “You seem less and less worried about killing people. It used to eat you up inside. We’re just worried about you, Sam.”

“And what has that gotten me?” Sam questioned you, waiting for a response.

You rolled your eyes, not wanting to drag yourself farther into this argument as you glanced over at Dean, wondering what his response was going to be on this one. The man seemed thrown off from the attention that was shifted his way. His hand slipped from his stomach he was rubbing subconsciously as he began speaking again. “Nothing,” He admitted. “But it’s just what you’re supposed to do, okay? We’re supposed to drive in the freaking car and freaking argue about this stuff! You go on about all this sanctity of life and all that crap.”

“Wait,” Sam stopped for a moment with the smallest smile spreading across his lips from what his brother said. “So you’re mad at me because I’m starting to agree with you?”

“No, I’m not mad! I'm—I’m worried.” Dean said, walking forward to the other bed as he sat down on the edge, horizontal to where his brother was. “Sam, we’re worried because you’re not acting like yourself.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m not.” Sam agreed in a somber tone. “I don’t have a choice.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Dean, you’re leaving, right? Y/N and I got to stay here in this crap hole of a world…alone. So, the way I see it, if we’re gonna make it, if we’re gonna fight this war after you’re gone, then I got to change for the good.” Sam admitted, you gave him a softened expressions as you edged him on to what he was talking about. He glanced over at you for a moment from what he said next. “I can’t expect you to be the strong one all the time, Y/N. I gotta change—into you, Dean. I got to be more like you.”

You opened your mouth to try and ease the tension between the brothers into something less heavy from the dreaded topic of the oldest man’s departure that was creeping soon. But before a single word came out, your gaze was lingering to the man when you heard him let out the faintest groan of pain. He was leaning over with one hand pressed against his stomach, his fingers was fisting the fabric into a tight ball, holding it so tight his skin was turning a pale white. “Dean,” You called out the man’s name in a concerned tone. “What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know.” Dean groaned out, his facial expressions scrunched up as he tried speaking the pain shooting through his lower body. You looked over at Sam with a sense of worry growing stronger as the man shifted around in his seat. “Guys, something’s wrong. A bunch of knives inside of me.” You and Sam didn’t waste anytime before the both of you were rushing over to the man as he began groaning in the worst way. You said his name, hoping he could explain what was going on. “Son of a bitch. The coven, man. It’s got to be the coven.”

Your face drained from color as you glanced over at Sam for a quick warning look for him to start tearing this place apart to look for the hex bag. You were about to join the hunt, but you could feel Dean reach out and grab ahold of your arms, needing someone by his side to help him ease the pain. It didn’t take much thought before you were dropping down to his side on the bed. As another wash of pain rushed through Dean’s body, his grip around your arms tightened, threatening you to spill out a noise of your own, but you forced yourself to transform the noise into words that might help him.

“It’s okay.” You mumble, easing him down to a lying position, hoping that would help stop the pain by even the slightest. But it seemed to have only made things worse for the man. He quickly shot up in bed, his hands taken away from your arms as he was stumbling forward. Dean coughed a few times before he went tumbling to the ground, landing on his knees before he was kneeling on the ground. When you leaned forward, your eyes caught sight of the crimson blood that stained the floor. “Oh, God—Sam! Sam! He’s getting worse!”

You looked over your shoulder, taking your gaze off Dean who was on all fours and coughing up blood, to look over at Sam. He pulled out a pocket knife and cut a long hole into the mattress, hoping the hex bag would be hidden in there. But you could feel the panic resting inside your gut growing worse. “Y/N, I can’t find it!” The younger Winchester admitted.

No. No, this wasn’t happening. You weren’t going to let this demon win. Without much of a second thought, you were pushing yourself off the mattress and dropped to your knees. You reached out an arm and snatched the duffel bag across the floor, dragging it until you had it right in front of you. You shoved aside clothes until you found the colt buried in the bottom, still loaded with at least two bullets. It wasn’t a lot, but you’d been getting better with your aim to go for a kill shot. Glancing up, you saw the keys to the Impala were sitting at the table. You pushed yourself to your feet and walked forward, snatching them into your palm.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Dean managed to ask, somehow managing to work through the pain as he rolled around to his backside, wondering why you’d left him. Through the blurry vision, he made out your figure. You were ignoring his questions as you raced to the door, leaving the brothers alone so you could face this demon for them. “Y/N!”

+ + +

Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. Maybe it was seeing Dean lying on the floor, coughing up blood and Sam looking so fearful from the thought of his losing his brother was the reason why you were sitting in the front seat of the Impala. You had enough. You were so sick and tired of people dying just to keep someone alive. John selling his soul to save his oldest son. Then, like a domino effect running through the family, Dean was next to save his little brother. Of course, you marched right into the mess after you dodged the one chance to bring Sam back alive. The one thing you could have done to save all of you from this mess, and you blew it. Maybe that was the reason behind facing a demon alone. It was time for you to help save the day instead of throwing yourself into danger just to solve a problem when it ended in death.

You were scared. After tonight, be so close to dying, and then seeing Dean lying on the floor as he coughed up all that blood, it triggered something inside of you. The brave face you’ve been putting on was slowly crumbling down. Of course you didn’t want Dean to end up in Hell. But deep down, you didn’t want to go, either. You didn’t want to end up like your parents–spending eternity to all damnation, being tortured by demons and facing a nightmare that would never end. You didn’t know what you had in store for someone like you. But all the talk and threats from the demons you came across–you didn’t want to find out. You didn’t want to become like them.

You pulled up to the neighborhood where the ladies lived and parked in the driveway of Renee’s house, seeming to notice the unusual amount of cars parked around. Even though there were no lights on in her house, you had a feeling you would find the coven here. You killed the engine and grabbed the colt from the passenger side before stepping out of the car. Concealing the gun with your jacket, you eyed the quiet neighborhood as you headed forward to the front door. Looking around, you turned sidewards to the door as you cautiously examined around the neighborhood. When the coast was clear from any wandering eyes, you elbowed the glass window and shattered it into pieces, giving you enough room. Ignoring the sharp sides, you dipped a hand into the window and unlocked the door, letting it swing open.

The sounds of terrified screams filled the air as you forced your way inside. You positioned the colt in front of you with your finger on the trigger. You saw the ladies from earlier today had jumped away from their peaceful chants, obviously scared from the madwoman that had just barged her way inside. They all scurried to their feet as their hands shot up into the air, admitting defeat of whatever you were here for.

“Let him go.” You ordered at them, knowing well enough from your research that they had been conducting a ritual.

“Let who go? What are you doing?” Renee questioned you. “You’re insane. Get out!”

“Look, bitch, if you know about me, then you know about this gun.” You said to the woman, you nodded your head to the colt. “You’re killing Dean. Now let him go. Get away from the altar.”


“Now!” You screamed at them, showing them you weren’t playing around. Like a bunch of scared children, you watched as each of them scurried to the fireplace as you nodded your head for them to line up. But you weren’t exactly fooled by their tears and panicked faces. For all you knew, they were all possessed. “Go.”

“W-W-We weren’t hurting anyone.” Elizabeth tried explaining, but she stuttered out an excuse.

“Please,” Renee pleaded with you. “We don’t even know a man named Dean.”

You scoffed at her attempts of trying to weasel her way out of this, “Stop the spell or die.” You ordered to her. “You have five seconds.”

“What?!” Renee squeaked out.

Reaching your thumb upwards to the safety, you pushed backwards as the sound of it locking into place echoed through the tension filled air. You looked at her again. “Four.”

“No, please.” Renee begged, her words rushing out as she pleaded. “Please don’t kill us.”

“We were just getting Renee a lower mortgage rate.” Elizabeth blurted out an excuse.

Your eyebrows furrowed from what the woman had said, making you thrown off for a moment, not expecting how they were spending their Saturday night. Maybe she was telling the truth. It would seem to have fit the pattern between everything that followed when they practiced. Perhaps each of them just wanted materialistic things in life. And how Elizabeth acted before, all jumpy and scared, you had a feeling she really wasn’t faking it. “Okay, maybe it’s not you…or you, Mrs. Van Allen.” You said, slowly pointing the barrel at the blonde. Even though it would feel good just to scare her, you didn’t have enough bullets and there was still one suspect left to cross off the list. Your direction of eyesight lingered toward Tammi, the gun followed behind. “Maybe it’s you.”

“I-I don’t even know what she’s talking about.” Tammi said, her facial expressions washed over with another rush of anxiety from the sudden attention fixated on her. But you weren’t falling for her little act. The more you thought about it, the more you were beginning to realize it was her. “I don’t understand. What are you even talking about?”

“All of you—everyone in your little coven. You’ve all had runs of good fortune, newsworthy good fortune. Except for you, Tammi.” You said, your eyes narrowing at the woman. “Now, tell me, why is that? You didn’t want anything for yourself, or is it because you’re already getting what you wanted, like these women’s souls?”

“I can't—I’m not—I-I-I don’t…” Tammi stuttered out an excuse, all though she trailed off when you looked at her with a cold glare. She knew well enough her entire cover was blown when nobody was jumping to her defense. Or maybe it was because the demon was tired of playing nice. Your grip around the colt tightened when you saw a familiar pair of inky black eyes staring at you. She let out a sigh of annoyance as her hands dropped to her side. “Nice dick work, Nancy Drew.”

“I’ll say it one more time, bitch.” You said, your voice dropping to a lower tone. "Let. Dean. Go.”

“What’s wrong? Couldn’t find my hex bag this time? To be honest, I hope I didn’t have to use the second one on Dean. I though the guilt would eat him up enough inside to kill himself. But here you are—like a cockroach. You just keep coming back.” The demon said, her lips stretching into a smirk. “Sorry, sweetheart, but your friend’s lungs should be on the floor by now. And when you’re done playing around, your heart is gonna be right next to it after I rip it out of your chest.”

Your lips stretched into the faintest smile from her threat, obviously not afraid from what you were about to do next. Without another thought, you pressed your finger on the trigger, pointing it right at the demon’s heart. The process was always short and sweet—but not this time. All the demon had to do was just lift up her palm, somehow slowing down the bullet until it was just a few inches from her, and in a blink of an eye, you heard the small clink of the brass hitting the floor. You couldn’t help yourself but swallow in fear, knowing well enough your only defense had been ruined. With only one bullet left, you didn’t exactly want to shoot in case she could stop it again before it could hit her. “You’re in a lot of trouble, Y/N.” She said, as if that wasn’t clear enough.

The colt went clattering to the floor after you found yourself flying through the air after the demon flicked her wrist, sending you pinned to the opposite wall from across the room. You roughly hit your head against the drywall and let out a groan of pain. Well, you learned your lesson the hard way. There was no way of running out of this deal or death, was there?

“Tammi,” Elizabeth whispered. “What’s wrong with your eyes?”

The demon blinked, making the black disappear as to show off the natural color of the woman she was possessing. She glanced over at the women, pretending that everything was okay. Renee blinked a few times in astonishment, wondering what was happening. But not even the presence of an unknown monster was going to stop the woman from being in control. “Tammi,” Renee said. She straightened out her shoulders and pretended to act like she was confident enough to get to the bottom of this mess. “What are you doing?”

“Renee,” The demon gave the woman an annoyed glare, “Shut your painted hole.”

“What? I-I will—You can't—” Renee began mumbling out a response, but it seemed she was too taken back from the demon’s offensive words. All though Tammi just rolled her eyes, averting her gaze somewhere else. Renee huffed out a breath, trying her hardest to stand ground. Still, she had no idea what she was up against. “Not in my house, Tammi Benton.”

The demon let out the smallest laugh, all before she lifted up a hand, sending the silent room to be filled with the sounds of bones cracking. You winced at the sight of Renee’s neck roughly twisting itself to the side, all before she dropped to the ground, dead from a broken neck. Elizabeth let out a terrified scream as she pressed her hands against her mouth, stumbling backward, trying her hardest to get away from her friend’s dead body. “Look! You got me!” You called out, dragging the demon’s attention away from Elizabeth, fearful it might do the same to her. “Let the girl go.”

“Wait your turn, young lady. I’m just getting started with you.” The demon said, you swallowed from her passive threat as her eyes wandered over to Elizabeth. You could see the poor woman was curled in the corner with her hands pressed against her mouth, trying her hardest not to let out anymore noises. “Shh. Lizzy, it’s okay.”

“You’re not Tammi.” Elizabeth whispered, flinching when the demon reached up a hand.

“No.” The demon agreed, her fingers touching the woman’s curly locks of hair for a moment. “But I’m wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow.”

“You killed Renee.” Elizabeth whimpered out.

“Renee, Amanda.” The demon said, stepping away from the woman as she listed off her victims from just the past few days. “That’s what happens to witches who get voted off the island.”

“Who are you?” Elizabeth couldn’t help herself but ask.

The demon let out a chuckle, “Funny story, actually. You remember all those dark, demonic forces you prayed to when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?” She questioned the woman, her voice becoming filled with curiosity. Elizabeth shook her head, trying not to believe the dark magic she’d gotten herself into. The demon scoffed as she began to take slow steps to the woman. “What did you think it was? Make-believe, positive thinking, the secret? No. It was me. You sold yourself to me, you pig. And all I had to do was bring one good book to book club, and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass.”

“No. No.” Elizabeth mumbled, shaking her head. “We didn’t know—”

“Oh, yes, you did. You knew every step of the way, and know your ever-living souls are mine.” The demon said with a growing smirk spreading across her lips, Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide from everything that began settling in her mind. Tammi let out a small laugh as she turned herself on her feet, her gaze lingering to you. “Questions, comments? No? Good. Now, Y/N Y/L/N. Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I—we’ve been looking for you and Sam.”

"Get in line, you black-eyed bitch.” You hissed at the creature, brushing off her threats you’d been hearing from almost every demon you’d come across. “I keep hearing Sammy’s supposed to lead some piss-poor demon army. And I’m a pretty big deal among you pathic monsters.”

“Watch your tongue, sweetheart. I would hate to make you bite it off and swallow it.” She threatened, rendering you silent for just a moment so she could finish her thought. “You’re nothing more than scum on the bottom of my heel, Y/N. And that Winchester is not our messiah. We don’t believe in him. There’s a new leader rising in the west. A real leader. That’s the horse to bet on, Y/N, that’s who’s gonna tear this world apart. But the thing is, this demon—it doesn’t like Sam very much. It doesn’t want the competition.”

"So, what’s your grudge against me, then?” You couldn’t help but ask the demon, curious to see what the demons gossiped about. There was so much talk about Sam leading an army, about being the golden child. But here you were, wondering why most of them were chasing you down without a real reason why. “What’s getting everyone’s feathers riled up?”

"Look at you, Y/N–you’re a freakshow attraction. Nobody’s ever heard of a child being born out of a demon deal. But here you come along, like a shiny new toy everyone wanted to play with. And when we heard who the proud parents were, boy, we all were excited.” The demon said. Her hand drops to her side as she lets her fingers weave together, but you’re still pinned against the wall. “But, you see, demons aren’t patient creatures. We waited, but nothing happened. Azazel promised all of us you and Sam would be the golden ticket to help win this war. We really thought you were gonna be special, Y/N. Turns out, you’re nothing.”

You narrowed your eyes at the demon, a nagging voice inside your mind wanted to push more for an answer from what she said. But you pressed your lips together, knowing it was just her way of getting under your skin as she chatted away. “You’re nothing to us, or those boys. You’re just another name on the list of women those Winchesters lost. First it was their Mommy, then Ella and Jess. Of course, they got to see what happened. Too bad Dean’s got gonna be here to see what fun I have planned for you.”

“See what?” You asked, giving into the fearful curiosity.

Her lips curled themselves into a smirk, “I know most demons want you in Hell to see what you’re made of. But me and my friends, we’ve playing a game of who can find you first. It looks like I’m the lucky winner. And you know what I’m gonna do? I’m gonna rip your head off head, shove it on a stick to show our leader. Maybe I was wrong about you crawling back to life. I think you made my night so much more fun.“

+ + +

You feel like a meaningless little fly trapped in a spiderweb; you’re pinned against the wall with no chance of finding your way out of this mess. Your eyes trail away from the demon for a moment when you hear the familiar threats she’d spoken to you ring inside your head. The colt is on the ground where you dropped it after she flung you across the room like a rag doll. She seems to notice where your gaze lingers when she steps forward, taking her foot and kicking away the gun, far enough from your sight as you hear it hit off the corner of a wall before disappearing, officially rendering you defenseless. You glance over at her with a look of frustration coming across in your expressions. The demon’s lips stretch into a grin, only seeming amused from what she’d done.

“Don’t look so glum, Y/N. I promise this time it’ll be quick and painless.” The demon said, her hand starts to lift itself back up from her side as you can feel a sudden pressure starts building up in your chest. As the seconds pass, you can feel it growing worse, whatever she’s doing makes it feel like she’s slowly easing a boulder on your chest, all before dropping it down. You can hear the drywall cracking, or maybe it was a rib, from the foreign weight being shifted down on your body. Elizabeth is curled up in the corner as she watches everything unfold, the demon let out a chuckle when the other woman gasped in surprise at the sudden cracking sounds of the wall. “Well, for me at least. Just make sure to say to Dean for me.“

"Hiya, bitch.” You’re thrown off guard from the sudden voice that you’d thought for a split moment in time you would never hear again. The demon lost her concentration on you for a moment, rendering you free from her bond as you go flying to the floor, dropping to the hardwood floors with a muffled crash. Most of your concentration is trying to find out where the colt is. But when you see that it’s really missing, your mind slowly begins to panic, thinking that you lost it for good. But the thought dies soon after when you hear the distant sound of the safety going off and familiar footsteps of boots treading across the floors. You slowly glance up to see a familiar face coming forward from the corner. It’s Dean, and looking much healthier from the last time you saw him. “You actually thought that little hex bag was gonna kill me?”

“A demon like me can dream, can’t she?” The monster asked, her eyes blinking to an inky shade as her lips stretch into a smirk. She turns her gaze for a moment over to the man, almost pretending not to notice Sam sneaking from behind. But all it takes is one squeaky floorboard to rat him out, and the plan goes down the drain. You wince when you hear the sounds of bodies being thrown against the wall and Elizabeth’s terrified whimpers that follow after. “Well, this just keeps getting better now, doesn’t it? Three for the price of one. I should have known you those boys would come crawling back for you.”

An insult is at the tip of your tongue, threatening to spill out, but your concern right now is getting yourself to your feet. You ignore the small pieces of drywall that litter the floor and prick your palms. You push yourself into a standing position and straighten out your shoulders. If there’s only one way out of this, you need to figure it out before the demon starts having fun and picking off everyone left and right. You open your mouth to try and make a deal with the demon, but the words die at the tip of your tongue when you hear another voice speak up.

“Wait.” You furrowed your eyebrows as you peer over your shoulder, surprised to see that it’s Ruby, and from how her arms are in a defensive position, she’s not here to help save the day in her usual fashion. She wanders inside the home until she’s in the living room where the action is. “Please. I came here to talk.”

“You made it out of the gate.” The demon said, her focus taken away from all of you as her attention focused on her own kind just standing across from her. You watch as her facial expressions harden as her voice begins matching her words. “Impressive. It was a bit of a fight, wasn’t it?”

“Doors out of Hell only open for so long.” Ruby mumbled.

The demon rolled her eyes, ‘What do you want, Ruby?“

"I’ve been lost without you. Take me back. That’s why I led the Winchesters here.” Ruby said, she takes baby steps forward to the demon as she explains everything. You can feel your eyes almost bulging out of your head from the sudden twist of events as your fingers dig themselves into your palm. You feel like an idiot for trusting her, and without much realization, your head slowly turns to Sam with a hardening glare stretching across your face. “They’re for you, as a gift.”

“Really?” The demon asked, seeming intrigued from this little twist.

“Let me serve you again.” Ruby pleaded. “I’ve wanted it. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

The demon thought about it for a moment as her lips slowly stretched themselves into a small smile, warming up to the idea. “You were one of my best.” She said, almost seeming to believe this speech Ruby was trying to play. Your eyes trailed down for a second when you saw something coming up from Ruby’s side, it was her knife. Maybe you’d been wrong about her. She wasn’t trying to get you all killed, she was really trying to help. When the demon seemed distracted enough, that’s when Ruby made her move. She quickly drew up her arm and swung the knife down, aiming for the demon’s chest. Tammi seemed to have noticed before it was too late. She roughly grabbed a hold of Ruby’s wrist as she let out a sigh of annoyance. “But then again, you always were a lying whore.”

Tammi managed to let the knife go flying across the room, almost thinking Ruby would have been useless without it. But that didn’t stop the woman at all. Both women began fighting, throwing punches and kicks at one another, trying anything to pin each other down. You thought Ruby could win this one on her own from how many punches she manages to squeeze in, but it seemed that was only to gain confidence. The demon managed to gain control of the fight when she stopped playing around. She grabbed a hold of the woman and roughly threw her across the room, making Ruby fall backwards into the TV stand, you wince at the sight of her dropping to the floor from the impact.

All though it’s only for a second before she tries to get up again, wanting to win this fight once and for all. But the demon doesn’t seem afraid of grabbing a hold of the woman and throwing her around again, this time, it’s into a bookshelf. Ruby goes down for good, the blow hard enough to knock the wind out of her. It takes a second before you notice the knife isn’t that far from where you’re standing. You take the opportunity and squeeze yourself into the fight. You’re not afraid when you see that the demon sets her attention on Elizabeth, almost making you believe that she would take the opportunity to hurt her. You’re swift in your movements as you snatch the knife before the demon can notice. Your fingers squeeze themselves around the foreign handle as you lock eyes with the demon. Her lips stretched into an amused smile at the sight of you.

Just as you’re about to make your move, there’s a sudden scratching pain that starts crawling up your arm. You try and ignore it, but with each move you make, it gets worse and worse, before there’s a particular one that makes you lose your grip on the knife as it tumbles to the floor with a loud clank. It feels like something is scratching and ripping at your skin. You can feel your breathing becoming heavier as you force yourself to look down at your body, a sense of panic begins to set in when you see all sorts of red blotches appearing on your clothes. The demon takes her attention off Elizabeth as she walks over to you. You try and take a step backwards, but a sudden cut mark on your lower calf that makes you lose your footing and stumble backwards to the floor. You swallow as the demon squats down. She roughly takes a hold of your wrist and pulls up your sleeve, showing off the bloody mess of scratch marks littered on your skin.

“I really wanted to like you, Y/N. There was so much hope for you to become something great. So much hype buzzing around your name.” The demon said, her voice dropping to a whisper as her eyes lingered upward to the boys for a moment. “Then you make that little deal, dwindled yourself into nothing. You let them cut you into tiny little pieces, taking each blow as if you’re waiting for the right one to hit an artery. But I guess I can’t expect anything more from someone who was made out of a demon deal. Nothing good comes from them, right? I mean, Mommy didn’t
want you. She used you for her own personal gain. And you letting those Winchesters do the exact same thing because it’s all you really know. You’re leading yourself to a death of a thousand cuts.”

“Shut up.” You hissed at her. “Just—”

“You know, it was a real practice of execution back in the day. They used to call it ling chi for people who murdered their parents. Suiting for you, isn’t it? You see, they would tie up the criminal and take a nice, sharp knife.” The demon explained, one of her hands reached out to grab the knife you’d dropped. You could feel your body tightened from fear as she drew the knife close to your skin, but just lightly placed the blade against it. “The process could take hours. Most of the time someone died just after a dozen cuts. But you, Y/N, you’re gonna feel every single one. I’m gonna make sure you and Ruby know what pathetic things you turned yourselves into.”

“Right. Because you’re such a picture perfect demon. At least with Ruby she isn’t causing trouble, she’s trying to help us.” You said to the demon. “If she somehow can have a bit of humanity inside her, who’s to say there’s not more like her out there?”

The demon let out the faintest laughter from what you’d said. She looked over her shoulder as her eyes dropped to Ruby, who’d been lying on the floor. “She didn’t tell you? Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago. Ruby here was a witch.” She said. You can hear the clatter of the knife drop to the ground as the demon’s attention slips away from you. She gets up and heads toward Ruby, who is now forcing herself into a sitting up position. “Of course, that was when you were human.”

You wanted to believe that you weren’t panicking from hearing the news. That would have been a perfectly good lie you’d love to believe in right now. “Oh, you didn’t want your friends to know that all those centuries back, you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess.” The demon mumbled, pretending to be sorry. “But don’t worry, love. No secrets where you’re heading, remember?”

Your eyes trailed over to Elizabeth when you saw her moving from the corner of your eye. She was heading for the altar, trying to find something that would somehow get this demon out of your hair. She dropped herself down to a crouch as she looks for something, but you can see a panic wash over her facial expressions when she caught sight of what she needed. You turned your head to see that there was a small wooden bowl just across from where you were sitting. The demon had her back turned to everyone, her attention caught up in performing an exorcism to get Ruby back where she belonged. You glanced back at the bowl and sucked in a deep breath, knowing this was gonna hurt, but it might be your only chance at getting out alive.

You cradle the arm that hurts the most as you steady your palm against the floor, quietly crawling until you reach out the free hand and grabbed a hold of it. You peek inside to see that it’s a bunch of pins use for sewing fabric. You head forward, thankful at least there are no new cuts that pop up. Elizabeth closes her eyes and begins a ritual, learning what she used from the demon to her advantage. You spill the contents onto the coffee table, just in time, because the next thing you know the exorcism has stopped. The demon started coughing and choking, she reached out a palm to spit out the needles. You know it’s working when Ruby returns to her normal self and the boys fall to the ground with a heavy thump. All though not everything seems perfect when the demon realizes who’s in charge of it all. Elizabeth’s chants stop at a sudden halt when the demon made a tight fit, crushing the woman’s throat, all before you watched as Elizabeth dropped face first onto the table, dead before she even touched the wood.

Curse words fill your thoughts when you see that the plan was foiled, but it’s the least of your worries when you peer over your shoulder after the sound of footsteps slowly begin to approach you from behind. You slowly peer over your shoulder to see that the demon’s mouth was stained with blood, but the little trick didn’t wound her enough. She was coming forward with a fire iron she snatched from the fireplace, and with the look in her eye, she was in the mood for a little practice. You flinched when the last thing you saw was her swinging up the iron rod into the air, expecting a blow to the head at any moment. But it’s the sudden clatter of iron to the floor that makes you open your eyes, wondering what made her stop.

Dean snuck up from behind on the woman, managing to grab a hold of the knife from the floor. You watch as he stabbed the demon in the lower back, all before he pulls out the knife again and repeatedly does the action again and again, as if he’s letting out all of his aggression before the body drops to the ground. You let out a deep breath from everything that had unfolded, your eyes stuck on the dead body before you feel the effects of tonight’s events settle on your body. It’s a pain to get yourself up, but you manage to do it with the help of Dean, who tries his hardest not to touch any fresh wounds as Sam ventures over.

You look around at the mess you all created; dead bodies were sprawled across the floor with broken furniture to match. You’re beginning to wonder how you’re going to clean up, but that is, until Ruby speaks up after getting herself to her feet. "Go.” She whispers. You watch as she takes her hand and wipes away the blood from her nose. “I’ll clean up this mess.”

“Come on.” Dean says, breaking you and Sam from your concentration on the demon. You give her one last look before nodding your head, suddenly itching to get out of here before it’s too late. This place gives you the creeps, and it’s just another reminder of everything Yellow Eyes told you before he died. Suddenly you understand his threat about becoming what you hated.

+ + +

It’s not a thousand cuts, but it feels pretty damn close. You can feel your fingers wrapping themselves into the tightest fists you can manage, scrunching up the motel sheets as the damp cloth of peroxide touches your skin again. Out in total, you counted at least a dozen marks spread across your arms, luckily vanishing slowly after Ruby was kind enough to give you something to heal faster. It had been strange to learn that she had been a witch before turning into a demon. But what was strange on top of it all was knowing that demons were once human. They were just like you before they were turned into the monster you hated.

The feeling of Dean running the wet cloth against the deepest mark breaks you out of your concentration. A yelp of pain echos through the motel, but Dean soon shushes you, mumbling something about the neighbor’s calling the cops if they thought the wrong thing. You let out the faintest scoff as your eyes trail over to the part of carpet where you threw your clothes after arriving back. There was nothing there now. Sam had left a half an hour ago to burn the clothes so there was no trace left of what happened tonight, leaving Dean to patch up your wounds. You know this isn’t how the boys wanted to spend their night after a hunt, having to clean up your messes, but they don’t seem to complain about it. Your eyes trail over to the nightstand where you see a needle and thread sitting there, just in case you needed stitches. So far, Dean had said you were healing nicely.

“Hey, Dean.” You mumbled, breaking the silence that engulfed the room for a long period of time. Dean hummed something as he reached out a hand to put the top back on the bottle. You look over your shoulder to stare at him. He stops what he’s doing to give you a concerned look, wondering what crossed your mind. “I’m sorry for running off like that. I’m sorry for making everything so messy all the time. I guess—I’m sorry for everything.”

Dean falls silent for another few moments, you can see he’s trying to find something to change the subject like always. He hates discussing anything that has to do with the deals that are coming to a closure. But he can feel your eyes lingering on him, just waiting for him to respond. It takes a long, drawn out sigh before he looks up at you, admitting something you weren’t expecting to hear from a man like Dean. "I should be the one apologizing, Y/N. Ruby was right back there. I’m leaving you and Sammy alone to face God knows whatever that’s coming.” He admits what had been weighing on his mind mind for months. “You know, I don’t wanna really wanna go, but I have to. It’s the right thing to do.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in anger when you hear him talking like this. “There’s ways to—”

“Stop it? The only way I know how and that’s you dying. Sure, I’ll be the first one to admit I’m a selfish bastard. But I’m not that selfish, Y/N. You’re not gonna clean up my mess again.” He said. You can his voice starts off strong, but it dwindles down to a whispered tone as he continues talking. “I mean, I can’t bare the thought of you going down there. It makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.”

"Please, I’m the poster child for a reason to go down there. I’m not exactly innocent.” You said, rolling your eyes. He looks at you with a solemn expression, not amused from your words. “Fine. Just give me one good reason why I should let you go to hell. What reason is good enough for you to leave me and Sam alone?“

"Because you’re too good for it, that’s why.” His answers you, but the response isn’t what you expected. Dean’s eyes trail away from you as he continues working on your wounds, he grabs a large band aid from the bed as he rips open the package. “I never really told you this, and it might sound creepy, but—I feel like you’re my last piece of normality I can hold onto. I mean, sure, Sam reminds me to do to the right thing when we’re hunting. But you, Y/N, you’re the reason that keeps me sane when I see the worst out there. You always were that for me.”

The faintest color of pink spreads across his cheeks as he avoids eye contact with you, he takes off the paper sides and slowly reaches out his hand to place the gauze on your upper arm. “I guess that’s why my dad went crazy. Mom was his anchor before she died. I was hard on Sam, but now I understand why he loved Jess so much. They were the one piece of happiness they clung to before Yellow Eyes took it away from them. They’re dead because of that son of a bitch. And I don’t want to follow down that path, Y/N. I just can’t.”

Your facial expressions softened when you see everything that had been on his mind has come out. His eyes were now staring at you head on, and from seeing how vulnerable he put himself out there. Dean might come across like a tough man, he proved himself when he attacked the demon in a fashion that was almost too violent for his style. But now you were beginning to understand why he did it. He was gonna do everything in his power to make sure you didn’t up in Hell. He wanted to protect you in a way that his father couldn’t for Mary.

+ + +

Sam arrived back from his duties not too long after that. You and Dean dropped the conversation quickly after when the motel door swung open. It felt weird to express his emotions like that, but it sort of felt freeing in a way, too. All though Dean excused himself, knowing it wasn’t his style to stick around and face the awkward air. He traveled around for a little while, hoping that when he came back everything would feel back to normal. But that was until he stumbled upon Ruby during his travels. He tried getting her words out of his head, but they kept buzzing around his head.

“The answer is yes, by the way. Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later, Hell will burn away your humanity. Every hell-bound soul, everyone, turns into something else. Turns you into us, so, yeah—yeah, you can count on it.”

There was no saving him from Hell. Ruby lied to his brother. It was all a ploy for Sam to trust Ruby so she could prepare him for what’s to come. Dean roughly slammed the car door shut as he reached a hand inside his pocket to lock up the Impala. All he wanted to do was forget about tonight, pretend like nothing happened. He shoved his hands inside his pockets and headed forward to the motel room, suddenly itching to go to sleep. Dean headed forward to the motel, hoping his brother was sleeping. When he peeked inside the window, he was happy to see there were no lights on. He unlocked the door and quietly stepped inside, the street lights from outside cascaded just enough light to let him peek inside. He could feel his stomach twisting itself into knots when he saw you peacefully sleeping.

“You can’t save her, Dean. Try all you want, but it’s inevitable. It could be tomorrow or fifteen years down the road—but she’s still going to hell. She’s gonna turn into one of us. And the process might not take as long as it would for you and me. So if you want to blame someone—blame that mother of hers. She gave Azazel the bright idea to make her daughter a monster.“

Dean glanced over at his bother, noticing the both of you had passed out, probably from tonight’s adventures. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his jacket, knowing he might not get a lot of sleep, but he didn’t really care. After what he heard from Ruby, sleep seemed like a distant memory. Dean headed forward to you, wondering how you were sleeping. He pulled the blankets you must have kicked off during your slumber and laid them over your body. When he felt like everything was okay, he let out a quiet breath before walked over the lumpy couch across the room. Without much more thought, he rested his aching body on the furniture and closed his eyes, praying that he could find a way out of this mess before it was too late.

Chapter Text

“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you.
Three, four, better lock your door.
Five, six, grab a crucifix.”

There were voices echoing through the motel room, but you knew one of them wasn’t yours. You recognized them as childlike as they sung a familiar and chilling tune. You could feel yourself lying in bed with your back pressed against the mattress. Part of you knew were wide awake, but you still had your eyes closed with your vision engulfed in darkness. Something was wrong, you knew that much. You couldn’t move your body, no matter how hard you tried. All though if you concentrated enough, you wiggled your toes just the slightest before your body froze like a statue. Nothing coherent came out of your mouth, only muffled words that even you couldn’t understand.

It felt like forever just lying there in the motel bed, wondering how you were gonna get out of this. What if you couldn’t? You were alone for God knows how long. The last time you’d gotten like this, someone woke you up. But the boys didn’t like bugging you when you were in a mood. Suddenly you hated the past memory of snapping at them because you were so tired, stressed about everything. And for your bad attitude, you could be stuck like this for God knows how long. You could feel your breathing becoming heavier when a terrifying thought crossed your mind. What if this wasn’t the same thing? What if something was doing this to you?

“Seven, eight, gonna stay up late.
Nine, ten, never gonna sleep again…”

Your eyelids popped open when you felt the vibrations of your neighbor from next door roughly slam their motel door shut, rendering you free from the sleeping spell. You let out a sigh of relief when you realized you had full control of your body again. Nobody was trying to kill you. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position on the bed as a hand rested on your neck, tending to the aching muscles from the awkward sleeping position. The TV was still on with the volume at medium level. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion when you saw the final few minutes of the movie “A Nightmare on Elm Street” play out before rolling to credits. That explained why you were hearing children singing that creepy song. You had been watching TV last night when you gave up on sleeping after tossing and turning until three in the morning. Some cheesy romantic comedy distracted you until you must have finally fallen asleep halfway through the flick.

You wondered why the station was playing a horror movie in the morning, usually it was either reruns of old shows or infomercials. But as you glanced down at the clock, your lips stretched into a frown from the time: 11:26 A.M. Your hand that was rubbing your neck dropped to your lap when you saw the amount of sleep you’d managed to squeeze in. This was something you hadn’t been able to do since you started hunting with the boys. Normally it was research that kept you up all night, or the occasional nightmare about your parents. But ever since the hunt in Massachusetts, what Dean had confessed to you, they’ve been growing worse over the past few days. You needed something to distract yourself from everything that was going on.

You glanced over at the TV screen when an advertisement for “Jaws” came up for the next move that was about to play. You let out a scoff, grabbing the remote from underneath your leg and quickly shut it off, the screen went black.

+ + +

Staying in the motel, isolated from people with four walls to occupy your buzzing thoughts wasn’t exactly a good idea for you right now. And dealing with the brothers in your state of mind wasn’t an option you wanted to pick. So, you got dressed and ventured out into town, wandering around until you found a local bar occupied with at least a half dozen full of people day drinking. This wasn’t your type of crowd, nor were you an avid drinker. It was five o'clock somewhere and you had a reason to drink your problems away. You headed up to the bar, grabbed yourself a stool and ordered the cheapest whisky they had to pass the time. In the end you might have ended up alone, but you had conversations you could eavesdrop on to concentrate your problems on something else. Anything to make you feel the slightest bit normal today.

An hour or so passed when you ordered another round after finishing up your drink. You’d gotten wrapped up in hearing about a woman who was sobbing in the corner with her friend. You glanced over your shoulder to see that she was dressed in a cheap suit with mascara running down her cheeks. Her friend must have been a co worker from the similar formal outfits each of them wore as they enjoyed a liquid lunch to celebrate the fact Crying Girl had been fired and found her boyfriend had been cheating on her all in same day. If only your life could have been that simple. But before you could dwindle more on your self-loathing, the sound of glass hitting the bartop brought you back into reality.

You looked over to see the bartender placed down another refill without asking. Reaching a hand inside your pocket, you got ready to pull out a few bills to pay for the drink, but you stopped when he shook his head. “On the house.” Was all he managed to say before an older woman was calling for his attention, she swung the empty glass around with a growing grin spread across her lips. She seemed harmless enough, that was, until you caught sight of her shirt design. She was wearing a black shirt with “Cougar” written in bold white letters. You let out the slightest laugh from her appearance that sure wasn’t a lie. You reached out a hand to take a sip of your drink, but before you could even taste the alcohol, a voice coming from behind stopped you.

“Hiya, sweetheart.” You furrowed your eyebrows from confusion, wondering for a split second of how Dean managed to find you so fast. It’d always been one of his habits to call you by that petname, mostly when he was aggravated, or worried about you. But when you looked over your shoulder, your face dropped in disappointment when you saw who it really was. A man, at least fifteen years older than you, was standing over you with an arrogant grin spreading across his lips. He glanced down at the drink you were holding before looking up at you. “I thought you might like a refill. ‘Course it’s mighty strange seeing such a pretty girl like you sitting here all by your lonesome.”

“Yeah.” You muttered underneath your breath. “It’s the Twilight Zone here.”

The man let out a throaty, almost forceful, laugh from what you said, acting as if you had told him a joke. You rolled your eyes and averted your gaze away from him, trying your hardest not to punch the man straight in the face. “Mind if I sit here, darling?” He asked, forcing you to break your concentration away from the wall so you could stare at him. You saw that he was pointing to the stool right across from yours. You blinked, not giving him an answer, hoping he would take the silent cue. Of course, he didn’t. “Or are you waiting for your boyfriend?”

You let out a scoff from the presumption he tried to use for more answers, and while you thought of a proper response to get rid of him, it all went downhill when you felt a hand touch your backside. Nothing was gonna make this guy understand you weren’t interested. You snapped your head forward and opened your mouth, getting ready to set this guy straight, but a familiar voice beat you. “There you are, sweetheart. I thought I lost you.” Like a knight and shining armor, Dean had found you before you could lose your patience. “Hey, thanks for keeping her company. But I got it from here.”

You weren’t expecting for this plan to work, but the man was convinced enough to start slowly backing away as he gave Dean the weakest smile. You glanced upward to see that he might have seemed friendly with that smile, but it was the look in his eye that was making the man uncomfortable to linger around. You watched from the corner of your eye as Crying Girl became his next victim. You let out sigh of relief and out of victory, you took a sip of your free refill. Dean stepped backward when he saw the coast was clear. His gaze drifted from the man and onto a sight that he wasn’t expecting to see from someone like you. “What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He couldn’t help himself but ask. You shrugged your shoulders. “Sam and I are worried about you. Are you feeling okay?”

"Peachy.” You lied to him. Lifting up the whiskey to inspect the color, you twirled it around before lifting to to your lips. “Just having a drink.”

“It’s two in the afternoon.” Dean said as he glanced over at the clock, all before he realized what you were having. “Drinking whiskey?“

You shrugged your shoulders, not seeing what the big deal was. "I drink whiskey all the time.”

“No, you don’t.” Dean corrected you.

You brushed off his concerns as you took the drink like a shot, downing everything all in just one gulp. You slammed the cup down and looked up at him. Dean didn’t seem impressed. He kept staring at you with the worried look in his eyes that was beginning to make you grow aggravated. “You hit on chicks all the time. Why can’t I have a little fun?” You questioned the man. “I never get to have fun.”

That seemed to have made him snap out of his mood when you heard a laugh escape his lips. He looked over his shoulder to see most of the people around here aren't exactly your age, let alone, attractive. And the man who had been previously giving you attention had all forgotten about you now. He was sitting with Crying Girl with an arm draped over his shoulder and speaking sweet nothings that was making her sobbing into a minimum. “It’s kind of slim picking around here.” He said, you rolled your eyes. “What’s going on with you, Y/N?”

You looked away from the man, knowing the exact answer you wanted to tell him. But you kept yourself silent for the longest time, until something came out. “I tried your way. Ruby’s way. Hell, even my way. And nothing seems to be working.” You muttered, but that didn’t seem to answer his question. It only gave him more curiosity to wonder why you were acting like this. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea for you to down the whiskey like that. “I tried, Dean.”

“To do what?” Dean asked, his voice dropping to a whisper so nobody else could hear them.

Your lips stretched into the faintest frown from what you were about to say next. “To save you.”

Dean let out the faintest sigh from what you had mentioned, knowing very well alcohol and guilt don’t always mix well in the end. He pulled up the stool next to yours and took a seat, having a feeling you two were gonna be here for a while. The bartender seemed to have taken notice of him when Dean waved up a hand to order. “Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat.”

“I’m serious, Dean.” You said, forcing yourself to look at him.

“No,” He said. “You’re drunk.”

You snorted from his accusation as you glanced down at your empty drink. You might have been a lot of things, but being a light weight sure wasn’t one of them. If he could have been honest about everything, it was time you were, too. You and him have seen each other at their worst. “I mean, where you’re going, Dean, what you’re gonna become.” You said, your voice lowered itself as you almost hissed out the words. “You always have been there for me. And when I try to help, no matter how many times, it won’t work. I mean, even Ruby’s been trying to help. But I’m starting to think she can’t stop it.” The bartender came over, dropping down another refill for you and Dean’s order. When he took your cup away, you quickly grabbed it, taking another sip. “But, really, the thing is, no one can save you.”

Dean let out a quiet sigh, “That’s what I’ve been telling you and Sammy.”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don’t
to be saved. I mean, how can you care so little about yourself?” You asked, swallowing your drink as you put the half empty cup to the bartop. Maybe you were feeling a bit tipsy from the whiskey. “Look at me. The girl who,” You quieted your tone when you saw someone’s lingering eyes before they looked over at something else. “I’m the girl who killed her parents. I destroy everything I touch. But you, Dean, you don’t deserve any of this. What’s wrong with you?”

Dean was thrown off from your question, not sure if you really wanted an answer. But you shook your head, grabbing the glass and taking another sip, flinching at the burning sensation you weren’t used to. All though the conversations seemed to have taken a halt when his phone began to ring. He shoved a hand inside his pocket and pulled out his cell phone before answering. “Hello? Yes—Yes, this is Mr. Snyderson.” He said, pretending to go along with the conversation, but as it furthered, everything turned for the worst. “What? Where?”

You eyebrows furrowed when you heard Dean speaking to someone, and from the concerned look coming across his facial expressions, you had a feeling it wasn’t good news. When the wrapped up the conversation and shut his phone, you quickly asked, “What was that about?”

“It’s Bobby,” Dean whispered, “He’s in the ICU.”

+ + +

The news shook you to your very core in fear. You knew how much Bobby had meant to the boys, he was like their surrogate father after spending so many years when John was off on the road hunting. And it would be a complete lie to say you and Bobby hadn’t grown closer through the years. He’d known your mother since her teens and told you stories about things you asked him about. For a man like Bobby, an older hunter that had seen a lot of evil, he never once treated you any differently from the boys. It was always the same stern lectures about staying safe when you and the brothers. visited. And fatherly like behavior that made it so easy to open up to him. So it was easy to become frustrated with anger when you stood in his hospital room, lying in bed with no explanation of how he got like this.

“So, what’s the diagnosis?” Sam asked the doctor.

“We’ve tested everything we can think to test.” The doctor said, the clipboard of Bobby’s results tucked underneath his arms. “He seems perfectly healthy.”

“Except that he’s comatose.” Dean pointed out, his voice growing harder.

“Mr. Snyderson, you’re his emergency contact.” The doctor began, understanding the reaction from Dean. He had hoped the man could bring up some information that would shine a light on what was going on here. “Anything we should know? Any illnesses?”

Dean looked like a deer in headlights from the question as you and Sam looked over at him, wondering if he knew anything more. Unfortunately for man like Bobby, he wasn’t always so informative to you all. “No, he never gets sick.” He admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, he doesn’t even catch a cold.”

“Doctor, is there anything you can do?” Sam asked, hoping he would have a postive news.

“Look, I’m sorry, but we don’t know what’s causing it, so we don’t know how to treat it.” The doctor confessed. You could tell from his expressions that he was empathetic from your reactions, he was upset himself for not being able to help a patient of his. “He just…went to sleep and didn’t wake up.”

+ + +

You and the brothers found out that Bobby had been staying in town for the past few days after checking into a motel. A maid had found him just sleeping in bed without a response, leading you all to where you were know. Maybe there was something in his room that could explain what was going on. Luckily the front desk gave you a key without hesitance. Sam unlocked the door and stepped inside, you and Dean following behind his trail. You peeked around the room to see that everything looked like someone wasn’t even renting this place. The bed was made and there was no traces of baggages anywhere. You wondered why Bobby was here in the first place.

“So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?” You asked. “He doesn’t travel a lot.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said, closing the door behind him before he walked further inside. “Unless he was taking an extremely lame vacation.”

“I mean, he must have been working a job, right?” Sam wondered, shrugging his shoulders.

“Well, you think there’d be some sort of sign of something, you know? Research, newspaper clippings” Dean said, noticing there was absolutely nothing in this room. All of you had taken advantage of the space and used motel as desk offices, burying books all over the place and walls as bulletin boards. But there was nothing. No clothes in the drawers, there was no books to be seen or even a scrap of paper explaining a reason why he was here. “A friggin’ pizza box or a beer can.”

You let out the quietest laugh from overhearing Dean complain about not finding anything. Bobby might have been disorganized at home, but there was a method to his madness. He must have felt comfortable at home to let everything about research linger around the place. But since he was in places that were unknown to him, you would understand if he wanted to keep everything private if someone got the wrong idea. But you just needed to think like him. Where would you hide research without anyone noticing. Your eyes wandered around the room until you saw Sam lingering at the closet, all before opening up the doors and pushing clothes out of the way. Turning on the light, he found exactly what you all were looking for.

“How about this?” Sam asked, nodding his head for you and Dean to follow.

You walked forward to see that Sam had found the jackpot; everything from photographs to research notes about whatever he was hunting. Dean let out a soft chuckle, as if he hadn’t expecting anything less of the man. “Good old Bobby,” Dean muttered. “Always covering up his tracks.”

"Either of you make heads or tails of any of this?” Sam asked, eyeing the information.

You shook your head from the information that didn’t seem to be ringing any bells. Dean reached out a hand to take off a drawing of flowers you’d never seen before. “‘Silene Capensis,’” Dean read off the name on the top of the page. “Which, of course, means absolutely nothing to me.”

“Here—obit.” Sam said, noticing there was a small newspaper clipping sitting in the lower corner. He reached out a hand and ripped it off the wall before bringing it closer him to read. “Dr. Walter Gregg, sixty-four, university neurologist.”

“How’d he bite it?” Dean asked.

Sam skimmed the article for the answer, but his eyebrows furrowed. “Um, actually, they don’t know.” He admitted. “They say he just went to sleep and didn’t wake up.”

“That sound familiar to you?” You asked the boys, glancing over at the information that was tacked on the closet wall. You crossed your arms over your chest and let out a quiet sigh. “So, let’s say Bobby was looking into the doc’s death, you know, hunting after something…”

“That started hunting him.” Dean said, finishing your thought. You nodded your head in agreement. “All right, Sam, stay here. See if you can make heads or tails of this.”

“What are you and Y/N gonna do?” Sam asked.

“We’re gonna look into the good doctor ourselves.”

+ + +

One change of clothes and a quick search for an address, you and Dean were at the University just an hour after leaving the motel, posing as detectives to sneak into the deceased doctor’s office. His T.A. had been around for the afternoon cleaning up papers and finishing up the last of the filing that needed to be done after his untimely passing. She willingly offered to take you to the man’s office after you pretend not to know where it was. You followed behind the woman down the hall until she stopped at one of the last doors on the left. Opening the door, you peeked inside to see that mostly everything was packed up in marked, leaving nothing but a desk and filing cabinet for whoever that would take over after all of the doctor’s work was put into a proper resting place.

“So, you’re Dr. Gregg’s lab assistant?” You asked the woman, stepping inside the office first as you headed to the desk when you noticed there was still books and files lying around. You looked over your shoulder to see that she was looming around the doorway when she nodded her head to answer. “Well, his death must have come as a shock to you.”

“Yeah, it did.” She admitted. “But, still, to go in your sleep, peaceful—it’s what you wish for, right?”

You froze in your spot from what’d she mentioned, suddenly remembering what happened to you the other morning. You swallowed slightly before you looked over at her, giving the woman a small smile. “Dr. Gregg, ” You said, shifting the conversation to something else. You found one of his published books that was lying on his desk before you picked it up to show her. “Studied sleeping disorders? Dreams?”

“I don’t understand.” She said, shaking her head. “I went over all of this with the other detective.”

You and Dean looked over at one another for a second, wondering who she might have been speaking about. “You already spoke to another detective?” Dean asked the woman.

“Yes,” She answered. “A very nice older man with a beard.”

“Well,” Dean said, obviously knowing that one man like Bobby could fit that description. If he had been poking his nose around here, maybe you all could figure out what happened to him. “We’d love to hear it again, if you don’t mind.”

“Yeah. But the thing is, I’m sort of busy.” The assistant said, giving an apologetic smile. “Maybe we could do it later?”

“Sure. Yeah.” You said, nodding your head as you played along until you changed your tune. You narrowed your eyes at her and changed in the authority you were pretending to be. A few white lies weren’t going to hurt, hell, they were gonna help find out what happened to Bobby. “We’ll just bring you down to the station later this afternoon and get your statement on tape, do it all official-like. It’s whatever you choose to be more convenient, ma'am.”

You watched as the assistant nervously swallowed from the ultimatum you’d given her. She looked around the room for a few moments before bringing her attention back to the two of you, giving you all information you weren’t expecting to find. “Look, okay, I didn’t know about Dr. Gregg’s experiments,” She admitted. “Not until I was cleaning out his files.”

"His experiments,” Dean said, connecting the dots. “The ones he was conducting on sleep?”

“No one knew, okay? Not the university, not anybody.” She explained, her tone was becoming defensive as she continued. Whatever this doctor was doing, you were suspecting it wasn’t pretty or morally right. She crossed her arms over her chest and pointed up her chin. “I already spoke with a lawyer, and he told me that I can’t be held liable for anything.”

“Maybe you couldn’t,” Dean said, you looked over at him, wondering what he was going to say in order to keep everything running smoothly. It might have been a bumpy start, but he managed to pull through with a believable lie. “But that was before new evidence came to light.”

“We’re not at liberty to say.” You said, hoping that would stop her from becoming suspicious.

She rolled her eyes as a quiet sigh escaped her lips from the sudden turn of events. “Look, I’m just a grad student.” She tried explaining. “This was a gig to cover tuition.”

“Maybe so, but still, this, this,” Dean tried coming up with an excuse, but the way that he was trailing off and slowly looking over at you for help was beginning to make you grow a bit nervous that you’d have to step in. Luckily before this could blow up in your face, he got an idea. “This could go on your permanent record. Unless you hand over the doctor’s research to us—all of it.”

+ + +

The research had been mostly information that you couldn’t quite understand from just skimming through the work. All though there was one piece of information in particular that had caught your attention, a list of participants for the sleep study. Luckily there was only half a dozen people he’d signed on to do the little experiment. You and Dean had four people down, there was about two more to go before you and him would head back to the hospital. You knocked a few times on the dormroom of a student named Jeremy Frost. It was a few moments before you saw the door open to reveal the man himself, and he looked a bit startled to see two police badges being waved around in face. And from what he was babbling on about, he thought it was for a whole other reason.

“Look, I don’t know what the R.A, said,"Jeremy tried explaining, opening the door as he allowed you and Dean inside his dorm room. You couldn’t help yourself but let out the quietest chuckle from what he was getting at. "But, uh, I was growing ferns.”

“Take it easy, Phish.” Dean chuckled out from the man’s paranoia. “That’s not why we’re here.”

“Really?” Jeremey asked with surprise, you nodded your head. “Oh, thank God. Okay.”

“Actually,” You spoke up, “we want to talk to you about Dr. Gregg’s sleep study.”

“Yeah. Dr. Gregg just died, right?”

“You were one of his test subjects, right?”

Jeremy nodded his head at your answer. You watched for a moment as he walked over to the mini fridge, opening up the door to grab something from the inside. You took the moment to inspect his dorm room, curious to see what he was studying, all before you glanced back over at him, seeing he was holding three glass bottles of beer for all of you. “Unless you’re on duty or whatever.” He said, holding out two bottles for you and Dean to take.

You weren’t exactly sure if it was a good idea to be drinking on the job, knowing it was one of the unspoken rules about being on hunts. And you were working on a case for Bobby. But when Dean innocently looked around before grabbing one, you couldn’t help yourself but indulge in the peer pressure. “I guess I can make an exception.” Dean muttered, cracking the tiniest smile as he tried being polite. You let out the softest noise that sounded like a scoff, knowing well enough the man couldn’t resist a cold beer. Taking off the top, you tossed it to the coffee table before taking the tiniest sip, feeling the cold rush of the beverage before you wrapped your fingers around the sweating glass, finally getting to the reason you and Dean were here.

“Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a charcot-wilbrand syndrome,“ You said, shifting around your grip until you opened up the file you’d managed to snag from the abundius amount of research. But it wasn’t enough for you to figure out what the illness was. "Which means…”

“Um, I, uh, I can’t dream.” Jeremey explained. You looked at him with surprise from what he had suffered, but the tiniest part of you was envious of the man. “I had this bike accident when I was a kid, and I banged my head pretty good, and I haven’t had a dream since. Well, till the study.”

"What’d the doc give you?” Dean asked, curious to know more.

“It’s this yellow tea.” Jeremey said. “It smelled awful—tasted worse.”

You nodded your head, “What did it do?”

“Just passed right out. And I had the most vivid, super-intense dream.” Jeremy tried explaining what he could remember. “Like a bad acid trip, you know?”

“Totally.” Dean muttered with half-conscious thought. But when he realized what he’d said out loud, you gave him an expression that quickly made him realize what’d he said. “I mean, no.”

“That was it. I dropped out of his study right after that. I didn’t…like it.” Jeremy admitted, his mood shifting from what he said next. “To tell you the truth, it kind of scared me.”

+ + +

You and Dean arrived back at the hospital with Sam nowhere in sight, probably still trying to find out what he could make of Bobby’s research. You were sitting in one of the uncomfortable chairs the nurses provided for you. While you were huddled in the corner with the doctor’s own research, Dean was sitting across from the comatose man. Part of you had to admit the sight was eerily familiar, how much you could empathize with Dean when he was hovering over Bobby, just waiting for any sort of sign that would make it known the older man was going to be okay. It really wasn’t that long ago since the car accident that left Dean in the same position, clinging on to life with no real answer if he would have made it out. Lucky for you and the brothers, there was a real answer of how to get this man out alive, no selling of souls required on your part. Maybe.

You drifted away from your research for the second time this hour when you subconsciously examined Dean, wondering how he was handling all of this. His concentration was still heavily on Bobby, acting like his guard dog. You looked away when you saw Sam finally come into the room, he slowly walked inside when he saw nothing had really changed since he left. You gave the man the smallest smile as you closed the file you were looking at, which caused Dean to break out of his thoughts when he realized someone was standing behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see that his little brother had finally arrived back.

“How is he?” Sam couldn’t help himself but ask.

“No change.” Dean admitted, his eyes drifting to the thick looking file his brother was holding at his side. He pushed himself up from the chair and walked forward. “What you got?”

“Well, considering what you told me about the doc’s experiments, Bobby’s wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense.” Sam said, laying the information down on the plastic table. You leaned forward slightly to see that he compiled a decent amount of information to share. He pulled out a photo of a plant that looked sort of resembled twigs, but they held more power than either one of you could imagine. “This plant, silene capensis, also known as african dream root, it’s been used by shamen and medicine men for centuries.”

“Let me guess,” Dean began trying to figure out what the plant could have been used for, but his answer only made your lips stretch into the slightest smile from how amusing it sounded. “They dose up, bust out the didgeridoos and start kicking around the hacky.”

“Not quite.” Sam said, shaking his head. “If you believe the legends, it’s used for dream-walking. I mean, entering another person’s dreams, poking around in their heads.”

You glanced up from the papers as you examined Bobby, “I take it we believe the legends.”

“When don’t we?” Sam asked, glancing down at you with a look. You nodded your head, knowing well enough you’d set yourself up for that response. “But dream-walking is just the tip of the iceberg. This dream root is some serious mojo. You take enough of it, with enough practice, you can become a regular Freddy Krueger. You can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good. You could turn good dreams bad.”

“And by that, you could easily kill people in their sleep. For example.” You admit in a quiet tone, your eyes subconsciously trailing over to Bobby again, suddenly wondering if he was at least having peaceful dreams. “So, let’s say this doctor was testing the stuff on his patient’s. Somebody get’s pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty-night.”

“But what about Bobby?” Sam asked the dreaded question out loud. “I mean if the killer came after him, how come he’s still alive?”

You and the brothers fell silent for a moment as the attention shifted back to the man still lying in bed. There was an old superstition that if you were to die in a dream, you automatically die in real life. You wondered what Bobby was dreaming about right now, or what hell he was being put through right now. You might not have known him long enough as the boys did, but you were certain about one thing, Bobby seemed like the man who wasn’t afraid of much. “I don’t know.” You admit. “But he’s a fighter, that’s for sure.”

+ + +

Neither one of you were going to find an answer to this problem by just staring at Bobby, waiting for him to respond. With at least enough information of how the killer was getting inside their victim’s brain and turning them into a comatose state, things were about to get harder. You and the boys needed to find out who was in charge of this mess, and fast, before someone else could be dragged into this. You trailed behind the brothers as all of you headed out of the hospital, you held the files close to your chest, as if you were guarding them with your life.

“So, how do we find our homicidal little sandman?” Dean asked.

You let out a scoff from the torturous reality, “It could be anyone.”

“Anyone who knew the doctor, had access to his dream shrooms.” Dean said, pointing out another fact that didn’t narrow down the field by much.

“Maybe one of his test subjects or something?” Sam guessed.

You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s possible. But his research is pretty sketchy. I mean, we don’t know how many subjects he had or who all of them were. I mean, why can’t people organized and leave a decent paper trail? It would make our lives so much easier.” You muttered underneath your breath. But your eyes trailed over to Sam when he let out a scoff, as if he was thinking about something else. “What?”

Sam let out a sigh, “In any other case, we’d be calling Bobby asking him for help right now.”

“You know what? You’re right.” Dean suddenly was hit with an idea, he quickly tugged you and his brother backward, stopping all of you in the middle of an empty hall. You furrowed your brow, wondering what idea had come to him. He looked at you two like he’d come up with a genius plan, but hen he said it out loud, you gave him a confused expression. “Let’s go talk to him.”

“Sure, buddy.” You said, speaking slowly as you looked over at Sam, the both of you wearing the same look from the older man’s idea. “But I think we might find the conversation a bit one-sided.”

“Not if we’re tripping on some dream root.” Dean said. You asked him what he was talking about, almost too fearful he was going to answer with the dreaded thought you’d been slowly building to. One of them was going to suggest it, and of course, it was gonna be Dean. “You heard me, Y/N.”

“You want to go dream-walking inside Bobby’s head?” Sam asked with disbelief.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, why not? Maybe we could help.”

“We have no idea what’s crawling around in there.” Sam argued with his brother.

“How bad could it be?”


“Dude, it’s Bobby.” Dean said, finally pushing you both to agreeing.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath, you rolled your eyes and nodded your head to signal your agreement to the plan. “One problem, though—we’re fresh out of african dream root. So unless you know someone who can score some…”

Sam trialed off, leaving you all doubtful for a moment that this plan couldn’t work. You bit your bottom lip, a nervous habit that always helped you think, and of course, you knew someone who could find anything supernatural for just the right price. You let out an obnoxious sigh as you rolled your head back, not wanting to deal with her right now. When you pulled yourself back into reality after a moment, the brothers gave you a confused look, not sure what you were getting so worked up. It took just one word for them to cringe. “Bela.”

“Bela…? Crap.” Sam grumbled, knowing she was the only one that was a reasonable enough of a source to get what you all needed. You didn’t like the idea, but she was the only option you all had if you wanted Bobby back. “You’re actually suggesting we ask her for a favor?”

“I’m feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah.” Dean didn’t like the idea of stooping so low, but he knew she was the only option you all had. Sam let out another sigh, looking down at you, knowing it was your idea all along. You avoided eye contact with him as you took your phone out of your pocket, dialing the woman as you followed behind Dean, getting ready for another long night ahead for the three of you.

+ + +

Turns out, Bela thought she owes you or the brothers nothing. You had tried to negotiate with the woman for a reason why she should help you all. Even with the fact that you’d saved her life wasn’t good enough, she threw the cash settlement back in your face. It ended with you feeling pissed off and hungry. You knew it was the middle of the night, but with all this stress, you knew there wasn’t a chance sleep was going to follow. So you threw the phone to the bed and grabbed whatever information you had before making a quick stop for a food run. There was no point of being grumpy and caffeine deprived. If Bela wasn’t going to help, fine. It didn’t mean you weren’t going to find an answer to solving this problem. There had to be something useful in these notes.

You headed for the brothers’ motel room a little while later, you knocked a few times before you let yourself in, unknowingly setting yourself for a scene that you didn’t quite expect to see. Dean was sitting across the room, hogging the loveseat as he overlooked the notes. Sam seemed to have been previously working on something, but he was now lying face first on the desk, passed out cold. You quietly kicked the door closed with your foot, making sure not to wake Sam up from his nap as you trailed across the room to set down the cups of coffee and notes you’d been collecting. But as you set down the papers, you froze in your spot when you heard the strangest noise coming from Sam. Furrowing your eyebrows, you glanced over at Dean, wondering if Sam was having a nightmare. But with the grin that was slowly spreading across his brother’s lips, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots. You rolled your eyes and itched to rip your ears off, but Dean managed to stop it before things could get even more personal.

“Sam, wake up!” Dean called out, dragging his brother from his dreams. You grabbed your cup of coffee and the notes, heading over to the bed as the youngest brother slowly began to draw himself out of his slumber. The slightest smile began creeping across your lips when you caught sight of Sam’s pleasant looking face when he came out of his dreams. But when reality set in, his face turned into a panicked expression as he quickly sat up in his chair, wiping away any traces of drool. You and Dean glanced over at one another, all before dropping your attention to the notes. “Dude, you were out. And making some serious happy noises.”

“Who were you dreaming about?” You couldn’t help but ask, joining in on the curiosity.

“What?” Sam asked, thrown off guard from the question. “No one. Nothing.”

“Come on. You can tell us.” Dean said, egging his brother on. “Angelina Jolie?”

“No.” Sam denied, you raised your brows.

“Brad Pitt?” You asked him. “Both?”

“No! No.” Sam denied an answer, you let out a small chuckle. “Dude, it doesn’t matter.”

You rolled your eyes from his defensive attitude. “Whatever. I called Bela, by the way.”

Dean made a grimacing face just from the mention of the woman’s name. Sam was quiet for a long period of time, but when he spoke up, his voice seemed awkward for a moment as he slowly tried picking out the right words that seemed casual. “Bela? Yeah?” He asked, turning around just enough in his seat so you could see him. You gave him a look, not sure why he was acting so strange. Normally he acted like the woman was nothing more than poison on his tongue, but he was all of a sudden stuttering and bashful. “W-What’d she, you know, say? She’s, gonna—She’s gonna help us?”

“Shockingly, no, which puts us back to square one.” You admit, opening the file to pull out the research you’d done on the root and the photocopied notes to lay them across the bed. Each of them had your own little marks as Dean held the real ones. “Dean and I have been trying to decipher the doctor’s notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you two do.” Normally this was the part where either one the brothers put in a comment before Sam began asking what he needed to do in order to push research along. But he sat there for the longest time. “Sammy, you gonna help us with this stuff?”

Sam was silent for a moment, again, before he coughed out an excuse, hoping the conversation would die. “Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You furrowed your brows from how strange he was acting. But before you could draw more to the surface, the attention in the room shifted to the motel door, where you heard knocking coming. You glanced over at the clock to see that it was the middle of the night. Dean kicked his feet off the bed and headed for the door, making sure to open it a crack, cautious for outsiders, but you could see his body relax when he opened the door open to reveal someone you weren’t expecting to see. “Bela,” Dean announced. “As I live and breathe.”

“Mmm,” You pressed the cup to your lips to take a sip of the hot drink. “Speak of the Devil.”

“You called me, remember?” She asked, you narrowed your eyes at her.

“I remember you turning me down.“ You corrected her.

"Well,” Bela said with a growing smile from her change of plans. “I’m just full of surprise.”

You gave the woman a mocking smile, all before your attention shifted over to Sam again when he spoke up. He was acting even more stranger now, he avoided eye contact with the woman as he waved slightly from where he was. “Hey, Bela.” He muttered, greeting the woman. “What’s going on?”

“I brought your african dream root.” Bela said, opening up her purse to pull out a mason jar of the exact substance you’d practically begged her to bring. She handed it over to Dean for safe keeping. “Nasty stuff. And not easy to come by.”

Dean examined the jar for a moment, “Why the sudden charge of heart?”

“What,” Bela asked with a bit of hurt in her voice. She untied her black trench coat, slipping off so she could toss it to the side where she laid her purse down. “I can’t do you a little favor every now and again?”

“No, you’re not.” Dean said, not buying the woman’s charitable act that seemed too out of character for someone like her who used anyone to get what she wanted. “Now, come on. I want to know what the strings are before you attach ‘em.”

“Come on. You said this was for Bobby Singer, right? Well, I’m doing it for him. Not you.” Bella said, clarifying her reasons behind all of this. You gave her a look, asking her why, pushing for a real answer. She crossed her arms over chest as her gaze shifted downward. “He saved my life once in Flagstaff.” You and the brothers looked at one another, all before shifting attention back to her, pushing for the deeper truth. Bella let out a quiet sigh from what she was about to admit. “I screwed up and he saved me, okay? Are you satisfied?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Maybe.”

"So,” Bela glanced down at the jar with curiosity with a smirk growing across her lips, as if she was going to be apart of this. “When do we get to go on this little magical mystery tour?”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere. I don’t trust you enough to let you in my car,” Dean said, walking across the room as he opened up the safe that was right in the side of the closet wall, where the colt had been hiding. “Much less Bobby’s head. No offense.”

“None taken.” Bela mumbled, keeping her comments under control as she watched the dream root become locked away. A small silence fell between you as she waited for something. You glanced up from the papers when you saw her eyes were lingering on you all, as she was waiting for an invitation. “It’s two a.m. Where am I supposed to go?”

“Get a room.” Dean said, knowing very well she was standing in a mote with at least a few rooms free for the night. She rolled her eyes from the offer as she examined the tacky looking interior that wasn’t exactly tailored to her posh liking. “Oh, they got the magic fingers, a little ‘Casa Erotica’ on pay-per-view. You’ll love it.”

You couldn’t help yourself but give Dean an annoyed look from his response as Bela threw daggers at the man. She snatched her belongings all before she stormed out the motel room. “Nice to—seeing you,” Sam jumped up from his chair as he saw the woman leave, but the goodbye died when the door slammed shut, ignoring the only decent response. “Bela.” You narrowed your eyes at the man for the longest time, wanting to know what had Sam suddenly acting like this around her.

+ + +

“So, Sammy,” You and the youngest Winchester were alone in the motel room for a brief moment. Dean was out for a few minutes, going to your room down the hall to fetch something you’d asked him to get. Sam looked up from the cups of tea he was making, he gave you a curious expression, wondering what you were about to talk about. It took you a bit of thinking to wonder what he was dreaming about and the sudden strange behavior around the woman. When you put two and two together, everything made a bit more sense. And while the thought was a bit unsettling, you knew the opportunity was too good to pass up to see if you were right about this. “Bela, huh?”

“What about her?” Sam asked, his voice too casual as he continued on brewing the tea.

You leaned yourself against the wall as your arms crossed over your chest. The slightest bit of a smirk began to creep along your lips. “You were pretty friendly with her back there.” It was a simple observation that he brushed off with a shrug, not quite getting what you were trying to bring up. You curiously raised your eyebrows. He might have been a skilled hunter, but you knew him well enough to know when he was lying. “Normally you flinch just at the mere mention of her name. But you acted pretty friendly. I mean, almost too friendly.” Sam knew what you were hinting around from the panicked expressions that flashed across his face. You thought it was just a harmless joke Dean tired to play, but just the sight of him looking like a deer in headlights, it made everything come true. “Oh, God—Sam! Out of anyone, Bela? Really?”

“Wh—It was just a dream!” Sam argued as he threw his hands up in defense. That didn’t stop the grin from spreading across your lips as the laugh building up inside your chest from coming out. Sam let out a frustrated breath from how you were acting, and while he opened his mouth to make a comment about how you were acting like his brother, just the mere thought of the man triggered an old memory. “Look who’s calling the kettle black, Y/N.”

You stopped laughing for a moment from what he said, thrown off from his remark. You thought about it for a moment before the sound of the motel door swung open and Dean called out, signaling his presence. It was Sam’s turn to grin like he has a secret as he crossed his arms over his chest, your cheeks began to burn when you began to remember. Back when you were still new at hunting with the boys, Dean took a case that involved an old lover—a woman named Casey, a sweet girl. But at the time it was strange to see a woman like Casey to hold Dean’s attention for more than one night. You were young and stupid. And while you thought the memory was buried, Sam dragged it out from the depths of Hell to even out the score. With the look on his face, you knew he wasn’t afraid to let some dirty laundry air out if you let the Bela dream slip when Dean was around.

“You wouldn’t dare.” You whispered in fear.

Sam’s little smirk grew wider, “Try me, Y/N.”

“Hey,” Dean called out from the other side of the room. “You ladies almost done in there?”

“Coming.” You said, throwing Sam a glare as you grabbed two cups of the murky looking tea from the counter. Sam let out a quiet laugh before he trailed behind. You handed a cup over to Dean as you sat down at the edge of the bed next to him, Sam taking the free bed for the experiment that was about to come. You lifted up the cup to your nose, sniffing it once before your face scrunched up from the foreign smell that lingered off. “This is gonna be a trip.”

"Well, shall we dim the lights and sync up 'Wizard of Oz’ and 'Dark Side of the Moon’?” Dean suggested, you and Sam looked over at one another, not sure why you would want to do that. Of course, he looked at you and his brother with the utmost confusion of the innocent reaction. “What did you two do with all that free time?”

You looked at him strangely, “What did you do when you weren’t hunting?”

Dean didn’t answer that question, his eyes lingered away from you as he brought the cup up to his lips to take a sip. But his brother quickly stopped him. “Wait, wait, wait.” Sam said. He quickly pulled out a small envelope from his shirt pocket as he let out a sigh of relief. “Whew. Can’t forget this.”

Sam opened up the paper envelope as he dumped out something into his palm, all before handing it over to you and Dean. “What the hell is that?” His brother asked when he noticed the substance was familiar as he began to run it through his fingers without getting it anywhere.

“Bobby’s hair.” Sam answered.

Your face scrunched up in disgust, “We have to drink Bobby’s hair?”

“That’s how you control whose dream you’re entering.” Sam explained to you. “You got to drink some of their, uh…some of their body.”

The things you would do for the people you love. You let out a sigh before you dumped the hair into the tea, getting every little strand inside the cup before you wiped your palm against your jeans. “Well, guess the hair of the dog’s better than other parts of the body.” Dean said. You looked up to see that his cup was lingering near yours. “Bottoms up.”

You and him clinked cups before you took a deep breath, letting the glass linger over your lips before you took the plunge. You forced yourself to drink the liquid that too hard to explain in words. It was taking everything in you not to vomit it up, but you managed to swallow it all like a champ You coughed a few times before you sucked in a breath, placing a hand against your stomach. All of you waited a few moments for the dream-root to settle in.

“Feel anything?”

“No.” You admitted. There was no sudden rush or weightless feeling someone would expect if you were stuck in a dream. You just sat on the bed with an empty cup and a stomach that was beginning to grow more upset with each passing moment. “You feel anything, psychedelic boy?”

“Nah.” Dean said, agreeing with you. “Maybe we got some bad schwag.”

You let out a quiet sigh, beginning to wonder if Bela might have duped you for the real thing. But it seemed Sam noticed something that was strange. He heard the sound of something that sounded like thunder as he glanced over to the window. “Hey, when did it start raining?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion when your ears perked up at the sound of droplets hitting the window. Pushing yourself to your feet, you walked slowly over to the window, you put your hands on each side of the curtains before you ripped them open. Sure, it was raining. Just not in the direction you were used to. “Guys, when did it start raining upside down?” You asked the brothers, slowly turning around in your spot. But what you saw wasn’t the motel room. You were in a completely different room, a different state of mind all together. It worked. “Well, I guess we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

“Okay, I don’t know what’s weirder,” Dean began as he suspiciously examined the living room that all of you were now standing in. You were in someone’s living room, and from how it was decorated, there was something familiar about it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “The fact that we’re in Bobby’s head or that he’s dreaming of Better Homes and Gardens.”

“Wait. Wait a second.” Sam said, beginning to understand where all of you were now. “Imagine the place without the paint job, more cluttered, dusty, books all over the place.”

You examined the scenery, putting the thoughts together, all before you recognized the similar details that were much more in tack that you were used to seeing. “It’s Bobby’s house.”

Everything about this place might have seemed like a perfect dream from the cozy looking interior of the home. But looks could be deceiving to the human eye. There was something strange, a feeling of awaiting tension lingered around in the air like a thick fog. You could hear the howling wind outside of the home as the distant sound of rain droplets hitting the roof from above. The boys quietly lingered around the house, whispering out Bobby’s name to see where he was hiding inside of his own mind. You’ve done a lot, seen more things that you could describe, but being inside the dreamstate of someone was a whole new level–it made you feel slightly dizzy when you thought about it. You felt like you’d stepped out of the supernatural world and jumped right into a chapter of a sci-fi plot idea. Just when you thought you’d seen it all, there was always more.

"Guys.” Sam’s voice brought you out of your concentration as you looked forward to see that he was already halfway across the room. He stood near the front door with the staircase just behind him. “I’m gonna go look outside.”

“No, no, no.” You whispered, shaking your head in disagreement. “Stay close.”

“Y/N, I’ll be fine. Just look around in here with Dean.” Sam said, acting as if you all were just exploring another house. You narrowed your eyes at him, but you knew out of anyone, Sam would be able to take care of himself. You doubt Bobby had anything seriously dangerous crawling inside his min. Still, you gave him a worried expression. “Look, we got to find him.”

You let out a quiet sigh, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Sam nodded his head before he walked to the front door, quietly opening it before stepping outside to the unknown. You kept yourself occupied by looking at the surroundings to see if there was anything that jumped out at you. Dean was following in your actions as he found himself walking forward to a pair of sliding double doors that normally lead to the kitchen. You turned your head in time to see that he slowly opened them, cautious to see if there was a threat waiting on the other side, but the room on the other side looked just like the same kitchen you’d been into dozens of times. But when you stepped inside after Dean, you noticed how neat and tidy it looked, no traces of odd ingredients for rituals or spells laid on the counter. It seemed like a normal kitchen, just a normal house. But why were you feeling like something terrible was lingering around?

“Bobby?” Dean called out, his voice was still a whisper as he trailed across the kitchen with you following behind. You and him examined every little inch of this place, looking over your shoulder from a creak. Still, there was nothing there to tell either of you where he was. “Bobby?!”

You and him stopped after finding yourselves cornered with two sides at each of your side. As you began contemplating if you should explore another part of the house, the sudden creaking of floorboards sent your head quickly snapping to the side. You quieted your breathing as you waited for someone to pop out, but the room remained empty after a long moment of silence.

“Who’s out there?”

The familiar voice brought you back into reality making you and Dean to lock eyes from surprise. You looked over your shoulder to see that it was coming from behind, but there was no where to go, except for a door that was just behind you. Dean nodded his head forward as you began to quietly walk to the closed door. When you got closer, you put out a hand to rest on the wood, your skin brushing against the scratch marks, like someone tried crawling their way inside. “Bobby,” You called out. “You in there?”

“Y/N?” Relief flood through you when you heard Bobby’s voice. “Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s us.” You said. “Open up.”

Just a few seconds later you took a step backwards when the door quietly swung open, Bobby’s head peeking through the crack, all before he ripped it open and shot out. It wasn’t hard to tell that Bobby wasn’t dreaming of better days; he had a panicked look in his eye, something you’d never in him before, as he cautiously looked around the place before drawing his attention back to you and Dean. “How the hell did you find me?” He questioned the both of you.

“We got our hands on some of that dream-root stuff.” Dean tried explaining, but Bobby gave the man a confused expression as drew himself away from scoping out the kitchen again.

“Dream root?” Bobby asked with a peculiar tone. “What?”

“Dr. Gregg–the experiments?” You listed off more hints, hoping that would draw something out.

“What the hell are you talking about, kid?” Bobby asked. But before you could come to the conclusion that he had no idea what was going on, your attention drew itself to the flickering lamp post just across the room. And you knew if lights started to flicker, nothing good was about to come. Bobby grabbed a hold of you and Dean by your arms as he began to roughly drag you both to the closet for safety. “Hurry.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean quickly grabbed a hold of Bobby by the man’s arms before he could get any further, suddenly needing to know where the sudden panic was about. “What’s going on?”

“She’s coming.” Bobby whispered in a panicked tone.

“Okay, you know this is a dream, don’t you?” Dean asked.

Bobby’s face scrunched up, “W-What, are you crazy?”

“It’s a dream, Bobby.” Dean said, his tone becoming harder. “None of this is real.”

Of course when those words were spoken, you looked over your shoulder just in time to see the door to another room were beginning to slowly open. Your mouth parted open in surprise when you saw a woman lingering in the doorway. She was dressed in a simple white nightgown, but what threw you off was the three stab wounds lying on her chest. “Uh, Dean.” You whispered, a hand reaching out to tug on his shirt sleeve like a scared child. “Does that look made up?” But your attention was drawn forward again when you heard the closet door slam shut. Bobby tried rattling the doorknob to let it go free, but it still remained locked. “Bobby, who is that?”

“She’s…” Bobby leaned himself against the door, he let out sharp and shaky breaths as he watched the woman take steps forward to him. You could feel your face drop in surprise from what he was about to admit next. “She’s my wife.”

“Why Bobby?” The woman asked, finally speaking when Bobby pushed himself off the door and tried making an escape for another room. But when she threw the question out, the man stopped dead in his tracks before he forced himself to look at her. “Why did you do this to me?”

“I’d have rather died myself than to hurt you.” He said with a guilty tone of voice.

“But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me…” She began with a quiet tone, but her voice slowly turned harder as she crept forward. She shook her head as her eyes glossed over with anger. “Again and again. You watched me bleed. Watched me die.”

Dean stepped forward, yanking the man by his arm. “Bobby, she’s not real.”

“How could you?” She questioned the man.

“You were possessed, baby.” Bobby admitted, his eyes were glossed over with sadness. This must have been his deepest, darkest secret that brought him into the hunting lifestyle. He accidentally killed his wife. The guilt must have ate him up inside all these years, and whoever got inside his head knew this. He was facing his inner demons. But instead of conquering them, it was going to be his death. "You were rabid. And I didn’t know what I know now. I didn’t know how to save you.”

“You’re lying. You wanted me dead.” She hissed at him with nothing but hatred. “If you loved me, you would have found a way!”

Bobby only managed to whisper out an apology before Dean lost his patience, dragging the man backwards as you quickly lunged forward, shutting the sliding doors before she could attack him. You pressed your weight against the doors as you tried thinking of something to keep the rabid woman from killing you all. “I’m telling you–all of it–your house, your wife,” Dean tried explaining the situation to Bobby again. “It’s all a nightmare.” Luckily you managed to have found a telephone wire from the table next you, snapping out of its spot, you quickly looped the wire through the handles before making a tight knot.

“I killed her.” Bobby whispered, still caught in his own thoughts.

“This is your dream. You can wake up.” You said. “Hell, you can do anything.”

“Just leave me alone.” Bobby muttered out. “Let her kill me already.”

That seemed to have made something snap inside of Dean from what the man said. You could feel the pressure against the door lift up when Dean charged forward at the man, he grabbed Bobby by both of his arms and roughly shook him. “You gotta snap out of this now! You’re not gonna die. I’m not gonna let you die.” Dean said, his tone was hard and strong. But as he continued on, you could see the real emotion, the true feeling of how he viewed Bobby, came bubbling to the surface. “I’m not gonna let you die. You’re like a father to me. You gotta believe me. Please!”

It took a moment for Bobby to understand what was going on, the words that Dean had spoken finally soaking in. He slowly drew his gaze upward from the floor as he looked up at you, all before making eye contact with Dean. “I’m dreaming?” He asked, for clarification.

“God, yes!” You screamed in frustration. The woman was pounding and scratching her way into the door, but you knew it was just a matter of time before she broke into the kitchen. “Now, take control of it!”

It felt like forever just standing there, hearing the woman’s screams echo in your ears. But Bobby took a deep breath and closed his eyes, repeating the words over again in his mind. And it seemed the trick work because just a few seconds later, everything stopped–the screaming, the pounding. You let out a nervous breath as you took a step forward before turning around to look at the door with caution. When nothing happened, you untied the knot and threw the cord the ground. You slowly opened up the doors, only to see that nothing was there. “I don’t believe it.” You heard Bobby whisper underneath his breath in astonishment.

“Believe it.” You said, looking over your shoulder at him. “Now, would you please wake up?”

+ + +

Your eyelids ripped open as you quickly let out a breath when you felt yourself submerged into reality again. A thin layer of sweat covered your body as you jumped up from the bed, the cup you’d been holding thumped to the floor. The brothers were sitting just beside you, the both of them trying to steady their breathing as they tried wrapping their minds about what happened.

+ + +

Turns out, poking inside Bobby’s head and letting Sam wander around was the best thing to happen. You gotten a call from the hospital not even fifteen minutes after being brutally awaken from the slumber that the oldest hunter was alive and well. Sam was beginning to remember his own journey that lead him on to the last person involved in the doctor’s sleep, Jeremy Frost. You and the brothers headed for the hospital to see that Bobby was awake and very much healthy, giving you a bit of room to breathe. The brothers decided to search around the campus to find Jermey, you decided to stay behind to lend a hand on searching more thoroughly of the documents Bobby gathered with added papers of the doctor’s experiments you took from his assistant. It might have seemed like tedious work, but you didn’t really mind. And it sure beat roaming around town for someone that probably spooked into skipping town.

You and Bobby worked in silence for a chunk of time, rereading information that you knew, but still had no idea what it meant. Your mind was beginning to dwell away from research as you thought about the nightmares the man sitting across from you had been dealing with over and over for days. Everyone had a few skeletons in the closet. And part of you had always been too much of a curious person to keep your mouth shut. You shuffled the papers you’d been examining and put them back into the table that was across from you. Sucking in a small breath, you decided to start a conversation, hoping it wouldn’t upset the man for bringing the subject up.

“Hey, Bobby…that, uh, stuff—all that stuff with your wife,” You said, jumping straight into the topic you’d been wanting to discuss. You watched as the man’s concentration broke away from the papers he’d been holding. Bobby’s face was taken back slightly from what you’d remembered from the nightmare. You spoke up again, softening your tone. “That actually happened?”

Bobby was quiet for a few moments as he thought about an answer. You wondered if he was going to deny it with either trying to change the subject or scolding you for bringing up a touchy subject, but he never did. “Everybody got into hunting somehow.” He admitted.

“Oh,” You muttered with a bit of surprise. All of those things, what the woman had spoken about, all of it had actually happened. You suddenly were overcome with guilt. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Bobby said. “If it weren’t for you and those boys, I’d still be lost in there…or dead.” You glanced up from your fingers that were fidgeting in your lap. If you thought you were happy about the outcome, you could feel the slightest smile creeping along the end of your lips from what you heard Bobby said next, a bit taken back. “Thank you.”

You nodded your head, licking your lips to keep yourself from acting like a fool. It had been strange to hear something that come from a man like Bobby, knowing it was normally you who always depended on someone like him to save the day. But the attention slipped away from the conversation when you looked to the doorway, seeing the brothers heading back from the search. And from the expressions that were painted across their faces, it seemed they weren’t about to share some good news to you and Bobby. Sam headed forward as he rubbed his hands together, getting ready to break the information him and Deah learned.

“So, uh, Stoner Boy wasn’t in his dorm.” Sam said. “My guess is he’s long gone by now.”

“He ain’t much of a stoner.” Bobby said, you gave the man a curious look from the presumption. You thought he was rather not the so bright kind of man from the first impression he gave you and Dean. But turns out you were very wrong from what Bobby learned about the man. “His name’s Jeremey Frost—full on genius—one-sixty I.Q. Which is saying something, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head. Here’s father of the year. He died before Jeremey was ten.”

You reached out a hand to grabbed the printed driver’s license of Jeremy’s father. You remembered the bogus story he’d told you about having a biking accident when he was a child. But you couldn’t help yourself but wince seeing the man Jeremy was forced to live with for almost a decade. Even from his grainy black and white photo, he was quite intimidating looking. “Looks like a real sweetheart.” You commented, putting the paper back with the rest of the pile.

“Injury gave him charcot-wilbrand.” Bobby explained. “He hasn’t dreamt since.”

“Till he started dosing the dream drug.” Dean suspected, Bobby nodded his head. You noticed that Dean had trailed off for a moment before he looked over at the man, asking a question that’d been rattling around in your brain. “How did he know how to dig up your worst nightmares and throw it at you?”

“Hey, he was rooting around in my skull.” Bobby said, defending himself. “God knows what he saw in there.”

“Yeah, how’d he get in there in the first place?” Sam asked, bringing up a question that suddenly made you feel like squirming around in your seat. “Isn’t he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA, or something?”

“Yeah.” Bobby said, his voice dropping to an annoyed tone from the amature move he had accidentally made that land him in the predicament. “Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest friggin’ thing.”

You nervously bit your bottom lip as you looked over at Dean, remembering you and him had done the same thing. While you took the tiniest sip, it probably was enough for Jeremy to take. “Oh, I don’t know.” Dean chuckled out, his lips nervously stretching into a crooked smile. “It wasn’t that dumb.” You let out a quiet sigh when you could feel two pairs of eyes train on the man, all before they lingered over to you after you rated yourself out from the way you were fidgeting in your seat. Your lips stretched into the smallest smile when you caught Sam’s eyes boring straight at you

“Guys, you didn’t.” Sam said, his voice dripping with surprise at how careless you were.

“I was thirsty.”

“What? I didn’t know!”

Sam rolled his eyes from the excuses that week nothing but amature, “That’s great. Now he can come after either one of you.”

“Don’t get your boxes all twisted, Sammy.” You said, putting up a hand to keep the man from lecturing you about putting yourself in danger. It was an honest accident, you really didn’t want to hear anymore about it. “Now we just have to find him first. I mean, it’s not that big of a town. He’s gotta be hiding somewhere.”

“Well, we better work fast and coffee up.” Bobby suggested, knowing that all of you, with the exception of Sam, forced yourselves into this outcome. “Cause the one thing we cannot do is fall asleep.” You nodded your head in agreement with the plan. It’d been almost a foolproof plan, between the all nighters you pulled in high school and endless times for research, you thought this was going to be a piece of cake. There was no way Jeremey was going to get inside your head because unlike Bobby or the boys, you had an enormous amount of demons to pick from.

+ + +

It’d been two days since anyone slept. You sat in the backseat of the Impala with darkness engulfing your vision. Driving at night wasn’t smart. Everyone was handling the insomnia in their own way. Sam was a trooper, trying to go along with the plan to support everyone. You were quiet and confident that you could at least keep yourself from drifting by drinking coffee and any sort of caffeine you could get your hands on. But Dean was an absolute beast. He sat in the driver’s side of the car with the utmost rage coming through in his facial expressions. Everyone was tired and had the ugly dark circles underneath their eyes. But he had been the one chugging coffee left and right. You were suspecting the last one he had just an hour ago wasn’t such a good idea, after all.

“I mean, this Jeremy guy isn’t a friggin’ ghost.” Dean grumbled, his foot subconsciously stepping harder on the gas petal, sending the Impala’s engine roaring to life. “Where the hell could he be?”

“Dean, you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Sam asked, his tone was full of concern when he saw his brother knuckling the steering wheel rather tight. And seeing the speedometer slowly go up wasn’t exactly comforting, either. “You—You seem a little caffeinated.”

“Well, thanks for the news flash, Edison!” Dean snapped at his brother. You rolled your eyes from the attitude as your attention trailed away from the front seat to the window, focusing on how memorizing the woods passed you by in such a blur. Without even noticing the ringing cell phone, you could feel your eyelids slowly drifting together. Five minutes. You can rest for five minutes then you have to wake up. “Tell me you got something!”

You could hear the conversation between Dean and whoever was on the other line slowly drift away into nothing but mumbled background noise. Pressing your head against the cold glass window, finally, you closed your eyes. It felt amazing to rest your aching body. There was no way you were going to let Jeremy into your head. A little nap wasn’t going to pass into what Bobby got himself into. But five minutes turned into something more. You counted down the seconds until you lost count. The surprise of not feeling the car shaking brought you back into reality. You ripped your eyelids open and pushed yourself into a sitting position. You wanted to see Sam and Dean sitting in the front seat, but of course, you were alone.

All though you were thrown off from the scenery, you were determined that you were still awake. The Impala was parked with the keys still in the ignition. You cautiously looked around to see that you were in the middle of the woods, but the scenery looked familiar. Maybe the boys were roaming around the woods. You feel awake enough to go find them. Reaching out a hand, you open up the backseat door and swing your legs out of the car, getting ready to track through the forest. The thought of grabbing a weapon never occurs when you start making your way through the path of grass and twigs you heared break underneath your weight. For a moment you feel that you’re safe enough to travel, unaware of what dangers might lurk around. You think you’re still awake, and if you see Jeremy, you can take down a man like him. But you don’t realize that this is his playing field before it’s too late.

You wandered through the woods, calling out names, expecting for someone to respond. But your voice echoes into the night. You make your way through the woods with the branches bare of leaves, giving you a perfect scene of the full moon above. Everything about this seems peaceful, that is, until you take your gaze away from the night sky to the land right across from you. When you take another step, you suddenly can feel the ground beneath you change. You look down to see your shoes are sinking into what appears to be mud. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. It takes a moment before you look to see you approached a wide lake that you swear wasn’t there a second ago.

Out of curiosity, you find yourself wandering closer to the body of water. The moon reflects itself as you take a step toward the edge, your eyes see that the light gives you a perfect view of yourself. All of this feels like the beginning scene of the Disney movie “Mulan.” Maybe you should start singing the song when she was looking at her reflection in the water. The faintest smile stretches across your lips in amusement. But you can feel it stop when something causes the water to ripple, destroying the perfect scenery m. Something was down there, you thought to yourself, and like an idiot, you drop to a crouch. You can’t help yourself but reach out a hand,!wondering what was below. Maybe it was a fish.

You can only hear your breathing as you contemplate for a moment if this was a good idea. You should be looking for the boys. Why were you getting so sidetracked? You slowly retract your arm away from the water, but before you could realize it, you can feel something wrapping around your neck and roughly bending you over. A gasp of surprise escapes you from the sudden turn of events, but that was going to be the last breath of air. You thought the water was going to be freezing as you can feel the substance fill your mouth and throat. But it feels like you jumped into a pit of fire. It burns your skin. You struggle to get out of whoever is holding you, but the more you fuss, the tighter the grip goes around your body.

The familiar sense of haziness clouds your body from the lack of oxygen being cut off from your lungs. Everything about this feels like hell. Your skin feels like someone is sizzling it off and the lack of air is beginning to make you panic. But after a minute of being immersed into the water, the stranger finally pulls you out, letting your flustered skin calm down from the gentle breeze of the night that passes by. You let out sharp gasps of air as someone wraps their fingers around your hair, roughly taking a fistful of it and bending you backwards to see who it was. Part of you wondered if it was going to be Jeremey, but you can feel a sense of familiarity about this person come rushing back to you. The stranger’s lips stretch into a smirk from your reaction. Out of all the creatures that you hunted and killed, you knew he’d easily gotten the worst one of them all.

The monster you’re staring at has familiar traits. She has your hair color and the same outfit you’re wearing. But there’s something different about her. Maybe it’s because her eyes are pitch black. It takes a split second to realize the girl you’re staring at is you. She’s the thing you’re afraid of becoming.

“You know what they say—You are your own worst enemy.” The girl says, her lips stretching into a bigger smile when she sees you trying to squirm. But you can feel her grip in your hair tighten, you wince at the unfamiliar pain. “Don’t make me dunk you back into the water. It burns like a bitch, doesn’t it? That’s because it’s the one thing demons hate—What we are gonna start hating soon enough.”

You were thrown off for a moment from what she was going on about. But when you began remembering how badly the water burned your skin, you could feel your face dropping in surprise from what it was. “Holy water?” You ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“That’s right. It’s what people use to get the filth and sin they’ve collected over the years. And someone like you needs to learn how to get clean.” She said. You can feel her slowly start pushing you to the water until you’re just inches from it. You can’t help but plead and fight your way out. The woman lets the slightest chuckle from your reaction. “You know, we might not have been raised to be religious, but come on. You gotta admit this is sort of…biblical—and ironic, all in the same way. You want to off yourself because it’s just a matter of time before you turn into a monster. But if you kick it, you’re gonna turn into one of them.”

You can feel your breathing becoming shallow with fear, wondering if she’s going to dunk you back in. But for a moment you think that you can take control of the situation, you are dreaming. The laugh escaping the woman shatters the hope. “Decisions, decisions. I think we should just do it. Follow the family tradition! It’s not like you’re going to avoid it. You can’t keep running from who you are. One day you’re gonna have to face the death and description that’s all your fault.” She spoke with such venom in her voice, it almost fools you into thinking you deserved this. But you retaliate.

"No!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, tired of hearing the same speech. “It’s not my fault for where I came from. And I don’t care what people say—I’m not gonna turn into a demon. I can’t.” Tears are coming to the brink of your eyes. You were so tired of doing it for the past year since you learned the truth about how you were brought into the world, the bloodshed that was spilled to make you. And the whispers about you becoming a monster, it was getting so tiresome. “I don’t deserve any of this.”

She leans forward so her lips are hovering over your ear, she lets out a chuckle, her breath tickles your skin as a bad shiver runs down your spine. She’s your subconscious—the one thing who knows all your secrets. You wonder why you keep wasting your breath on lies. “Of course you do. Everyone you love—Mary, Andrew, John and Ella are dead because of you. Do you really want to add the boys to the list?” She asks, her voice dropping to a whisper so you can hear it clearly. “Don’t be selfish, Y/N. Do the right thing. I know you’re tired. Tired of the lies. Tired of pretending to be happy.”

You know she’s right. But you mumble out protests and try your hardest to squirm out of her grip. She was stronger than you. You could feel yourself going back into the water. This time it didn’t burn, it’s freezing. You could feel the familiar sensation of lungs beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen. Everything about this had your worst fears wrapped up. You hated knowing that you were going to become something you hated, and no matter how much you tried denying the fact you thought dying was going to help, here you were. The sense of darkness was starting to cloud your senses. All about this felt so familiar. Now you realized why this was your biggest fear. This was your first attempt at trying to make the deal come true—the real chance you could have died.

No.You weren’t going to let this happen. There has to be a way of getting out of this one. Maybe this was like what’d you experienced a few mornings ago—sleep paralysis, that’s what it was called. You remembered reading about how if the victim suffered through it, they needed to calm themselves down and realize they were still sleeping. Become aware of your surroundings and slowly ease yourself into waking up. That’s what you needed to do. You weren’t going to let her win. You can fight this before she lets you die. This isn’t real. She isn’t real. Just snap out of it.

+ + +

Dean hung up his cell phone and slammed it down against the front seat, not even caring about where it landed. He could feel his nerves becoming more agitated from the bad news Bobby had given him. There were no leads that could help point where this Jeremy kid was. All he wanted to do was kill the son of a bitch with his bare hands and then reward himself with the two days of sleep he’d been missing out on. He was going to find him and make him pay. But if he couldn’t find him, maybe there was a way he could lure him in. If he knew he was dreaming, there was a better chance of controlling the situation and killing Jeremey once and for all. Dean continued down the road, and when he saw an empty path come into his view, the Impala automatically turned when he swerve the steering wheel to the right.

Everyone drove down the man made path, heading deeper into the woods until he saw a path clear enough to give you all some privacy. He eased the car to a stop and turned the engine off. “Alright, that’s it.” Dean announced, shoving the key out of the ignition. “I’m done.”

“What are you doing?” Sam asked, suddenly wondering why his brother pulled in here.

“Taking myself a long-overdue nap.” Dean said. He adjusted around in the seat before he leaned backward, letting his eyes close for a split second, but he could feel them crack open when his brother continued talking. And like always, became a worrier about everything.

“What? Dean, Jeremey can come after you.” Sam warned his brother.

“That’s the idea.” Dean muttered. Of course, Sam lashed out, he turned his head to see that the man was giving him an annoyed expression, demanding further explanation. “Come on, man. We can’t find him. So let him come to me.”

“On his own turf—where he’s basically a God?” Sam questioned his brother, knowing very well what a man like Jeremey could do. His brother shrugged off his concern, mumbling something about handling it. He rolled his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder for a moment to look into the backseat to see how you were doing. It’d been quiet for a while. “Not alone you—Y/N?”

Dean’s eyelids popped open when he heard the fear slowly come into Sam’s tone. He glanced up to the rear view mirror to look at the backseat, his body stiffened when he saw you weren’t moving. He pushed himself into a sitting position all before he was twisting around, reaching out an arm to shake you, but you weren’t moving. “Son a bitch.” He hissed to himself when he at least could feel a steady pulse after checking out of fear. That drew one conclusion. “She fell asleep!”

“You think?” He could hear Sam muttered underneath his breath. Now it was clear enough of what he had to do. But before Dean could get himself back into a sleeping position, he let out an expected yelp of pain when he felt something pluck out a hair from his head. He quickly looked over to see that his brother held a piece of it in his fingers. “You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you.“

"No, you’re not.” Dean argued with a strong tone.

Sam looked at the man with a glare, “Why not? At least then, it’ll be two against one.”

“Cause I don’t want you digging around in my head.” Dean said.

“Too bad.” Sam muttered, leaving the argument at that.

Dean knew his brother had a point. But there were things inside his head, secrets and thoughts that nobody should know about. But there was no way of getting out of this one. He glanced over at your sleeping body one more time before he closed his eyes, hoping that there was a chance of luring out this psycho Jeremey. If anyone had enough problems, Dean could give the man one last thrill before ending his life once and for all.

+ + +

Who knows how much time had passed. The brothers had been sleeping peacefully in the Impala for awhile before Sam brought himself back into reality. He didn’t really know what to expect to see. But it didn’t seem like a pleasant view when he noticed that they were still in the woods. He pushed himself into a sitting position when he noticed his brother was still passed out. All it took was a simple shove on the shoulder before the man was startled out of his sleep. Dean eyelids felt heavy and urged to close again, but when he noticed they were still in the same place, he let out an annoyed sigh, thinking the plan didn’t work.

“For the love of God.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. “What are we still doing here?”

“I have no idea.” Sam admitted. The both of them dropped into a silence for a moment, trying to figure out what was going on. But the distant sound of a twig breaking caused them to break their concentration, suddenly wondering if there was a stranger lurking around. “There’s someone out there.”

The brothers looked at each other for a moment before coming to the conclusion that they needed to search the place. Maybe Jeremy was out there, or it was some forest animal, still, it was better to be cautious. They stepped out of the car, slamming the doors shut before locking it up, making sure you were safe before going on the hunt. Dean observed the empty fields as he began walking forward, Sam started to trail behind. For the most part it was just the same scenery; dead leaves and trees that seemed miles long. There was no threat that seemed to have popped out. As Dean began to wonder if he was really awake, what laid just ahead made him stop dead in his tracks. Of all the times to be wrong…he had to pick today.

“Hi, Dean.” It was you. Well, not the everyday version he got to see, more the one he’d fantasized ever since the djinn. In all of this darkness there seemed to have been a spotlight of sunshine directly on you, illuminating the red checkered blanket you sat on. A warm smile was spread across your cheeks as you sat down with a pretty yellow dress. You were sitting with a picnic basket at your side and a wine glass in your left hand, showing off your wedding band. “We only have an hour before we have to pick up the kids from practice.”

Dean noticed the sounds of footsteps coming from behind, suddenly sending him out of his concentration on you. He looked over to see that this brother was observing the sight with little emotion, maybe it was surprise from what it came down to. He swallowed and avoided eye contact. "I never had this dream before.” He denied the truth that was too obvious. But from the corner of his eye, Sam kept staring at him, as if he was trying to wrap his head around everything.“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Sorry.” Sam muttered underneath his breath. If circumstances were different, he might have cracked a joke. “It’s just…sorry.”

“Dean.” You spoke up again. He gave his full attention to you know. Just from the look on his face made his heart start beating faster. He knew what you were going to say next. “I love you.”

But when those were spoken, that’s when the dream stopped. It took just a blink of an eye before you vanished from his sight, everything turned into darkness again. Dean could feel his brow scrunching in confusion. “Where’d she go?” He asked, suddenly not wanting this to be over. And here he was getting comfortable.

“Dean.” His brother whispered.

The man followed Sam’s eyelight to see someone peeking out of the trees and bushes. Dean could feel his lips pressing themselves into a snarl when his eyes adjusted to the darkness. There he was; Jeremey peeked himself out from a tree like a timid little animal, and when he saw the hunters, the bastard ran like a coward. It didn’t take more than a look before both of the brothers went off running in the direction Jeremey was running. Sam was closer, taking the lead to follow the man as Dean found himself trailing behind, finding it harder to see through the darkness and trees to keep up. And soon enough, Dean had gotten himself lost in the maze of trees and naked branches. He stopped running for a moment to catch his breath, but as he did so, he cautiously looked around to see if there was anyone around. But something in the distance caught his eye.

Dean took a few steps forward, his boots crunching underneath wet leaves and twigs as he headed forward to an opening of the woods. He reached out a hand to pull back a branch in order to see the outside better; his gaze lingered over to what appeared to an opening to a lake. All though he would have brushed it off as nothing, what he saw lingering at the muddy edge caught his attention. Through the moonlight lingering above, he could see a lifeless body floating in the water. If his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, and if this wasn’t a nightmare he’d had a million times since that night, he could swear it was you. He nearly jumped out of his spot in the woods, letting his shoes sink into the mud as he tracked his way through. Suddenly he began to remember the coffee cup you and him shared a few hours before falling asleep. Maybe Jeremy had found out his biggest fear–the man could have killed you to mess him him.

He wasn’t going to let this get to his head. Dean’s dream had come true not that long ago, and when he told himself that it was just a cheap trick, you vanished. All he had to do was make himself believe that this was another ploy and he would be able to focus on the hunt again. Dean dropped himself to his knees, landing on the soft grass as he grabbed ahold of the body, dragging it backwards until he managed to push them so they were lying on their backside. He could see wet strands of hair was covering the person’s face after lying in the water for so long. He move a few pieces away, revealing a familiar looking face. Reaching a free hand to the crook of your neck, he believes that there’s going to be the faintest sound of a pulse. But when his skin touches the cold flesh, he can feel nothing.

+ + +

You roughly jolt awake, finding yourself letting in the deepest breath you can muster up after feeling like you’d been holding your breath for the longest time. Everything around you feels strange. But you quickly notice your clothes are dry and you’re back in the Impala, alone. Just like you were before wandering off. You wonder if this is some kind of trick Jeremey is trying to put you through. Die as many times as he wants until he finally decides it’s enough. But something feels different about this. Maybe it’s because when you try and open the doors, you notice they’re locked. You furrowed your eyebrows, knowing that didn’t happen before. It’s not much of an obstacle when you lean forward in your seat, reaching out a hand to lift up the lock, sending your door free. You drop down and happily hear the familiar squeaks of the door hinges echo through the night air.

This time you aren’t going to get sidetracked. If the boys knew you were asleep, it meant they had to be poking around in your head, and they were crawling around here. You just needed to find them before it was too late. You call out each of their names, hoping that one of them would pop out through the trees that were beginning to make you feel like a timid little thing. Woods have never been a favorite place of yours to wander around in, especially when you were having an outer body experience with a psycho would manipulate anything into happening. But you force yourself into shaking the thoughts out of your head, knowing it wasn’t helping you leverage the fight. If you knew you were dreaming, why couldn’t you wake up? You asked yourself that as you pushed a branch out of your way, trying your hardest to follow a path of footprints that you barely could make out in the darkness. You look up from the ground to see the eerily familiar looking sight, and while you can feel a dreaded sigh about to escape your lips, something stops you from what you see across the way.

“Dean?” You can’t help but whisper his name, almost wondering if you’re playing tricks on yourself. He’s a small spec from where you’re standing, but you don’t waste anytime in wandering forward when you see him crouched on the ground. Relief floods through you for a moment when you start wondering if he’s real. But as you begin to get closer, you can feel a sense of confusion creeping back to you. Though you saw him crouched on the ground, he almost doesn’t seem to notice you’re there. There’s something wrapping up in his thoughts that’s making him look so…scared. You cautiously take a step forward until you’re hovering over him. “Dean, is that you?”

You watch as his head quickly snaps up when he hears your voice. For a split second you can see the look of terror spreading across his facial expressions, like he’d just seen a ghost. But you see them soften at the sight of you standing over him, and for a split second his lips stretch into a faint smile. “What’s going on? Are you…Are you in my head?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, taking a step backward when he rises up from the ground. “Because when I woke up again, the doors were locked. And you only do that when Sam or I are sleeping in the car. So does that mean we’re awake? Is Jeremey dead?”

“Easy, tiger.” Dean says. You can feel him touch you, he presses his hands against your arms to keep you from running away from the unknown of what’s going on. He tries to explain about what was happening, how he and Sam noticed you were sleeping and decided to try and lure out Jeremey by going to sleep himself. It turns out that you might have escaped your mind, but you landed yourself right into Dean’s. You and him had shared a drink together, it was a spare of the moment thing to keep yourself awake. You didn’t realize you were going to fall asleep and land yourself in this never ending hell. “Looks like he doesn’t want you leaving, huh?”

“Shut up.” You muttered, your voice growing with aggravation as you crossed your arms over your chest. None of this was making sense. All you wanted to do was wake up. But there wasn’t a chance when you knew Sam was hunting down Jeremey on his own, which meant you and Dean needed to follow. You opened your mouth to suggest the idea, but you stopped yourself for a moment when you looked over at Dean. How he looked when you stumbled upon him crossed your mind for a second. “Hey, we should look start looking for them. I mean, your head is pretty empty all the time so we should be safe.”

Dean mocks your sarcasm as you let the smallest smile spread across your lips, almost thinking that you could have gotten out of this one without having to face another problem. But just as you and Dean turn around, that thought is back to bite you in the ass when you realize the both of you aren’t even in the woods anymore. You’re standing in a long hallway with wallpaper that camplouges itself to look like a forest, and if you glance at it quick enough, you can be fooled into thinking you were in the outdoors. There’s at least half a dozen doors around this place, but neither one of you open any of them. You glance over at Dean, beginning to wonder what this is about, but he shrugs his shoulders, confused himself about what is going on.

He says something about staying close to him before the both of you start wandering down the empty hall. It’s strange to think about the fact you’re inside the mind of a man like Dean. You really weren’t sure what you were expecting. But seeing the atmosphere—it almost feels like a motel. You wander down the hall with silence still between the both of you. You turn your head to the side for a moment, but your head quickly snaps forward when you notice all of you had been edging to a dead end. But the door you’re standing across from doesn’t stay closed for very long. You can hear the silence become pierced with the sound of creaking hinges as you watch the door slowly swing open.

Part of you is hesitant to see what lies on the other side, but you head forward when Dean takes the lead. He cautiously peeks his head to scope the room for any lurking dangers, when he sees there’s nothing there, he steps further in as you trail behind. You look around the dimly lit room to see that it’s a motel room, the one that looks exactly like the brothers are staying in. But your attention is drawn to across the room when you hear the faintest sounds of something clicking on and off.

“Jeremy?” Dean calls out, wondering if it’s the man sitting in the chair with his back turned to you both. The person doesn’t reply. You watch them turn the small lamp on and off. On and off.

You wonder if it’s the man just sitting there, waiting for the silence to fill up with curious presumptions if it’s really him or not. But you and Dean get the answer when you see the person slowly turn their head. Who you see in the dim light isn’t someone you expected to see. He pushes himself off the chair and faces the both of you, his lips stretching into the slightest smirk from the surprised look that sketches across your expressions.

“Hey, Dean.” The man says. He has the exact same voice, the exact same look. It’s Dean.

“Well,” The real Dean, the one who’s standing at your side, speaks up next. “Aren’t you a handsome son of a gun.”

“We need to talk.” Second Dean says.

“I get it. I get it.” Dean said, acting as if all of this was some joke. But you know from your own experience that this wasn’t going to end well. You can’t lie to yourself, and there’s no way of telling what might come out. “I’m my own worst nightmare. That it? Huh? Like the ‘Superman Three’ junkyard scene—a little mano y mano with myself?”

“Joke all you want smartass. But you can’t lie to me. I know the truth.” The second Dean says, and you know he’s right about that. “I know how dead you are inside, how worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror…and hate what you see.”

“Sorry, pal. It’s not gonna work.” Dean said, not fooling for the little act like you had. “You’re not real.”

“Sure I am.” Second Dean said. “I’m you.”

“I don’t think so. 'Cause, see, this is my siesta. Not yours. All I got to do is snap my fingers, and you go bye-bye.” Dean said, confidence lining in his voice. You turn your head slightly to see that he lifted up his hand to snap his fingers. When he does so, your eyes linger forward to see the second man disappear. He never does. Dean tries again, and again—but everything remains as it was. You nervously swallow, knowing that things weren’t looking up.

“I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you two.” Second Dean says. You furrow your brows from the threat. But your eyes jump to the door when you hear it slam shut, the lock clicks into place. All though when you look over at the second Dean, he isn’t playing around when you see a shotgun being lifted up from his side. “Like I said. We need to talk.”

+ + +

A teeny tiny part of you was scared. No, that would have been a complete lie—You were terrified of what was about to unfold.

You’d been on stressful hunts where you looked death straight in the eye or been forced to reveal dirty secrets about yourself that you thought would stay hidden forever. But it always had the same cut and dry routine with a monster behind the mess to lure out the nasty truth. So you were understanding the nervous ticks when you were out of your comfort zone. You were fighting on foreign territory which turned out to be Dean Winchester’s mind. And the enemy was his conscious—the thing that harbored all his secrets and aggressive thoughts he never shared. The unsettling look that was sketching across the imaginary Dean’s face made it clear you didn’t know how this was going to pan out.

“You’re going to Hell, and you won’t lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem.” Second Dean starts the taunting at himself, his lips stretching into a smirk when he sees the man stiffen in discomfort. You can see his eyes trail away from the real Dean as his smile begins to grow wider. “Oh, right. The little crap act we put on when Y/N’s around. You still think she’s gonna look at you the same when she realizes what a brainless coward you really are?” He lets out an amused chuckle, like he’s taking pleasure of tearing himself to pieces. “She’s too good for you. I mean, look at her. I still can’t believe she would make that deal to pull your ass out of the fire. How long you think it’s gonna be until she realizes your life isn’t worth saving?“

You can’t help but feel taken back from the vicious thoughts that are being brought to light. For a moment your eyes linger away from the Dean that’s standing across from you, to the real one that’s lingering by your side. "Come on, Dean.” You can hear him mumbling commands to himself as he tries to get himself out of this personal hell tailored for him. “Come on. Wake up.”

“I mean, after all, you got nothing, outside of Sam and Y/N. You are nothing.” Second Dean strikes an insult, taking a blow against the man. You can see from the corner of your eye that the real Dean feels the emotional affliction, but he doesn’t let it show. He straightens out his shoulders and stands his ground. But this was just the beginning. “You’re as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.”

“Come on,” The real Dean speaks up as he tries defending himself. “That’s not true.”

“No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? Everything that you desire—It’s all just a pitiful fantasy that’s never gonna happen. And everything you love is just recycled garbage.” Second Dean says, making the real man’s confidence begin crumbling down. “I mean, your car—that’s Dad’s. Your favorite leather jacket—Dad’s. Your music—Dad’s. Do you even have an original thought? No.” He shakes his head. “No, all there is 'Watch out for Sammy. Look after your little brother, boy.’ You can still hear your dad’s voice in your head, can’t you?” You watch as he lifts up the shotgun to his temple, the man rests the barrel against his skull for a moment. “Clear as bell.”

Dean shakes his head as he lets out a bitter sounding chuckle, “Just shut up.”

“I mean, think about it.” Second Dean doesn’t listen to the command as he begins taking small steps toward the doppelganger. He looks at the man straight in the eye, making sure to inflict the emotional wounds, getting them exactly where it would hurt. “All he ever did was train you, boss you around. But Sam…Sam, he doted on. And Y/N, well, he always made time for her, didn’t he? Always making sure she was okay after her mom passed. Sam, Y/N, he loved them.”

"I mean it.” Dean’s voice dropped to a low tone. “I’m getting angry.”

You knew all the right buttons were being pushed at this point; the real Dean could feel the words crawl underneath his skin, dragging out a response that was either going to be an outlash. Or it was going to the death of you all. But the thing standing across from him wouldn’t stop. He just kept pushing the man until there was no going back. His father had always been a trigger, and the deal that brought him back was like rubbing salt in the wound. He always beat himself up thinking that he didn’t deserve to be alive after it happened. But as time slowly passed, thought he had come to terms. Boy, were you wrong from what was being thrown around.

“Dad knew who you really were—a good soldier and nothing else. Daddy’s blunt little instrument.” Second Dean said, he shook his head in disapproval, like he was ashamed at the man he became. As he continued taunting, his voice grew harder, more aggressive to make sure each word cut deep. “Your own father didn’t care whether you lived or died. Why should she? Why should you?”

Dean couldn’t handle the truth anymore. From what he did next, it was his breaking point.

“You son of a bitch!” Dean yelled on the top of his lungs, shoving the doppelganger hard as he could, making the body roughly land against the brick wall. You watched as he landed on the desk, but Dean wasn’t done. He was letting all of his aggression, all the true anger he pinned down since he was child, all of it came out. “My father was an obsessed bastard!” Second Dean tried to make a recovery, but the real version wasn’t having it. He grabbed a hold of the gun and used it like a baseball bat, squeezing it two swings at the monster before he pinned the double against the wall by pressing the gun against his throat. He needed to do this. “All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam—that was his crap! He’s the one who couldn’t protect his family!”

Dean took his anger out again, taking a step back before he roughly hit the man a few more times until he was satisfied. “He’s the one who let Mom die! His obsession drew Ella and Y/N away!” His voice was almost shaking with anger from what he was admitting. “The bastard thought he could make up for lost time by looking out for her. But was he there when they needed him the most? No. He wasn’t there for Sam and Y/N! I always was!“ You can hear his voice break from what he was admitting, how hurt and sorrowful at the constant responsibility that was shifted on him. "It wasn’t fair! I didn’t deserve what he put on me!” All of this, all the emotions that were being thrown out was beginning to make your head spin. But what he admitted next made your heart ache. “And I don’t deserve to go to hell!”

If that wasn’t enough to show he was trying to destroy the idea of being the spineless man he’d been forced to be for so many years, the gunshot that rang inside your ears was proof enough. You let out a sudden gasp of surprise when Dean didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger on the shotgun, sending a bullet straight into the other man’s chest. You watched as his doppelganger step backwards from the fatal gunshot wound to his chest The room fell eerily silent from everything that unfolded right in front of your eyes. He was dead—the man that taunted Dean, poked fun at his own misery, was no longer alive.

A second passed before your eyes trailed away from the bloody body to the real Dean. The both of you didn’t know what to do next. You thought this would be the part where you would wake up, but nothing changed. It was a moment before you followed in suit of Dean as he took a cautious step forward to the lifeless body. You couldn’t help yourself but wonder if it were that easy to destroy an idea like that. No matter how much you bury it or try to look on the brightside of things, somehow, it always managed to come creeping back, and more terrifying than ever. This was no exception from what you saw unfold next.

The imaginary Dean really wasn’t dead; he might have destroyed the man he always grew up to be, but this creature, was the thing he was going to turn into soon enough. Dean was staring at the both of you with inky black eyes and a blood stained face. He was the demon that Dean going to become if none of you figured out a way to stop this deal.

“You can’t escape me, Dean. You’re gonna die. And this,” The second Dean stressed the word with his pitch black eyes staring directly at the man. His voice was evil, how he growled out the words with such aggression. “This is what you’re gonna become.”

All the taunting and threats were about to become a reality when you saw the thing push himself off the desk. You took a step backwards when you noticed he was about to get ready and attack his physical self. All though when you blinked, he vanished from your sight. Something pulled you and Dean out before anyone could get hurt because of this thought that involved itself into a monster that was hellbent on killing anything in it’s path. You all might have woken up in the Impala without a scratch, but deep down, you knew the emotional damage was already done.

+ + +

It’d been a few days since you wrapped up the hunt. Bobby might have been alive, and while that seemed like a perfect reason to celebrate, there were things you still couldn’t shake off. You had faced your own nightmares that were nerve wracking. But you couldn’t let go of the worry that was growing about Dean. He’d been avoiding you since arriving back that night from the forest. You weren’t sure what the reason was for. Maybe it was because you’d gotten a glimpse of his own worst fears and deepest secrets nobody, not even his own flesh and blood, knew about. But there had been something unsettling you couldn’t quite push out of your head. The terrified look that was sketched across his face, you’d seen it on so many people when they realized someone close to them had passed away. Sam looked like that after he came to the conclusion Jess was dead.

While the thought about talking to Dean had lingered around in your mind all morning, you were still trying to find the confidence to do it. You were rehearsing what you could say in order to bring up the subject, trying not to make it sound like you were snooping around even more. While you were thinking of an outcome of a conversation inside your head, you were mindlessly folding clothes back into your bag. But the sudden sound of someone knocking on your motel door brought you back into reality. You shoved the pants you were folding back into the bag as you walked over. As you opened the door a crack, you peeked your head out to see who it was. You could feel your face drop in surprise to see a certain face standing outside in the hall.

“Dean?” You asked with a bit of happiness. You cleared your throat, shifting your tone to a more casual one. “I mean, what’s up?”

"Mind if I come in?” Dean gave you a slight smile, hoping you weren’t mad at him from the way he’d been behaving. You nodded your head, stepping out of the way so he could walk inside. You watched as he headed in so you could close the door to give them privacy. He shoved his hands inside his pockets as he glanced around the room, he was acting rather awkward. You crossed your arms over your chest and raised your brow, wondering what this was about. “I—I thought this was gonna be a hell of alot easier.”

"What was?” You ask him with a bit of confusion.

“Talking to you, after, you know…” Dean tries to explain what he’s feeling, but he trails off for a moment. You bite your bottom lip and quietly nod your head when you realized what he was silently hinting around. Dean was always a private person and didn’t like his emotions out in the open like this. You understood if he wanted to try and pretended nothing happened. “You saw something back there I never wanted anyone to see, let alone, you.”

“You’re only human, Dean. Nobody expects you to be strong all the time. I see the things out there, and trust me, I know it has to scare you sometimes.” You say, trying to slowly ease your curiosity into the conversation. Part of you feels guilty for trying to dig deeper into what the man was hiding from you. But you still can’t shake the look that has been burning in the back of your mind. “And back with the demon, I know how scary it. Trust me.”

Dean was staring at the floor for a moment as you were taking, but the mention of the demon as himself brought his gaze quickly up. You got him. His mouth parts slightly open, making him look like he’s about to add something. “Well, I have to admit, that’s not the biggest thing that’s been on my mind.” He says, making your brows furrow. Dean shifts his footing as a quiet sigh escapes his lips. “I mean—Sure, I’m scared of becoming one of them if we can’t find a way out in time. Hell, I’m pretty friggin terrified. But there’s something else.”

Your tone softens, “What is it, Dean?”

“I keep having this dream about you. And it’s not the good kind.” Dean admits, and the joke sends a rosy tint to brush across your cheeks when you remember what Sam has managed to pry out of you. But all the fun is lifted from his voice when he continues. He swallows as you see his mood shifts. Here he goes. “Back when I met up with you, there was something else–another nightmare that I keep having. I find you on the ground, not breathing. And no matter what I try and do, I know in the back of mind it’s too late. You’re dead and I couldn’t save you.“

You’re taken back from the truth he admits, not expecting any of this to have been turned around to see that it was about you. That his biggest fear is really letting you slip away. You have a feeling all of this had stemmed off from the very first attempt at going through with the deal. You gotten yourself wrapped up in a hunt about fairytales that ended with you being drown in a sink full of dirty water. You could have almost died back there, but Dean saved your life. And you had been nothing but serious about thinking that it was the right thing, you didn’t even seem to stop and wonder how this would effect everyone else.

"Dean,” You start speaking again, but you close your eyes, knowing what you’re about to say is going to make him feel worse. He had been so hellbent on making sure neither you or Sam had gotten him out of this deal. But you weren’t sure what he wanted to do anymore. “You know there’s only one way out of this deal. And that’s by someone dying.”

“Really? You’re giving up on me now, Y/N?” Dean asks. You open your eyes to see that his lips are stretching into a smirk, you let out a sigh of relief as you begin to feel a smile growing across your lips. He finally came around. “You heard me back there. I’m not going to Hell. And neither are you.”

+ + +

Who knew after all these weeks of fighting like cats and dogs, Dean finally was letting someone else take control. You were feeling the pressure that had been sitting on your chest start to lift. If all of you were on board to stop this deal, there had to be something. There was always a loophole, a fine print someone had forgotten to discuss. If anything was living proof, you were nothing short of a walking billboard. You subconsciously wrapped your hand with a faint scar into a fist as you knocked a few times on the motel door of the boys’ room before you opened it, wondering where everyone was. You peeked your head inside to see the brothers and Bobby.

“Hey,” You notice that Dean’s standing across the room with his cell phone open. “You guys seen Bela? She’s not in her room. And she’s not answering her phone.”

You glance over to Sam and Bobby, wondering if they had noticed her around the motel. But they shrug their shoulders for an answer. “She must have taken off or something.” You suggesting, stepping inside the room as you close the door behind you.

“Just like that? That’s a little weird.” Dean said, he must be thinking she was up to something.

“Well, if you ask me what’s weird, it’s why she helped us in the first place.” Bobby said. You look over at him with a confused expressions beginning to settle. Bela had put on an entire act about wanting to help the man so badly after learning about his condition. You crossed your arms over your chest, having a feeling there was something more to this story.

“I thought you saved her life.” Dean mumbled to the man.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Bobby asked with a baffled tone.

“The thing in Flagstaff.” You said.

Bobby looked at you like you’d just grown a second head while saying that sentence. “That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet.” He explained. You could feel your fingernails dig into the center of your palm when he continued. “I gave her a good deal. That’s all.”

Sam was thrown off from the second side of the story that had to be true. But he looked over at you and Dean, obviously not sure why she would lie to you about such a thing. “Well, then, why did–”

“You kids better check your pockets.” Bobby said. You couldn’t help yourself but lightly pat around your jean pockets as the boys checked everywhere, wondering if everything was in check. But you stopped when Bobby let out an annoyed sigh. “Not literally.”

There was nothing special Bela could have taken from all of you, unless she wanted some dream-root form herself and what little money you carried around. But as you began to realize there was one special artifact any hunter would kill to get their hands on, your eyes lingered upward to the safe. A sense of dread began to feel you when Dean stormed over, he put in the combination and swung open the door. To your dismay, it was empty. “The colt.” Sam hissed underneath his breath. Your one chance, the only thing that could have helped, had been stolen from a woman who’d probably didn’t even know what it did. All she cared about was making a quick buck for her selfish lifestyle. You could feel your temper beginning to rise, but you force yourself to take a deep breath. “Bela stole the colt.”

“Damn it, boys!” Bobby yelled out with anger.

“Pack your crap.” Dean suddenly commanded, nodding his head at you and Sam.

“Why?” You questioned him, watching as he stormed across the room. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna go hunt the bitch down.”

+ + +

You still had a few more things to pack and there’s was speaking quickly to Bobby that was the reason for making the boys to start running behind schedule. Dean threw the last duffel bag into the trunk, making room for whatever else that needed to be placed inside. He looked out from the corner of his eyes to see that Sam was heading out, placing one last thing inside. Both of them had been fairly quiet about what happened back in the woods. All though Dean was curious to know about a few things since his brother had wandered off his own.

“Hey, Sam, I was wondering,” Dean began the conversation between the both of them. “When you were in my head, what did you see?”

“Uh, just Jeremy. He kept me separated from you. Easier to beat my brains out that way, I guess.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders as his brother began to physically relax from hearing the news. He didn’t have to explain anything or deal with the man’s cushioned approach at trying to deal with problems. Dean shoved a hand inside his jacket pocket to pull out his keys, he took one step toward the driver’s side, but he could feel himself immediately stop in his tracks when he looked up in time to see Sam was standing there with a grin, all of a sudden. It looked like he knew a secret. He let out a sigh. “Did you ever plan on telling me, Dean?”

“About what?” Dean brushes off the question with another.

Sam’s lips stretch even farther, “Dude, come on. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t have time for this crap.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.

Dean started heading for the driver’s side again, trying to ignore his brother, but he knows there’s no way of getting out of this one when his brother follows until the both of them are standing on opposite sides of the car. Sam leans over so his arms are resting on the hood. His amusement is subsiding to curiosity, which makes Dean feel a bit more confident his brother isn’t going to turn this into a joke. But he might have judged too soon. “So, Y/N…Who would have thought someone like you would—” Dean immediately threw his brother a dirty glare, which caused Sam to throw his hands up in a defensive mood, a smile stretching across his lips. “I’m kidding. Besides, it’s not all that shocking to me. I’ve been having a feeling there was something there for a while now.”

"What are you talking about?” Dean asked, knowing he’d been so quiet about everything for as long as he could. But his brother shook his head as he let out a small laugh.

“The way you act around her, it reminds me…of the time I spent with Jess.” Sam said, his lips stretch into the faintest frown when he was reminded of his past love. “She always made me feel normal, I would have done anything to protect her. And I can understand why you’ve been so hard on Y/N for making that deal. You don’t want her to die.”

Dean’s taken back from his brother’s last statement, he knows it’s dancing lightly around the deal that is lingering around. He has yet to tell his brother about him changing his mind. Now seems like the right time. “Yeah, I guess. But, Sam, I’ve been doing some thinking. And, well, the thing is…” He starts speaking the truth that his brother had been wanting to hear. Sam stares at him, wondering what the man is trying to say. Dean hesitates a bit more, but he finally forces himself to say it. “You’re right. I don’t want Y/N to die—But I don’t want to die, either. I don’t want to go Hell.”

Sam suddenly falls silent for a moment from what his brother had admitted. He hadn’t expected to hear this from someone who had been dead set on cutting his life so short. But he turns his head slightly to see you finally coming out of the motel, you raise a hand a wave at them, a smile growing across your lips. “Yeah.” Sam mumbled as he looked over at his brother again. “Of course. We’ll find a way to save you.”

Dean couldn’t help himself but let out a sigh of relief, suddenly happy to have everything off his chest. There was no more secrets to be kept between anyone, and for once, there might have been a light at the end of the tunnel that didn’t look like hellfire.

+ + +


"You can’t escape me, Dean. You’re gonna die. And this—this is what you’re gonna become!”

Dean could hear the familiar words buzz around in his mind with those inky black eyes staring at him. He pulled himself out of his nightmares again, forcing his eyelids open to wonder where he ended up. Dean found himself staring up at the motel ceiling with almost everything around him in complete silence. He began remembering all of you had spent almost a full day driving around, trying to figure out where Bela might have ended up. But with a few whines about needing sleep and an internet connection to continue the search, he finally pulled up to a motel and booked two rooms for the next few days. You and Sam were fixated on researching her whereabouts by tracking her phone and credit cards and making a list of contacts potential clients she could be making deals to sell the colt to. If she was out there, you all would find her.

But Bela is the last thing on his mind when he begins to wonder why there’s so much pressure on the other side of the bed. Dean slowly lingers his gaze from the ceiling and onto the left side of him, wondering what’s going on. Relief floods through him when he realizes that there’s nothing serious there all before he can feel his lips stretching into the faintest smile at what he sees. You had crashed on one of the beds after fighting off sleep for the past few days. Dean had made a compromise to let you hog the bed for a little while before kicking you out. Of course when he was hit with exhaustion himself, he didn’t think much about it. Now you were resting in the crook of his arm with your hand resting on his chest as you laid there with your eyes closed.

“You gonna wake her?” Sam’s voice breaks the man from his concentration on you. He looks over to see that his brother is sitting at the small table with his laptop open and another cocky grin spreading across his face. Dean rolls his eyes, suddenly regretting what he told the man. "I have to admit, you two are pretty cute.” Dean opens his mouth, trying to figure out a comeback, but he falls for their same routine they’ve been using for too many years.



Ever so softly they hear, “Idiots.”

Chapter Text

Muffled sounds coming from somewhere in the motel room caused the blissful trance of slumber becoming nothing more than a dream when you found yourself stirring awake. You let out a frustrated groan when you felt the vibrations of a loud noise coming from the wall behind you, and paired with the birds that were chirping outside your window at this early in the morning, you cursed at the world. You were having a wonderful dream about something nice, for once, and some ass and stupid birds that thought it was spring had to disrupt it. You rolled around in the motel bed until you were lying on your side so you could see the clock, which read 7:32 in the morning. It was about an hour before you and the brothers agreed to get up on this Tuesday morning. You pulled the sheets over your head when the volume coming from the other room suddenly started to become even noisier. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your temper.

“The heat of the moment
Heat of the moment shone in your eyes…”

You pressed your eyelids shut as an arm snaked out of the covers, you made a fist before it roughly slammed itself against the wall, hoping that Dean would get the picture. You waited a few moments, nothing changed. Rolling your eyes in frustration, you ripped off the sheets and swung your legs over the bed, deciding to take matters into your own hands. You exited your own room as you took a few steps before you were standing in front of the one you were looking for. Not even deciding to be polite, you banged as loud as you could against the door, continuing the noise until someone finally answered. You let out a breath through your nose when you saw who had answered it, Dean himself. He was slightly taken back from the rude awakening, but his expression calmed down when he saw it was just you standing outside, still in your pajamas with bedhead that didn’t look too pretty

“Where’s the fire, Y/N?” Dean asked with a chipper sounding voice, even this early in the morning. While if this was any other scenario, you might have been glad to see him in such good spirits. But you gave the man a glare.

“Turn your crappy music down.” You ordered as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Some of us still want to sleep.”

Dean didn’t seem too shaken from your tone as he opened up the door wider so you could see inside. Your eyes trailed around the room when you heard someone let out a chuckle. Sam was still lying in bed, evidence making it seem like he was given a rude awakening himself from the music, but he was far from angry now, he was now finding your reaction of the situation a little too amusing for his own good. While you narrowed your eyes at the man, Dean brought your attention back to him from his question that threw you off guard. “Come on, Y/N. Don’t you like a little Asia in the morning?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, not getting the reference he was trying to clearly make. “What’s that supposed to even mean?” It was a simple question, but you didn’t have the patience to hear the answer. Dean barely managed to open his mouth before you were speaking again. “You know what? I don’t really care. Just turn your damn music down or else.“

Dean leaned himself against the doorframe with a smirk spreading across his lips, he crossed his arms over his chest, mimicking you. “Or else what?” Dean asked, pushing for an answer, his voice lined with light humor to see where this argument could go.

You stood there for a moment, trying to think of a proper response that would at least put this conversation to bed. But with nothing coming out, you finally closed your mouth, a huffed our breath escaped when Dean’s smile began to grow a bit wider. There was no caffeine in your system just yet, which meant there was going to be no perfect insult just waiting to jump off the tip of your tongue. You only managed to give him a dirty glare before going back to your motel to get ready for the day. But before you slipped inside, you weren’t going to let Dean have the satisfaction of having the last words. “Bite me, Winchester!” seemed like a decent enough response before you slammed the door shut.

+ + +

Everyone was showered and dressed in clean clothes, you made sure to brush your teeth before putting on your putting on the usual gear. You headed back over to the boys’ room as the clock began to tick towards to the time you all were going to meet. Sam was dressed and ready, eager to get something in his stomach this morning. You were beginning to come around to the idea of a warm breakfast and coffee, but before either one of you could head on the journey, a certain someone stopped you from heading anywhere. Dean insisted that he couldn’t go anywhere until he found his gun. For a man tirelessly stressing of how important it was to keep organized and never leave anywhere without a weapon, he sure was looking like hypocrite. He looked through the counter tops of the kitchen to moving his sights on the duffel bag sitting on his bed. Still, there was no precious gun to be seen.

You glanced over at the clock and let out an obnoxious sigh when you saw how late it was getting. "Whenever you’re ready, Dean.”

But it seemed while on the hunt, Dean stumbled upon something neither one of you were expecting. He pulled out what appeared to be a black bra that was buried deep in his duffel bag, probably from a fellow friend he crossed paths with weeks ago. Dean turned his head to look at you and his brother, “This yours?” He asked the both of you, which was responded with was an annoyed eye roll from his brother as you gave him another dirty look. He tossed it across the room, letting out a chuckle before he continued the search again. It took another moment before you finally saw the familiar gun being pulled out. One inspection of the ammo later, Dean finally was ready. “Bingo. Now, who’s ready for breakfast?”

+ + +

Luckily it didn’t take you all to find somewhere to find a spot for breakfast, choosing a little diner nestled in town that didn’t seem too busy with the crowd. You stepped inside and looked around for a moment to see there was an old man that was paying for his meal and an obviously loner who was paying for a coffee in change. The brothers snagged the middle booth inside the place, you took the seat closest to the window as Sam plopped himself down next you, letting Dean sit by himself. You adjusted yourself in your seat and looked over at the menu that hung above, while you were deciding Dean pointed a finger at the special.

“Hey, Tuesday.” He said with a growing smile, as if he was amused by it. “Pig n’ a poke.”

You glanced over at what he was looking at, it didn’t sound too appetizing. “Do you even know what that is?” You asked him, curious to figure out what it was yourself.

Dean only manages to give you a look before your waitress came strolling over; she looked about middle aged with a name tag that says Dorris. The woman seemed friendly enough and prepared with her pen and pad ready to take down your orders. “Are you kids ready?”

“Yes.” Dean answers for you all. “I’ll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee.”

“Um,” You leaned forward in your seat, quickly skimming the menu before deciding what you’d wanted for breakfast. Telling the woman you ordered, you watched as she quickly wrote it down before dotting it with a period. “And before I forget, a coffee, too. Please.”

“Make it three coffees and a short stack.” Sam added his order in, Doris jotted it down.

You watched for a moment as the waitress gave you all a smile before he headed off to behind the counter, she put the order in making the waiting game only begin. You leaned back in your seat when you heard Dean start speaking freely when the coast was clear, and from what he was saying, it was obvious the man still wasn’t very happy about working on another case while a certain someone was roaming free. “I’m telling you Sam,this job is small-fry.” He said, complaining yet again. “We should be spending our time hunting down Bela.”

“Okay, sure. Let’s get right on that.” You agreed, nodding your head in agreement. While you weren’t too pleased with the lack of movement you were able to gain on the woman, you weren’t going to twiddle your thumbs and wait for the woman to give you all a clue of where she was hiding out. But even if you could pin her down, you knew she would be on the move, hiding somewhere else. “Where is she again?“

Dean mocked you, obviously not in the mood to start this banter, knowing it was going to end up with him being wrong. "Shut up.” He grumbled underneath his breath. You retaliated by pretending to rub your nose, but you rested your middle finger as a subtle way to flip him off. The both of you acted like children for a moment before wandering eyes quickly made you drop your hand in embarrassment.

“Believe me, I want to find her as much as you do.” Sam said. He reached a hand inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a small pile of papers as he showed them to Dean, all before dropping them to the table. “In the meantime, we have this.”

“Alright, so this professor you keep yapping about…” Dean said, trailing off for a moment as he reached out a hand, resting it on the papers, dragging it forward to him before he grabbed the newspaper clipping. He skimmed it for a moment before his eyes flickered up toward Sam, waiting for the rest of this story.

“Dexter Hasselback. He was passing through last week when he vanished.” Sam explained, his brother looked at him, as he was waiting for the reason why this man was so important to waste effort on. “His daughter says he was on his way to visit the Broward County mystery spot.”

Dean shuffled through the small pile of papers until he pulled out a dull yellow that was a pamphlet advertising the mystery spot. His face scrunched up in the tackiness as he skimmed through it, when he flipped to the back, he let out a quiet scoff. “‘Where the laws of psychics have no meaning.’ Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean mumbled underneath his breath,

He looked up and stared at you two with an expression that was written with disbelief at how tacky sounding it was. You and Sam shrugged your shoulders, not thinking much more of it as you saw Dorris coming back from the corner of your eye. And like the wonderful waitress she was, three cups of hot coffee. She handed them out, which you eagerly grabbed and reached for the packets of sugar along with a handful of the small creamers. “Three coffees—black. And some hot sauce for the…” She reached out a hand for the small bottle, but by accident, it wobbled around and jumped off the tray, crashing to the ground. You winced slightly at the impact knowing well enough the glass bottle had broken up and splattered all over the floor. Dorris turned her head to look at the three of you with an apologetic smile. “Whoops. Sorry.” You gave her a polite smile and drank your coffee, silently hoping she wasn’t clumsy enough to drop your food. "Clean up!”

+ + +

After a decent breakfast, you and the brothers were off again, the topic still on whether if this hunt was really worth your time. People go missing all the time, sometimes they just don’t want to be found. While you decided it wouldn’t hurt to see where it would go, Dean still had trouble latching on to a reasonable excuse of why his brother was so adamant on checking this thing out. You walked down the street, half listening to the conversation that was going on while observing the surroundings around you. Your head turned to the side when you heard barking, you noticed a golden retriever was tied to a bike post, trying to get anyone’s attention. All of you gave it a stare before you walked off, the dog whimpered before it ultimately calmed down a second later.

Sam’s attention still seemed focused on the pamphlet as his brother went on talking, not seeming to be listening himself about what Dean was trying to say. Dean rolled his eyes, snatching the paper away from the man so he could take a closer look at it himself, yet again. “Sam, you know joints like this are only tourist traps, right? I mean, you know, balls rolling uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling.” He said, listing off a few excuses. “The only danger to your wallet.”

“Okay, look. I’m just saying there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people—the Bermuda Triangle, the Oregon vortex.” Sam said. You had to admit those places were quite famous for spooky stories that seemed almost too good to be true. But when you looked around at this small town, you were quietly wondering if this place really had anything special hidden underneath all the family owned shops and quiet looking demor.

“And you think Broward County mystery spot is the next big thing?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask, your tone was teasing him, which only lead him to give you a glare from doubting him. You let out a quiet chuckle at his reaction. “Well, I agree with you on some of these places being legit. Maybe we’ve stumbled upon the next big thing.”

Dean let out a quiet sigh from what he was about to say next. “All right, so it is legit—and that’s a big-ass 'if'—what’s the lore?”

Sam opened his mouth to start explaining, but he stopped when a woman passed Dean, accidentally bashing shoulders, making him stumble backwards. She gave him a quick glance before mumbling, “Excuse me” from the accident before she went off on her way down the street.

“The lore’s pretty freaking nuts, actually.” Sam said, picking up on his train of thought as all of you continued down the street. “I mean, they say this places, the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend space-time, sending victims no one knows where.”

“Sounds a little 'X Files’ to me.” Dean said, still not seeming convinced.

“I told you it wouldn’t fit!”

“What do you want, a pulitzer?”

You snapped your head to the side from the strange sounding conversation you overheard while passing. You noticed two movers were having trouble moving a fairly large desk that was obviously not going to fit through the narrow space of the office they were trying to get in. It was like the three stooges, but each of them got an extra ounce of stupid to make up for the short member. “All right, look,” Sam said, looking one more time at the movers before speaking. “I’m not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we got to check it out, see if we can do something.”

“All right, all right.” Dean mumbled, finally giving into his brother’s wishes about participating in the hunt. “We’ll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look.”

+ + +

Just like you all had planned out, when darkness fell and it became hours after closing, you and the boys headed over the mystery spot to see what was so fascinating about it. For the outside it seemed nothing too flashy, but after Sam picked the lock and opened the door the inside, you couldn’t help but let out a laugh, your flashlight glancing over the neon green paint that was everywhere and a black spiral, obviously trying to impersonate those old hypnotizing techniques seen in old cartoons. As you and the brothers traveled further into the place, you had only seen the tip of the crazy from what you saw in the next room. Half of a horse was peeking out from a wall, and just like Dean had said, furniture was nailed to the ceiling. Sam wasted no time in scanning the entire room for any EMF, but you could only hear the low humming come from the reader as he ventured in deeper.

“Find anything?” Dean asked his brother, taking his attention away from the lopsided table. Sam shook his head as he continued on searching for evidence. You and Dean looked over at one another for a second, wondering if this really might have been a waste of time. “Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?”

“Um…yeah.” Sam said, nodding his head. You narrowed your eyes at him, curious to know the real answer. “No.”

Shaking your head, you focused your attention back to examining the place, wondering if there was something in the tacky design of this place that could tell you what was going on. You turned your back around to the boys as you examined a shark’s head that peeked out from the wall. This place was getting weirder and weirder with each passing moment. As you turned around to examine more, you could feel your head quickly snapping forward when a foreign voice boomed through the eerily quiet room. “What the hell are you doing here?” You noticed from his outdated clothes and hefty looking gun, accompanied with a panicked expression on his face, you and the boys had just met the owner of this place. And it seemed he wasn’t too happy about the fact you were peeking around here after hours to get a free showing without his permission.

“Whoa.” Dean had been pointing his own gun from the sudden disturbance, but when he realized it was just the owner, he backed down before someone could get hurt. “We can explain.”

“You robbing me?” He questioned you all, swinging the gun toward Sam.

“Look,” Sam tried to get the man to his senses. “Nobody’s robbing you. Calm down.”

Dean tried doing the right thing by lowering his gun to show that you all meant no harm. But that seemed to have been a fatal move. Because the next thing you heard was him warning Dean about not moving, the gun quickly shifting over from Sam to Dean, all though in the change of scenery, the owner pressed the trigger too early. You didn’t know what was going on before it was too late. The sound of a gunshot echoed through the room, and without much realization, maybe it was the shock of everything that was happening, the bullet landed directly in your chest.

Everyone was in shock from what’s just happened, wondering who was left standing from the accidental attack. The owner looked like a deer in headlights as the brothers glanced over at each other, knowing well enough they weren’t harmed, which left another suspect. You were lying on the concrete ground, trying to cling toward whatever life you had left as the blood began filling up your lungs. Sam and Dean quickly pulled themselves out of their thoughts and stumbled down to your aid, hoping it wasn’t too late. After all the fighting and bickering, Dean finally admitting he wanted a way out of the deal, this is how it was going to end.

“Call 911.” Sam commanded at the owner, breaking him from his shock of everything that was going on. He tried stuttering out an excuse of not meaning to do this, but Sam wasn’t in the mood to hear it. He could hear you choking on your own blood as you tried speaking. “Now!“ Sam watched for a split second as the owner went rushing off, giving in to the commands before he focused his attention on you, who was now lying in Dean’s arms, living out whatever moments you had left. He could feel tears beginning to prick his eyes from what was happening. "No, Y/N. Not like this.”

Sam reached out a hand to wrap around your own. He could feel you squeeze it hard as you could, trying to let him know you were fighting. But as the seconds passed by, he could feel it getting looser as your eyelids were slowly drifting downward. He knew everyone’s worst fears had come true at the realization when he saw you weren’t breathing anymore. This had to be some kind of bad dream he was going through, and at any given moment, he was going to wake up, and none of this happened. But you know what they say; be careful what you wish for. Because you just might regret it.

+ + +:

Sam woke up with a fright, pulling himself out of his sleep and shot right up in bed. He cautiously looked around the room to see that it was morning; the same song was playing, Dean was sitting on the bed beside him, tying up his boots. He was even wearing the same outfit—and the same song was playing. “Rise and shine, Sammy!” His brother called out, all before mentioning the group that was playing with a smile. Sam mumbled out his brother’s name in a worried tone, but that only made the man say something about him loving this song, and up the volume went to annoy him. A few seconds later, he heard the pounding on the wall, all before your voice coming from the other side. Dean ignored your annoyance as he mouthed along to the music, getting up from the bed and continuing on with the morning routine. A moment later, there was a knock.

This was strange. Everyone followed exactly like he remembered; you and Dean arguing about the music, each word from his dream was exact to the point, up to where you slammed the door shut. Sam shook his head, trying his hardest not to think much about it, blaming the coincidence on something else that hasn’t happened in a very long time. Maybe it was back. He tried not thinking much more about it as he continued on with his morning, getting dressed and heading to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Most of it went on his normal, but he couldn’t help but feel like this was eerily familiar. His brother gargling water seemed extra obnoxious this morning, because he had seen this happen before. Dean seemed to notice his brother’s stare, he leaned over the sink to spit out the water, all before glancing over at him, wondering what was wrong.

“You alright?” Dean asked his little brother.

It was a simple question, but Sam seemed stumped to answer. “No, I think,” Sam tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t worry his brother. But his brain seemed to have kicked toward an explanation that caused him to let out a sigh of relief, followed by a quiet chuckle. “Man, I had a weird dream.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked, pretending to be curious. He opened up his mouth and picked at something in his teeth before looking over at his brother. “Clowns or midgets?”

+ + +

Sam was trying to convince himself that everything was okay. But he was beginning to grow more concerned about what was going on when you all stepped inside the exact same diner, saw the exact same old man that was paying for his breakfast and saw the same loner sitting at the counter, even the same waitress was helping him. Sam seemed distracted by his own thoughts that when he glanced over at the booth, you and Dean were sitting in the same seats. He took a seat, but his concentration was still hooked on what was going across the room.

“Hey. Tuesday. Pig ‘n a poke.”

“Do you even know what that is?”

Sam turned his head forward when he heard the conversation continue on. He caught sight of Dean’s thrown off expression from your question as you sat there with a growing smile. “It’s Tuesday?” Sam asked with confusion. You looked over at him and nodded your head, all before giving him a concerned look from how he was acting all morning. But you never got the chance to bring up the conversation when the waitress came over, Dorris, the same one from yesterday. You and Dean ordered like it was like any other day, all though Sam brushed off the chance to eat, suddenly lost his appetite from everything that was happening. She gave him a smile before nodding her head, walking back to behind the counter.

“I’m telling you, Sam, this job is small-fry. We should be spending our time hunting down Bela.” Dean said, bringing up the conversation about wasting time on a hunt he thought didn’t matter. But Sam wasn’t listening, he was lost in his own thoughts. His brother seemed to have noticed because his head snapped forward when Dean began snapping his fingers. “Hey. You with me?”

Sam looked at his brother with a peculiar expression, “What?”

“You sure you feel okay?” You asked with concern.

He didn’t understand what was going on. You and Dean were acting like nothing was out of the ordinary here, carrying on a conversation he could swear happened before. But the both of you just stared at him, wondering what was making him act so dazed and confused. Sam decided to come clean, hoping either one of you could explain what was going on. “You don’t…” He tried starting the sentence, but he trailed off, suddenly thinking he was going to sound like an idiot. “You two don’t remember any of this?”

You furrowed your brow from his question. “Remember what?”

“This. Today. Like—Like it’s,” Sam tried to explain. “Like it’s happened before?”

Dean stared at him like he’d grown a second head while finishing his thought. But you seemed to try and make sense of what he was hinting at. You pointed a finger into the air as you rested your elbow on the table. Your lips stretched into a slight smile. “You mean like deja vu?” You asked him, wondering if that’s what was making him so paranoid.

“No. I mean like it’s,” Sam said, shaking his head. “Like it’s really happened before.”

“Yeah.” You agreed, repeating the same answer. “It’s deja vu.”

“No. Forget about deja vu, Y/N.” Sam said, trying to make you drop the topic all together. “I’m asking you two if it feels like—like we’re living yesterday all over again.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, your mind not wrapping around the point he was clearly not getting to. “Okay, how is that not—”

“Don’t!” Sam suddenly snapped at you, flinching at even hearing the same word all over again. This wasn’t helping his nerves that were stretching themselves thin. “Don’t say it! Just don’t even…” You narrowed your eyes at him, wondering what was making him so jumpy this morning. He had been acting strange since leaving the motel, but before you could ask him, the waitress came back with the round of coffee.

“Coffee—black, and some hot sauce for the,” Dorris leaned over the table to put down the steamy cups of coffee on the table. But Sam’s attention lingered away from the table when he saw the nearly empty glass bottle titter over at the edge, his eyes widening slightly when he saw it jump off. “Whoops! Crap!” A familiar gasp escaped the woman from the near fatal accident on her part, all though before it could fall to the floor, Sam quickly reached out an arm and grabbed the bottle. While everyone seemed impressed with the move, he couldn’t help but feel scared. Dorris broke out into a smile when she grabbed the bottle from the man. “Thanks!”

Sam took his attention away from the bottle, too afraid to realize how he could have done that. Even though in the back of his mind he knew it was going to happen, he refused to believe it, until you brought it back up with a compliment. “Nice reflexes.” You said, giving him a smile. Sam looked over at you and swallowed in nervousness. He knew it was going to happen.

+ + +

There was something strange going on with Sam this morning. He’d been acting off, almost paranoid, since leaving the motel and even worse at the diner. The man had been going on about reliving the same day over again, and while you tried helping him explain that it might have been the popular feeling of deja vu, he shot you down with a snarky tone. Now you and the boys were walking down the street and back to the Impala. Sam wasn’t acting any better with some fresh air in his lungs. He skipped breakfast and somehow caught a bottle of hot sauce from breaking into tiny pieces. Maybe it was his hunter skills that made him quick to notice, but he denied that possibility. You looked away from observing the town to see that Sam was looking over his shoulder, staring at a barking dog that was tied to a bike rack. He was observing the dog with the same exact look he’d had burned on his face all morning. You nudged him with your arm, pulling the man out of his thoughts as Dean spoke up.

“Sam, I’m sorry.” Dean said. “But I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Okay, look.” Sam tried his hardest to explain everything, but with each passing moment, he was beginning to sound even crazier. Maybe it was stress from previous hunts and new challenges everyone was taking on that was making the man have a mental breakdown. But you stayed quiet, listening to his logic. “Yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday, too.”

You turned your head slightly to glance over at Dean, the both of you shared the same looks of concerned from what the younger man was saying. “Yeah. No. Good.” Dean mumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm from what he said next. “You’re totally balanced.”

“So you guys don’t believe me?” Sam questioned you.

Dean let out a forced laugh, obviously from how his brother was staring at him and his hard tone, he really thought something was wrong. He opened his mouth to say something, but something roughly bashed against his shoulder, causing him to turn and look at who accidentally bumped into him. A blonde woman mumbled an excuse me before she walked down the street and on her way. Sam furrowed his brows from what happened and looked over his shoulder with a peculiar fascination. “Look, I’m just saying that it’s crazy, you know? Even for us crazy. Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy.” Dean said, finally getting to the point of what he was trying to say.

“Hey,” You said, the thought of an explanation crossed your mind. It’d been awhile since the man had one of his visions, and he didn’t complain of any migraines, but maybe it could help with figuring out what was going on. “Maybe it was another one of your psychic premonitions.”
“No. No way. Way too vivid.” Sam mumbled, brushing off the theory as you rolled your eyes from how stubborn he was being. “Okay, look. We were at the mystery spot, and then…” He trailed off in thought, you looked over at him, wondering what happened next. But he ignored your stares as he tried thinking of something he obviously didn’t want to tell you. “I woke up.” He was trying to cover up his tracks, but your attention drifted away from him for a moment as you glanced over at two movers that were trying to fit a desk through a door. It was like the three stooges, and they split the idiocy to substitute the missing member. “Wait a minute! The mystery spot. You think maybe it…”

“Maybe what?” You asked him.

“We got to go check that place out.” Sam said, ignoring your question all together. You and Dean looked over at him with an annoyed expression, suddenly taking ahold of everything, which wasn’t like him, but he was acting strange. And you were beginning to grow concerned. “Just go with me on this, guys.”

“All right. All right.” Dean said, finally giving into his brother’s commands. “We’ll go after close, get ourselves a nice, long look.”

Sam content with the change in plans, all for a split second, before he was snapping his head at his brother when the words registered in his mind. “Wait. What? No.” He quickly said, you narrowed your eyes at him. How he was acting was beginning to make your neck hurt from the whiplash at his never ending changes about a plan of action.

“My God,” You grumbled out. “Why not?”

“Uh, let’s just go now. Right now. Business hours.” Sam suggested, breaking out into a smile from his plan that seemed like he was making up as he went along. You furrowed your brows from how he was acting. He really was acting freaky. “Nice and crowded.”

“My God, you’re a freak.” Dean insulted his brother, but the younger man mumbled his name, obviously not in the mood for banter. Dean rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh,knowing there was no choice in going along with the new plan, yet again. "Okay! Whatever. We’ll go now.“

Dean headed out first, you lingered behind a moment to give the younger brother a concerned look. It was bugging you all morning of why he was acting like such a paranoid and cluttered minded man, someone that Sam wasn’t. He only acted like this when there was something wrong. But as you walked forward to start the conversation to start joining the other brother, the thought quickly died when you turned your head forward and back on the road to see the tragedy unfold right in front of your eyes. Everything happened so fast. Dean was just heading across the crosswalk, minding his own business, but halfway across, he didn’t seem to notice the car flying by at an ungodly speed. He was standing there for one second and poof, another second passed and he was up in the air like a flying ragdoll.

You could hear his body crash against the pavement with a crunching sound that didn’t seem all too pleasing. Sam stopped in his tracks from the scene that had unfolded right beneath his eyes, but you couldn’t help yourself but rush forward. All this fighting, the bickering, and this is how it was going to end. Dropping to your knees, you used all your strength to turn the man over, silently hoping there wasn’t bad enough damage. But when you saw that his face was skinned and bloody, things weren’t looking good for the man. You looked up to see the car that hit Dean was parked halfway across the street, you saw it was the old man from the diner.

You could hear his body crash against the pavement with a crunching sound that didn’t seem all too pleasing. Sam stopped in his tracks from the scene that had unfolded right beneath his eyes, but you couldn’t help yourself but rush forward. All this fighting, the bickering, and this is how it was going to end. Dropping to your knees, you used all your strength to turn the man over, silently hoping there wasn’t bad enough damage. But when you saw that his face was skinned and bloody, things weren’t looking good. You looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was just standing there, watching everything unfold. But that was until you snapped him out of his thoughts when you called out his name.

“Call 911!” You nearly screamed at him. But Sam just stared at you with the expression that was written with just peculiar confusion. Maybe he was just in shock. “Sam, what the hell?” You looked down at Dean, a near sob escaping your throat when you saw that his chest wasn’t moving, there was nothing more left to him except a pair of dead eyes that stared at you. "Jesus–He’s dead!”

+ + +

Somehow, Sam woke up again after hearing those words. He was laying in bed with the exact same song playing, and the exact same cheerful words echoing through the motel. Dean didn’t seem to notice that his brother was silently freaking out from everything that was happening, but the morning continued on like always. The same argument, his brother obnoxiously gargling, and they chose the same diner. He was clearly not in a dream anymore. Sam sat in the booth of the diner, ignoring the same conversation he heard three times already between you and his brother about the damn special. He was confused, scared and he needed support from you both.

“Would you listen to me, guys?” Sam asked you both, breaking the concentration. You and Dean looked over at him with confusion from his sudden shift of tone. “Because I am flipping out.” Doris came over just a few seconds later to disrupt them, he quickly ordered for you both, the exact same meal you’d been ordering for three days straight. The waitress seemed a bit taken back from his rush, but Sam didn’t really care. He watched as she ventured back to behind the counter, giving you all a chance of privacy for a moment. He itched to get back toward the conversation, but his brother sneaked in a comment just to piss him off without realizing it.

“Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that.” Dean couldn’t help but say, making a joke to lighten up the mood. You cracked the slightest smile, Sam gave his brother a serious glare.

“Quit screwing around, Dean.” Sam snapped at his brother.

“Okay. Okay. I’m listening.” Dean said, leaning forward in his eat, obviously knowing his brother was in the mood. He was finally getting to the topic the man had been talking about on the way here to the diner. “Now, you think that you’re in some kind of what?”

“Time loop.” Sam explained, yet again.

You thought about it for a moment from what the man was saying. All before, this time, you finally gave him an example that he could work with. “Oh. Like the movie, ‘Groundhog Day.’”

“Yes. Exactly. LIke 'Groundhog Day.’” Sam said, his eyes lighting up. You and Dean nodded your heads, but still, you both were looking at him like he was talking nonsense. The feeling of hope popped like a balloon. “So you guys don’t believe me?”

Dean let out a chuckle, you gave the young man a nervous smile. “It's—It’s a little crazy. Even-for-us crazy.” Dean said, just like he did when you all were walking down the street. He knew what the man was going to say next before Dean got it out. “You know, like—”

“Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy?” Sam finished after his brother.

His brother looked at his with surprise, “How’d you know I was going to say that?”

“Because you’ve said it before, Dean.” Sam said. “That’s my whole point.”

Of course, just a moment later, the waitress came back with a tray of two coffees and hot sauce. And like he predicated, Sam reached out a hand at the right time when Dorris winced, waiting for the collateral damage, but it never came when Sam managed to grab the bottle without it shattering. Handing it back to the woman, she thanked him and went off on her way. Sam let out a frustrated breath when you noted about his good reflexes, he looked over at you with an annoyed expression, tired of having to explain this over and over again.

“No.” He said, yet again. “I knew it was gonna happen.”

“Okay, look.” Dean spoke up, trying to be the voice of reason. “I’m sure that there’s some sort of explanation.”

"You’re just gonna have to go with me on this, all right, guys? You just have to. You owe me that much.” Sam said to each of you, not bothering to care about being polite anymore. He was scared of what was going to happen, and he didn’t care what he had to do so he couldn’t relive this nightmare all over again if something were to happen to either one of you.

“Calm down.” You whispered when you began to notice wandering eyes.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! I can’t calm down! I can’t because,” Sam yelled at you, losing his patience with everything that was happening. But he stopped himself when he knew what was going to be out next. He sucked in a deep breath, suddenly seeing flashbacks again. Your angry scowl was slowly drifting away as you began looking at him with concern again. You asked him what was wrong, not even knowing how serious it was. This was like ripping off a band aid, sure it was going to hurt like hell, but it needed to be done. “Because you die today, Y/N.”

You were taken back from the news, but you tried downplaying it with a shrug. “I’m not gonna die.” You said, brushing it off with an eye roll. “Well, no today. Look at all the other attempts I tried back then. And I’m still here.”

“I’ve watched you die another day, Y/N. Yesterday I saw Dean die. And I can’t handle it.” Sam said, finally admitting the truth. You were reaching for your coffee, but you stopped mid motion from what he said next. You were now looking at him with concern, like you were really believing him. “I won’t do it again, okay? And you’re just gonna have to believe me. Please.”

“All right.” Dean agreed, you nodded your head as your answer for Sam. “I still think you’re nuts, but…whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.”

+ + +

Everything was the same walking down the street; the barking dog that was tied to the bike rack, the woman mumbling excuse me when she accidentally bumped into Dean and the same movers arguing about how to get a desk into the door. Sam really was reliving this day all over again, and for the third time, he was beginning to twitch in nervousness, wondering when it was going to end.

“And you think this cheesy-ass tourist trap has something to do with it?” Dean asked.

“Maybe it’s the real deal, you know?” Sam said, trying to make sense with the same questions that were being asked by his brother. “The—The magnetic fields bending space-time or whatever.”

“That all seems a little too 'X-Files’ for me.” Dean mumbled, just like yesterday.

“Well, I don’t know how else to explain it, Dean!” Sam yelled at his brother.

“All right! All right.” Dean said, trying to calm down his brother with a plan of action. “We’ll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look.”

“No, no, no.” Sam said, stopping his brother from even suggesting that idea. “We can’t.”

“My God, why not?” You grumbled. Sam looked over at you, he tried his hardest to explain the reason why, but the words didn’t come out quite right. It was a series of mumbled words and facial expressions before you got what he was hinting around. “Oh, let me guess, I die there?”

Sam averted his gaze away from you. “Blown away, actually.”

You blinked a few times before you swallowed slightly, knowing well enough nobody wanted to see that happen. Dean let out a noise, obviously given an unpleasant thought about the situation. “Huh. Okay. Let’s go now.” He suggested. Dean started to head forward to the crosswalk first, looking both ways before taking the next step. But Sam was quick to see the car that was heading closer from the near distance, and before he could let history repeat itself, he jumped forward and pulled his brother away before he could get hit by the car. It took a second, but Sam saved the day, as the car went zooming right by. Dean let out a laugh from the near death experience, but Sam gave him a sullen look. “What did he…” Sam nodded his head, Dean’s lips stretched into a smirk. “Did it look cool like in the movies?”

Sam rolled his eyes from his brother’s question. “You peed yourself.”

You couldn’t help yourself but let out a laugh from the thought, Dean stared at you both with an angered expression. “Of course I peed myself.” Dean said, acting as if he meant to do that. You laugh got louder, Sam looked at him. “Shut up, Y/N! A man gets hit by a car, and you think he has full control of his bladder? Come on!” You tried apologizing, but Dean brushed it off. The man cautiously looked both ways at the road before you were off, thankfully, with no death following.

+ + +

“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” Here you all were, talking to the shop owner of this infamous Mystery Spot seemed happy enough to talk about his fairly popular attraction, despite the bit of bad luck someone had here not too long ago. You gave the man a friendly enough kind of smile, but your attention lingered away for a moment to observe this place. It was nothing more than cheap tricks with hanging furniture that had to be nailed to the ceiling and strange objects hidden out from the walls. It seemed to have been a fairly popular attraction when you saw a group of little kids and their parents lingering around in the background, enjoying the sights. “We could use all the good ink we can get.”

“How long as you owned the place, Mr. Carpiak?” Sam asked the owner, starting off the questions with a fairly harmless one. All of you were posing as journalists for a fictional newspaper. Sam thought it could have been one of the easier ways to figure out what sort of mysteries might be hidden in such a spot. Little did he knew anyone would make up a nice sounding lie if it meant to scrape up some good publicity and more customers.

Mr. Carpiak thought about an answer for a moment before he settled on a decent sounding one as he pointed at pad you were holding. “Well, my family’s been guarding the secrets here since you don’t want to know when.” He explained, you pretended to jot that information down.

“So you’d know if anything strange happened?” Sam asked the man another question.

“Strange? Strange happens here all the time.” Mr. Carpiak said, his lips stretching into a smile from what he mentioned next. “It’s a mystery spot.”

Sam forced himself to return the gesture, “What exactly does that mean?”

“Well, uh,” Mr. Carpiak struggle to find another proper answer, all before he was repeating the same information you found in the back of his pamphlet. “It’s where the laws of physics have no meaning.”

“Okay.” Sam was officially losing his patience. “Like how?”

Mr. Carpiak leaned in, his lips stretching into a smirk from what he suggested. “Take the tour.”

You could sense Sam was beginning to get angry from the lack of real answers that he wanted to hear. So you diverted the conversation away from the reason behind why this place made it such a fascinating spot, and more toward the real reason why all of you were here in the first place. “The guy who went missing, Dexter Hasselback,” You said, bringing up the missing man that was last seen here. “He take the tour?”

“Uh,” Mr. Carpiak was thrown off from your own question for a moment. He shifted around his feet as he suspiciously glanced around the room to see if anyone was eavesdropping, but a toothy grin never fell from his face. “Hold on a minute. What kind of article is this?”

“Just answer the question.” Sam ordered, his tone was low and serious.

“The police scoured every inch of this place. They couldn’t find that man. I’ve never seen him before.” Mr. Carpiak explained, his head turning to glance over at the small group of people that were still lingering around and enjoying the sights. “We’re a family establishment.”

When the owner looked back at the three of you, he subconsciously stepped back in fear when he saw Sam was standing in his personal space. And the glare he was giving him was a warning that this man wasn’t playing around anymore, he nervously swallowed when Sam spoke up. “Look. There’s something weird going on here.” Sam said, his voice lowering so all of you could only hear him. “Now, do you know anything about it or not?”

“Okay, look. Guys, um, give it a break. I bought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, all right?” The owner finally came clean with the truth, thinking he didn’t have much of a choice from the way that Sam was looking at him. “Hell, I used to sell bail bonds.”

You thought it would have been the information that Sam wanted to hear, but the scowl on his face didn’t seem to disappear, he just kept staring at the owner with such hatred. You glanced over at Dean, knowing it was time to wrap this conversation up before Sam got the courage to tap more into that aggression. He’d been acting strange and short tempered all day with you both, you really didn’t want to see this delicate even more. "Okay, Kojak.” Dean spoke up his hand reaching up to rest on his brother’s arm as he directed him the the exit. “Let’s get some air.” You managed to give the owner at least one pitiful smile and a mumbled apology before you were out the door.

+ + +

Night had fallen and there were no real answers to whatever problems Sam thought was going on here. You were tired and hungry, wanting nothing more than to go back to the motel and crash for the night. But you remembered exactly what was going to happen today, apparently from what Sam had mentioned today at breakfast, somehow you were going to die. You glanced down at your watch to see that it was around seven, five more hours until midnight, which would be the start of a new day. If you were going to make it that far. You let out the quiet sigh, knowing well enough the man’s paranoia was beginning to wear off on you. Neither your Dean were going to die today, it was just all the stress from the hunts that was blending together. Everyone cracked under pressure, even for a man like Sam.

“I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought,” Dean said, breaking your concentration away from your own thoughts. “It’s full of crap.”

“So what is it, then, Dean?” Sam questioned his brother, obviously agitated himself from the lack of answers that wasn’t being presented to him. “What the hell is happening to us?”

You shrugged your shoulders, knowing well enough you were beginning to understand why the man was losing his patience. But you stopped in your tracks, the brothers following when you began to think about a plan that might work. “All right, let me just think.” You mumbled underneath your breath. Running your fingers through your hair, you recollected again on the information that Sam told you. “So, Dean and I die, taking turns every other day. That’s when you wake up again, right? But today is my day.” Sam nodded his head, the urge of wanting to roll his eyes from the obvious facts, but he didn’t when you got to your point. “So let’s just make sure I don’t die. If we make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out.”

Sam thought about your plan for a moment. It might have been so simple sounding, you could see his facial expression soften slightly, like he had an ounce of hope that it might work. “Do you think?” He couldn’t help himself but ask.

“It’s worth a shot, Sammy. So I say we grab some takeout, head back to the motel, lay low to midnight.” You suggested, knowing there were only a handful amount of hours until the next day. Sam let out a quiet sigh, almost like he was relieved. You gave him a smile and turned around on your heels, while you started to walk, you curiously looked upwards when you saw the same movers from this morning still at work. All though when you glanced up see what they were doing, you furrowed your brows when you saw them moving that heavy desk. Curiosity always got the best of you. It took the sound of rope thinning before your final words were spoken. “Oh, sh—”

Before you could finish your sentence, or even get out of the way, the desk that was hanging by a thinning rope finally broke from the weight. Sam and Dean were forced to watch as the heavy piece of furniture come crashing down on you. They both winced from the impact, and while Dean was obviously in full shock, Sam couldn’t help but pout like a little puppy. What an idiot he thought that there was a way of getting himself out of this one.

+ + +

This was the fifth Tuesday in a row; Sam was getting tired of having to see his brother greet him with the same song playing, having to sit in the exact same booth of the restaurant and dealing with a waitress with terrible balance. He just wanted to stay in bed and pretend like none of the exact same events were going to follow. Maybe if he closed his eyes, he would fall back asleep and the next day would be Wednesday. Of course, he wouldn’t allow himself, knowing well enough because he was sitting in the same booth and staring at his brother that was looking at him with the utmost confusion. At least when he explained the situation again to you both, it seemed he was getting somewhere. Maybe it was the powerful look that was sketched across his face that sold the story about reliving the same day all over again.

“I still think you’re nuts, but whatever this is, we’ll figure it out.” Dean said, hoping that it would boost up his little brother’s confidence so he would crack even the slightest smile. But Sam just mumbled out a thank you, still looking down at the table. “So, uh, if you’re stuck in ‘Groundhog Day,’ why? What’s behind it?”

“First I thought it was the mystery spot.” Sam admitted. “Now I’m not so sure.”

“What do we do?” You asked him, wondering if he had a plan.

“Well, we keep you both breathing, try and make it to tomorrow.” Sam said. Even though it was your plan from yesterday, and it didn’t work, he had to keep trying. “I mean, that’s the only thing I can think of.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “That shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Yeah, right, Y/N.” Sam mumbled, a smile spreading across his lips from your innocent comment. “I’ve watched you both die a few times now, and I can’t ever seem to stop it.”

“Well, nothing’s set in stone. You say I order the same thing every day, right?” Dean asked. Sam nodded, mumbling the order of the pig 'n a poke with a side of bacon. But Dean decided to test a theory, he looked over at the waitress Doris that was lingering behind the counter. “Excuse me, sweetheart. Can I get sausage instead of bacon?” The waitress nodded her head, she told the cook as Dean looked over at his brother with a confident smile. “See? Different day already. You see, if we can decide that I am not gonna die, I’m not gonna die.”

Sam thought for a split second that maybe this is what everything was all about, breaking the same pattern and finally learning a lesson about doing what was the best for them. The waitress came back over with the order of food, and the change of sausage seemed to smell like victory. Dean thanked the woman and dug his fork into the sausage, he reached it up to his mouth and took a big bite. He gave his brother a smile as he chowed down on the food, enjoying the different taste. Sam could feel the smallest smile spreading across his lips, but it only lasted, until he heard his brother coughing. The clatter of the fork hitting the dish made your eyes jump up from your own breakfast. Dean had his hands wrapped around his neck as he tried his hardest to get the piece of food out of his throat.

“Dean.” Sam mumbled his brother’s name in a worried tone, but all that he got as a response was a coughing noise. His brother was choking on the sausage, the punishment for trying to cheat his way out of this unbeatable cycle of death. “Dean!”

Things went downhill from there. No matter what Sam tried to do, all the precautions that he thought would keep you and Dean alive, it never worked. On the sixth day, it was your turn. He thought keeping everyone inside the motel while you were taking a shower. Though you didn’t like it, you agreed, getting back to shampooing your hair, that was, until he heard a crashing sound. You slipped on the wet floor and cracked your head open. The next day was Dean’s turn, a bad batch of tacos made him suffer from food poisoning. On your turn, it was plugging a wet hair dryer into the outlet by accident that got you electrocuted. All the death made him start the exact same day over, soon they were blending together, but Sam had a gut feeling that there was something hidden in the mystery spot. All of this started when you arrived into town and took this stupid case.

On the day that Dean was supposed to die, Sam was at his breaking point. He marched all of you to the mystery spot after closing, caught the owner by surprise and messily tied him up so he would be out of the way. You and Dean were standing as witnesses, watching as Sam tore this entire place apart from top to bottom. There would be no stone left unturned. Sam knew there was something here, and he was going to find it, no matter what happened. He wasn’t going to wake up and heart that stupid song playing and his brother greeting him on another Tuesday.

“Everybody’s fine. Nobody’s gonna get hurt, okay?” Dean was crouched down next to the man, trying his hardest to keep everyone calm. He looked away to his brother that had be having a mental breakdown as he continued chipping away at the walls. “Sammy? Maybe you should drop the ax and let this guy go. What do you say?”

“Something’s got to be going on here.” Sam said, his hand pointing at the wall. “I intend to find out what.”

“Place is tore up pretty good, dude.” Dean noted as he looked around at the destroyed interior. All of you were in serious trouble, he thought to himself. “Time to give it a rest.”

“NO!” Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. He had enough of his brother’s interruptions, there was work that needed to be done here, and he needed to finish it. “I’m gonna take it down to studs.”

“Sammy, that’s enough.” Dean said. He pushed himself up to his feet and headed toward his brother, knowing it was time for him to take control of the situation. “Give me the ax.”


“Come on! Give me the ax! This is crazy!”

“Leave it Dean!”


Arguing between the brothers wasn’t something new. Sam tried his hardest to keep his hands wrapped around the wooden handle of the ax as his brother forced it out of his hands. But it seemed that he had worked up a sweat from chopping down these walls because all it took was an accidental slip of his sweaty palms to send the sharp end of the ax plunging to Dean’s neck. He registered the unpleasant screams from you and the grunts from the owner, which he knew there was a good reason why. Because the both of you were covered in the dead man’s blood. Sam eye’s widen when he realized that he killed his own brother, and the cycle starts all over again.

+ + +

Sam was really starting to lose his mind. The Tuesdays were beginning to blend together all into one, his attempts were starting to become meaningless. He stepped inside the diner to see the same old man rudely take his change from the cashier, the same loner sitting at the counter as he payed for a coffee so he could stay. You snuck yourself into the window seat as Dean took the seat across from you, Sam roughly plopped himself down, sending you a few inches up in the air from the impact. Without even looking, he knew you were giving him a dirty look. You’d been doing for the past fifteen Tuesdays now, it was another pattern he couldn’t break.

“Hey. Tuesday. Pig ‘n a poke.” Dean read off the menu, like always. Sam ignored your chance at asking the same question, he took his hand out his pocket and slammed the keys he swiped from the old man onto the table. His brother looked down at them with confusion. “What are those?”

“The old man’s.” Sam answered. You and Dean gave him a confused look as you peeked out the window, wondering if he was talking about the one you saw when walking in. “Trust me. You don’t want him behind the wheel.”

But before either one of you could further this conversation even more, Doris came over, like always. Ordering the same thing as she wrote it down on her pad. Sam glanced over at the woman, maybe it was his aggravation of having to live the same day over again, but he wanted to give the woman a bit of friendly advice. “Hey, Doris. What I’d like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You’re a terrible shot.”

She looked at him with surprise, “How do you know—”

“Lucky guess.”

Doris pouted ever so slightly, but she kept her emotions together when you all gave her a smile, not sure how to respond with an apology from Sam’s random comment. She finally turned around and headed back to behind the counter to place the orders. “Okay, so,” Dean spoke up when all of you were alone again, bringing up the same subject like he has been for fifty Tuesdays now. “You think you’re caught in some kind of what again?”

“Time loop.” Sam answered in a monotone voice.

“Like ‘Groundhog Day.’” You said, bringing up the same theory.

“It doesn’t matter.” Sam muttered. “There’s no way to stop it.”

You raised your brows at the man’s attitude, “Jeez. Aren’t you grumpy?”

“Yeah, I am. You want to know why?” Sam asked, turning his head to look at you. Of course you nodded your head. “Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I’ve been through, and it never stops. Ever. So, yeah, I’m a little grumpy.” You glanced over at Dean with confusion from the nonsense he was talking about, but he knew the perfect example was coming up when he saw Doris approach again from the corner of his eye. “Hot sauce.”

“Coffee—black,and some hot sauce for the—whoops!” Dorris repeated as she handed over the hot cups, but she didn’t seem to notice the glass bottle teetering at the edge before it was too late. Sam immediately reached a hand out and grabbed the bottle before it could break. He slammed it down onto the table as he looked over at his brother, wondering if that was enough proof for the both of you. “Thanks.” Like always, Dorris went back off to wait on the rest of the customers.

“Nice reflexes.” You complimented, but Sam gave you a glare from the repeated line.

“I knew it was gonna happen, Y/N.” Sam said. “I know everything that’s gonna happen.”

Dean let out a slight chuckle, “You don’t know everything.”

“Yeah. I do.” Sam argued back with his brother.

“Yeah, right.” Dean said, but his brother copied him like a shadow, knowing well enough exactly what he was going to say because he could even get it out. The older man suddenly looked at his brother with suspicion. “Nice guess.” Of course, Sam repeated the man, again, in perfect sync.

“It wasn’t a guess.” Sam said. Again, they went a few more rounds.

“Right, you’re a mind reader.”

“Cut it out, Sam.”


“You think you’re being funny, but you’re being really, really childish.”

“Sam Winchester wears makeup.”

“Sam Winchester cries his way through sex.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at his brother, trying to think of the perfect insult that the man couldn’t repeat, but Sam was ready for it. “Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed, and every morning, when he wakes up…okay, enough!” Dean shouted, throwing his hands up in the air from the game of Shadow that had took place. He leaned back in his seat and gave his brother a look, suddenly freaked out from what took place. You looked at both of them, your mouth parted open.

“That’s not all.” Sam said, you gave the man a surprised look, wondering what else he had up his sleeve. “Randy the cashier? He’s skimming from the register. Judge Meyers? At night, he puts on a furry bunny outfit.” You couldn’t help yourself but glance over at the old man sitting at the counter, drinking his chocolate milk and minding his own business. But when his dirty secret was out, he accidentally drop the cup in surprise. “Over there—that’s Cal. He’s gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home.”

“What’s your point, Sam?” You questioned the man.

“My point is I’ve lived through every possible Tuesday. I’ve watched you two die every possible way. I’ve ripped apart the mystery spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your lives, and I can’t.” Sam explained to the both of you. The annoyed expression on your face soften, knowing well enough everything he h