Hazel Eyes

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[idreamofhazeleyes]

Written in Blood Ch 13

@percussiongirl2017 @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofplaid @impala-dreamer @spnfanficpond @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface

Chapter 13

It took a couple hours before the cops finally left. The last squad car left, the Impala left where Dean parked when we all arrived at the motel. Sam and I darted for the car; he went to the driver’s seat and I to the passenger’s seat. We got out of the town before Sam broke the silence.

“Why’d Dean go get you before getting me?”

“Huh? Oh. I don’t know. The last time I saw him was when I was at university for nursing back in Michigan. Sure, I’ve had patients of the supernatural variety. But I never hunted.”

“You got no claim in this…”

“My brother got pulled into this by John,” I interrupted. “The sooner we find John, the sooner I get Tyler back home.” And the sooner I get back to finding a new nursing job.

~~~

We pulled up to a junk yard. Sam seemed to want to tell me to remain as he climbed out. I was out of the car before he could say anything. I was half way to the house before Sam caught up to me.

“Aeryn, wait,” he called. “Do you even know what you’re gonna say?”

“Do you still have that photo of you and John?”

Sam pulled it out and I snatched it from him.

“Good. I’m gonna ask if Joseph has seen John and just run with whatever Joseph said.” I knocked on the door and waited.

The door cracked open and I flashed a soft smile at the elderly man. “Are you Joseph Welch?” I questioned.

“Yeah. Why?”

I held up the photo of John and the boys. “My friend here and I are looking for the older man in this photo.”

Joseph stood behind the door for several seconds before stepping out and taking the photo from me. I stepped back to allow him outside. He led the way from the door, I kept at his side while Sam was at his other side.

“I’ve seen him,” Joseph said. “Came by about three or four days ago. Saying he was a reporter.”

“That’s right,” I said, eyes flittered quick to Sam. “He and I are working on a story. My friend here’s worried as neither of us heard from him lately.”

“I don’t know what kind of story you’re working on with the questions he asked me.”

“About your wife Constance?” Sam dared.

“He asked where she was buried.”

“I know this is hard, Mr. Welch,” I said, my compassion from my short nursing career seeped in. “We wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t necessary.”

Joseph sighed.

“In a plot behind my old place at Birkenridge.”

“You moved?” Sam asked.

“I wasn’t going to live where my children passed.”

“Mr. Welch,” Sam started as I started for the Impala. “Have you heard of a woman in white?”

Shit. We didn’t need this.

“A what?” Joseph asked.

“It’s a ghost story,” I cut in. “Spirits of women spotted on the sides of roads. It has Latin origins. Legend states that the woman killed the children due to the unfaithfulness of their husbands.”

“What are you implying?” Joseph angrily took a couple steps toward me.

Sam jumped between the two of us. “

“A ghost story,” I cut in. “Latin myth states that a woman in white is a woman that had killed her children in anger due to the unfaithfulness of her husband. They wander the sides of roads, looking for unfaithful men; killing them.”

Joseph turned to me, anger on his face. “Are you saying…Sure I’ve made some mistakes, but Constance….She’d never kill our children.” Sam stepped between the two of us as Joseph stepped forward. “Now, the two of you get the hell out of her.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. With a head nod to Joseph, who had an expression of either anger or grief – or both – I turned for the Impala. Sam followed a few seconds later.

“What the fuck was that, Sam?” I demanded the second we drove off. “Taunting the man like that.”

“Oh, all of a sudden you’re Dean? Lay off, Aeryn.”

“I mean it. Man’s lost his entire family that night and has to live with the guilt.” I sighed as Sam handed me his phone.

“Here,” he said. “It’s already dialing.”

“Wait … wha…”

“911, what’s you’re emergency?”

Um … “Yes, I was just driving and saw an apartment building on fire.”

“Grandville and Dawson,” Sam whispered.

“At Grandville and Dawson,” I repeated to the dispatcher. “I think they’re gonna need police as well.” I hung up before the dispatcher could speak.

“Welcome to the life of crime,” Sam said.

I startled when his cell rang in my hands minutes later. “County morgue,” I spoke.

“Aeryn? You’re the one that called the fake 911 call? Pretty illegal there.”

“Don’t blame me, blame your brother.” I looked at Sam. I thumbed through the options and got Dean on speaker.

“We gotta talk,” Dean said.

“Tell me about it,” Sam said. “The husband was unfaithful. And Constance is buried at her old place. That’s Dad’s next stop.”

“Sammy, listen.”

“I don’t understand why Dad didn’t destroy the corpse yet.”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Dean half snapped. “Dad’s not here. He left Jericho.”

“How do you know?”

“I got his journal.”

“His what?” Just for once I’d like to get all the information.

“Dad’s hunting journal,” Sam said. “Dean and I got our own. It’s something that we never leave behind.”

“Well, Dad left his,” Dean jumped in. “And it said the same ex-Marine crap whenever he wanted us to go somewhere.”

“Coordinates. Where?” Sam questioned.

“I haven’t figured it out.”

“This isn’t like Dad to just skip out half way through a job,” Sam pointed out. “What was so important to get him to do that?”

I happened to look up to see Constance in the middle of the road. “SAM!” My body moved instinctively as he braked hard, wishing for once I had the seat belt on. A deep chill washed over my body before a voice with a slight echo from the backseat requested to be taken home.

Sam refused and Constance’s voice rose when she demanded to be taken home. I jolted with the doors locked before struggling to open mine. The car sped forward and Sam attempted to steer. This was not the way I imaged being killed; car crash caused by a woman in white. I should have just refused Dean when he asked for help two days ago and found a different hospital to work at.

We eventually pull up to an abandoned house. Sam and I share a look. Constance spoke again how she couldn’t go home. His expression changed as a pressure pushed in on me; controlling my body.

Get the fuck out, I told it, unable to stop myself from pushing Sam back against the seat; it folding back under the force.

I’m so sorry, Sam, I thought to him as Constance spoke, “Hold me. I’m so cold,” through me.

I struggled against Constance as she attempted to kiss him; her hand reaching into his chest. In my mind, I pictured pulling Constance back away from myself. Somewhere out of the car, a gunshot echoed. Constance stopped fighting me. Another shot. She loosened her control, but didn’t leave my body.

I sat up off of Sam, who sat up as well. No words were needed. He started the car.

“Hold on,” he said.

The force from Sam pressing on the gas pedal pushed me back into the seat. Heart started pumping faster as adrenaline filled my system as I saw the house grow ever closer. I braced as Sam crashed through the wall, it crumbled around the car. Unable to go any further, the Impala rested in what was the living room. My breathing slowed as the rush came down.

“Sam …” I started. “About what just happened.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was Constance.”

“Sam!” Dean appeared at the passenger door. “Aeryn! You two okay?”

“More or less,” I said, moving to push open my door. “If you don’t count being possessed by a ghost.”

Dean flashed a glare at Sam, who had come around to join us, just as a bureau was pushed toward us. I stumbled back a couple steps while the brothers were pinned to the car. Lights flickered around us and my gaze shot around the room, a chill fell over my body. I could hear the faint sound of running water just as a chorus of two young children called out: “You’ve come home, Mommy.”

It was as if I suddenly saw Constance before me, facing the children in fear. The children flashed from where they stood at the top of the stairs to behind their mother. Constance screamed as she and the children melted into the pool of water.

My breath came ragged while the chill dissipated, head snapped a little at the sound of the falling bureau. Sam was at my side to help me up while Dean walked over to the water spot.

“So, this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said.

“It’s why she couldn’t go home,” I said, partially using Sam until I gained my balance.

“She was too scared to face them,” Sam finished.

“Find the weak spot, didja?” Dean slapped Sam in his chest.

I didn’t miss the grimace as pain washed over him.

“Beats blasting Casper in the face,” I shot back.

“Saved your asses.” Dean turned to the car. “I will tell you this, Sammy. You mess up my car…” He looked to his brother. “I’ll kill you.”

It didn’t take too long for us to work the Impala out of the house and Dean to ensure it was in perfect condition. We were back on the road with one of Dean’s classic rock tapes playing and Sam looking at the coordinates in John’s journal and a map. I hung over his shoulder with a flashlight lighting the journal and map.

“Dad went to Blackwater Ridge, Colorado,” Sam said.

“Charming,” Dean replied. “How far?”

I tiled my head. “Some six hundred miles.”

“If we shag ass, we can make it by morning.”

“Dean,” I started, my words drifting off.

“You’re not going,” he picked up.

“My interview’s in ten hours,” Sam said. “I gotta be there.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll take you home.”

I clicked off the flashlight and slumped back into the backseat. I wasn’t too sure what I wanted to do. I still needed to find Tyler and get him home, yet I needed to get back to Michigan and find out how much trouble I was in.

~~~

I slid out of the back seat and slipped into the front passenger seat. Sam closed the door and leaned in the window. It had taken a few hours to get back to his apartment in Palo Alto and the ride was quiet save for the music.

“Call me when you find him,” the younger brother requested, receiving a nod from Dean. “Maybe we’ll meet up later.”

Sam patted the car and turned away. Dean leaned over, throwing his arm over the back of the seat. Unable to move and acutely aware of how close Dean was, I sat there with my hands in my lap.

“Sam?” He turned back. “We made a hell of a team.”

“Yeah. Oh, you need to find an anti-possession charm for Aeryn.”

Dean leaned back away and looked at me, questions forming on his face. Instead he drove away.

“Dean, back when Sam and I were dealing with Constance,” I began as an image of a fire flashed in my mind. Then another of Sam. “Dean, we need to go back. Something’s happened at the apartment.”

“Sam’s a big boy,” Dean countered.

“I think it’s Sam’s apartment.” I was hesitant, unsure if the two visions were connected.

Dean slowed just a hair as he pulled a U-Turn in the street, cutting off the few drivers; gaining a couple laying on their horns. He sped up, killing the distance back to the apartment building. I was out of the car before Dean put it in park; with him racing past me into the apartment building. I began knocking on doors, yelling fire, hoping someone would hear and help get others out. Some doors behind me opened, people dared to question the late night disturbance. Until some closer to Sam’s apartment saw the smoke and started to knock on other doors. Flames started licking out from the apartment as I approached, slowing down. A hand grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

Dean and I locked eyes for a second before I turned and followed them out; Dean pushing Sam in front of him. All the while Sam yelled for Jess. He managed to get past Dean, but I planted myself, grunting when the six-foot man collided into me.

“Let me by, Aeryn,” he demanded.

“Like hell I am.” He had a few inches and probably twenty pounds on me, I didn’t care.

Anger flashed over his face and the thought that he would push past me to get back into the apartment popped into my mind. Instead he stared at me, anger still on his face. Anger not directed at me. He turned away as the first of the fire trucks arrived on scene. I looked at Dean, worried that I over stepped.

“Jess was his girlfriend,” he explained. “Wanted to settle down and not have anything else to do with hunting.”

We headed over to the Impala where Sam was sorting through the weapons and tossed a shotgun into the trunk.

“We got work to do.” A sinking feeling washed over me.

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Written in Blood Ch 12

@percussiongirl2017 @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofplaid @impala-dreamer @spnfanficpond @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface

Chapter 12

I spun slowly in the library chair, half bored. The three of us had been there for a couple hours with little luck in finding anything related to the Centennial woman’s death. At one point I got up and leaned over to see that their results for the “Female murder hitchhiking” search yielded nothing.

“So, what’s so special about this woman?” I questioned. “And why would she be stuck in that one stretch of highway?”

“She’s an angry spirit,” Sam said as he pushed Dean out of the way, taking his seat. “They’re born out of violent or wrongful deaths. Usually they’re trapped here by unfinished business, trauma, or murderous rage.”

“So, what’s binding our Centennial friend? Unfinished business, trauma, or murderous rage?”

“Maybe it’s not murder.” Sam tapped at the keyboard, replacing “murder” with “suicide”.

One article dated back to April of 1981 appeared on the screen. So, it was a traumatic death. The article told that a local woman threw herself off the Sylvania Bridge near the 33 mile marker of the highway, drowning. It also told that a dispatcher received a call from Constance, stating that she was in panic having discovered her two young children in the bathtub after leaving them alone for several minutes.

Her husband, Joseph was quoted, saying “What happened to my children was a horrible accident.” It had been too much for Constance, losing the two children, and she couldn’t bare the loss.

I spotted the picture of a woman in the article and shiver ran down my spine. There was something about her that didn’t sit right with me.

“Does that bride look familiar to you?” Dean questioned.

My eyes flicked to the picture of the bridge. It was the same one that had been taped off as a crime scene.

~~~

I had expected at least one piece of police tape to be fluttering in the wind. Instead the entire bridge had been cleared of any police presence. Behind me Sam and Dean were talking about the bridge was where Constance committed suicide and whether John was here as well. I hoped Tyler was with him, and safe. I ran a finger over the railing as I walked. There was something about the bridge that didn’t sit right with me, despite knowing this was where minimum two people died. Despite no breeze, my skin grew goose bumps, as if sensing something present that I couldn’t see.

Barely aware of the growing tension between Sam and Dean, something about Sam needing to get back to Stanford by Monday and not letting someone named Jess know what Sam did. I ignored them, the loud voices about how Sam had a responsibility to John and to find whatever killed their mom. A whisper in the back of my mind called me to a section of railing, urging me to climb up. Both of my feet were up before I fully realized what I was doing.

The air grew colder when I steadied myself on the top railing. There was someone pressing against my body, as if they were attempting to push their way into it.

“Aeryn!” one of the guys called. “Aeryn, stop! Wait!”

I turned my head just enough to see a translucent figure next to me.

“I can never go home,” she said right before stepping off the railing.

My gaze followed her, mind expecting to see the splash when the body contacted the water below. Nothing happened. A hand grabbed an ankle while another grabbed my free hand. Both hands worked at bringing me down onto the bridge. Eventually I did, and I held onto the railing in the odd sense that Constance nearly had me jump. Dean seemed to hold on just a little longer than necessary. I pulled away just as the engine revved on the Impala.

“Dean, who’s in the car?” I asked, stepping around him.

He pulled out his keys. The Impala throttled toward us, chasing us down the bridge. At one point Dean pulled away from me, jumping the railing while Sam and I managed to hold on. We shared a look, as if making sure the other was fine before Sam called down to Dean.

I looked down to find a dark figure crawling out of the river onto the bank. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” He threw up an “ok” sign. “Super.” He managed to gain his footing while Sam and I climbed down from the railing.

“What was all that?” Sam questioned while we approached the Impala. “You getting on the railing before. It was as if you were going to step off.”

I walked slowly around the car, fingers trailing behind me. “I don’t know. It was as if something was trying to take control. Or pulling up those darker urges up. The ones you bury so deep, they only come up in the dead of night when you’re alone with your thoughts.”

Dean appeared and the two brothers started talking; Dean calling Constance a bitch for controlling the Impala.

“So, what’s the plan, genius?” I questioned, getting close before the smell hit me. “You smell like shit.”

~~~

The smell got slightly better when the river dirt dried on our way into town and found a one star motel. The man on the other side of the counter eyed all three of us while looking at the fake driver’s license. I could imagine what was going through his head.

“Y’all having a reunion?” he asked, handing the license back. “Named something like Burt Aframian.”

The boys shared a look before leading the way from the office. They seemed to gravitate toward a closed up room. Dean guided me to stand behind Sam when the younger brother knelt down; pulling out something from a pocket.

“Make sure no one comes up behind us,” Dean instructed.

“You know she’s gonna need to learn how to pick locks,” Sam tossed over his shoulder.

“Sure. I’ll just run to the store for a practice kit,” Dean shot back. “Just get us in.”

I swore to myself that the guy in the office was on the phone. But I couldn’t tell between the distance and the shadows. Sam twisted the knob and pushed the door in. He moved first before Dean half pulled me before him.

The room was filled with protection charms, and profiles of the missing men. I looked at the wall of missing men. “I don’t get it. All men of different backgrounds, different jobs, different ethnicities, different ages.”

Sam looked over another wall of things John had pinned up. “Dad figured it out.”

Dean and I looked over.

“He found the same article we did,” Sam continued. “Constance is a woman in white.”

“A what?” I asked.

“Woman in white,” Dean echoed. “A Latin myth where a ghost of a woman crying for her children. She’s known, in the Latin myth, to have drowned her children to be with her lover; who rejected her. Other versions the man was the father who left for another woman. Either way, when rejected, the mother kills herself. Unable to enter heaven until she finds her children, the mother wanders and searches for her children.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean agreed. “Since we’re dealing with a woman in white, Dad would’ve found the body and destroyed it.”

“She might have another weakness,” Sam suggested.

“Dad would want to make sure.”

I looked over the article, gaze falling to Joseph Walsh. “I’d ask the husband.” The guys went silent and were looking at me when I turned back around. “I mean, he was in his thirties back in ’81. Meaning, he’s …” I did quick mental math. “Sixty-four. Providing he’s still alive.”

The two shared a look before coming to a silent agreement.

“Fine,” Dean said with a sigh. “The two of you find an address while I clean up.”

He headed for the bathroom while Sam turned to a mirror with a rosary on it. A picture tucked into the frame. I started to sort through the papers that John had left. I did my best not to overhear voicemails left by a woman on Sam’s phone. Most likely the Jess that Sam and Dean talked about last night on the bridge.

“I’m starving,” Dean said, stepping out of the bathroom, grabbing a leather jacket from where it hung. “I’m gonna grab something from that diner down the street. You two want anything?”

“Breakfast sandwich,” I requested. I didn’t have much other than the gas station snack food yesterday morning.

Sam declined, distracted by the voicemails. I should call my parents to see if they swung by my apartment. Fishing out my own phone, I crossed over to the bathroom. Mom picked up on the second ring, as if she was expecting my call.

“Aeryn, where are you?” she demanded. “The hospital called; something about a dead nurse on your last shift.”

Shit. The djinn was found. Not that I wasn’t expecting it not to be found.

“What’d they say?” I dared.

“They wanna ask you about it. That you were the last person to see her alive.”

“Are police involved?”

“Of course they are. Aeryn, are you okay? We haven’t heard anything since you called for us to pack up your apartment. Are you in trouble?”

My mind flashed back to the day Dean pulled the IV lines from me. The blue handprint on my neck.

“No, I’m not in trouble,” I responded. “I’m looking for Tyler. It’s … just taking longer than I expected.”

A hand touched my shoulder, causing me to jolt at the touch. Sam held a finger to his lips; signaling to be quiet.

“Hey, mom,” I said, my voice low. “I gotta go. Something’s come up.” I ended the call before she could get a word it.

“Cops are outside,” Sam said. “They grabbed Dean. We need to leave.” He moved to the back wall and worked the window open; climbing out first.

I didn’t get a chance to doubt climbing out the window when a knock came at the door. My body moved to use the dresser, going headfirst out the window. Sam came into view as I wiggled around to drop feet first out of the window.

“Come on,” Sam led the way away from the motel. “We need to hide out until the cops leave.”

<<Chapter 11>> <<Chapter 13>>

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Written in Blood Ch 11

@percussiongirl2017 @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofplaid @impala-dreamer @spnfanficpond @winchester-reload @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface

Chapter 11

The low rumble of the engine teased sleep into my body. The brothers hadn’t spoke much in the couple hours since we left the apartment. My mind replayed the EVP repeatedly. “I can never go home.” What did it mean that the spirit couldn’t go home? What had happened so bad that they couldn’t go home?

At some point I had fallen asleep as we had stopped at some two lane, small town four gas pump gas station when I woke. My body took a deep breath as I started to move, a little stiff from being in the back seat.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Dean greeted as I sat up. “Up for some breakfast?”

He held up some highly processed snack food. I was about to refuse when my stomach rumbled; disagreeing.

“Better than nothing,” I muttered while reaching for a couple bags of chips. I ate chip by chip while Sam got on Dean for running credit card scams and needing to update his classic rock cassette tapes.

“House rules, Sammy,” Dean said before turning AC/DC up.

“Sammy’s a pudgy twelve year old,” Sam countered, his voice louder to be heard over the music. “It’s Sam, okay?”

“I can’t hear you,” Dean said. “Music’s too loud.”

I swore he had a smile on his face when he drove away from the gas station. We eventually reached a bridge that was taped off with police tape and had more than enough police presence that my stomach started to twist.

“Stay here,” Dean shot back at me as he and Sam climbed out of the car, something in their hands.

“No way.” I clambered out of the back seat. “You wanted my help, you got it.”

“There’s no way... We don’t have a badge for you,” Dean stammered.

Sam dug through the glovebox.

“Then I’m a ride along,” I countered. “Say that it was planned before we got the call.”

“Aeryn, do you still have your nurse badge?” Sam asked as he emerged from the car.

“Why?”

He held up a badge. “I could fake a badge.”

“You’re not about...” Dean started.

“Aeryn’s not gonna sit here in the Impala while we do the leg work,” Sam countered.

I handed over my badge, knowing I was not going to be returning to that particular hospital even if I was done helping with the boys. Sam worked at crafting a FBI badge for me. He finished a few minutes later, handing it back to me.

“It’s not perfect, but it’ll hold up under a quick glance,” he said.

“Aright, let’s go,” Dean rushed, turning back to the badge.

I heard the officers talking about a kid named Troy and how Amy was doing. She was apparently not doing well as she was posting missing persons’ signs downtown. Dean caught the officers’ attention by asking about having a similar issue a month ago.

“And who are you?” one officer questioned, the tone in his voice ready to tell all three of us off for even daring to come into a crime scene. “A little young for federal marshals,” he continued when Dean flashed his fake badge.

“You’re too kind,” I jumped in, flashing a smile. Dean bristled at my side when I stepped forward, heading toward the abandoned car. “Now, you had another like this, right?”

“That’s right, about a half mile up the road,” the officer confirmed. “With more before that one.”

“Did you know him, the victim?” Sam asked, coming up beside me.

I watched Dean circle the car.

“In a town this small,” the officer answered, “everyone knows everyone.”

Dean came back around the car. “Any connections other than the victims are male?”

“Not as far as we can tell.”

Well, that was shit. There had to be some sort of connection. “What about a theory?” I asked.

The officer shook his head. “We’ve guessed a kidnapping ring or serial killer.”

I held back a scoff. Even a serial killer had a connecter between the victims.

“That’s exactly the kind of crack police work I’d expect out of you guys,” Dean quipped right before I caught a movement from Sam.

Dean shot Sam an angry look.

“Thank you for your time, gentlemen,” I said as Sam half pulled Dean away.

They were a few steps ahead of me, giving me an excellent view of Dean slapping Sam on the back of his head. They spoke low enough that I couldn’t catch what was said, yet their body language told me it was some sibling annoyance banter. I missed that banter with Tyler, which just set my resolve to find him.

Dean was driving before I fully settled in the back seat.

“I caught the sheriffs mention a woman putting up missing person’s notices,” I said. “Think we could go find her in town?”

Sam half shrugged when Dean looked at him. Dean didn’t argue as we drove off toward the town. The drive was quiet as we rolled into the small downtown area. My eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Amy. After a few moments, I caught sight of a young woman, maybe late teens, carrying a stack of papers and putting one on a pole.

“Dean, stop,” I said even as I was moving to get out of the back.

He slowed down enough I was able to climb out, and half closed the door before half chasing Amy.

“Excuse me, Amy?” I said as I approached her.

She stopped, startled at my approach. Her eyes went wide in fright.

“I’m sorry. I’m Aeryn, Troy’s cousin. He’s told me about you.”

“He’s never mentioned you.” Amy’s eyes flicked behind me.

A hand rested between my shoulder blades. “I’m sorry, is my sister bothering you?” Dean questioned.

“I was just telling Amy here that I was Troy’s cousin.”

“He’s never mentioned having cousins,” Amy said as she moved to walk around the three of us.

Dean pulled away as we turned to follow her. A young woman came up and touched Amy’s arm. The woman questioned Amy on her wellbeing while Sam asked if we could ask them some questions before Amy and her friend continued down the street to a small town restaurant.

“Can you tell us what happened that night?” Sam questioned as we settled.

Amy took a breath to settle herself. “I was on the phone with Troy while he drove home. Said he’d call me back. And … he never did.”

That was a little obvious since Amy was putting up missing person’s posters.

“He didn’t say or do anything out of the ordinary?” Sam pushed.

Amy shook her head while fingering the pentacle necklace.

“I like your necklace,” I complimented.

A small chuckle escaped Amy as she dropped the necklace. “Troy gave it to me. Mainly to scare my parents with all that … devil stuff.”

I caught Sam and Dean sharing a look before Sam turned back to Amy. They knew something. Sam laughed a little.

“Actually it’s the opposite,” he said. “A pentagram is protection against evil.” Sam shot a look at me. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”

Oh, so he didn’t believe that I believed in the supernatural world. I had evidence scarred in my left shoulder that I believed in it. The nightmares that kept me up for weeks after that night. How I would flinch at every unknown sound in my late-night walks home from class or work. Or all the supernatural beings that came through the hospital’s ER department. The werewolf that I killed with an air bubble in his vein. The djinn that tied me up and used me as a food source.

I leaned forward on the table. “Here’s the thing, ladies. How Troy disappeared doesn’t sit well with me. So, if there’s anything you know…”

Amy and Rachel shared an uneasy expression. As if they didn’t want to continue spreading what they had heard, but wouldn’t get answers if they didn’t.

“It’s just …” Rachel began. “With all these guys going missing, people talk.”

“What do they say?” I press, keeping her attention on me instead of either brother.

“It’s sort of back legend,” Rachel continues. “There’s this one girl, maybe your age. She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago.”

That didn’t bode well for me. Was it some sort of serial killer spree or just a bad hit and run that left her there, unable to go home?

“Supposedly she’s still out there,” Rachel finishes. “She hitch hikes, and whoever picks her up disappears.”

<<Chapter 10>> <<Chapter 12>>

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Arranged Marriage + Banter

Trying something new: I'm using a randomizer to give me tropes or AUs from the two lists down below and I write a prompt list for the combined themes.

"You haven't run away yet." "Neither have you."

"Hey, I'm not thrilled about getting married to you either."

"You should try to not glare at me at our engagement pictures."

"Could have been worse." "How?" "It could be someone I actually like and they don't like me back."

"Should we hold hands? You know, for like... moral support?"

"Let's just not even pretend to like each other."

"There is still time to cancel the wedding." "And disappoint your parents? That's your job."

"So, do you think they did a good job of picking me?" "I never actually trusted their taste and I was proven right."

"You're okay with all of this?" "Sure. You're not as annoying as I thought you would be."

"Why do all of your engagement pictures look like I will not survive till the wedding?"

"Did you just flirt with me?" "It's our wedding day, so yes I did."

"We should get to know each other better." "I just need to know what annoys you the most."

"You should be happy." "Why?" "Because you get to wake up to this beautiful face for the rest of your life."

Lists: Favourite Tropes + AU ideas

More: Arranged Marriage Royalty AU Events + Arranged matrimony for royalty + How to write witty banter

[purewasteland]

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Jensen just telling Mish "No".

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Written in Blood Chapter 10

So, it's been nearly two years since I've posted any chapters for "Written in Blood". Finally back in the swing of it. @percussiongirl2017 @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofplaid @impala-dreamer @spnfanficpond @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface @myinconnelly1

We came up at a rest area an hour or so later with the sun nearly set. The lights in the parking lot hummed on when I climbed out of the Impala. The parking lot held a handful of semi trucks and a few cars as I made my way to the building. There were a couple people lingering in the lobby when I passed through to the restroom.

Alone in a stall it finally occurred to me that I left my job and apartment to go after Tyler who might be somewhere with John. What bothered me was why Tyler went with John. They had no connection other than me, and we hadn’t talked in months. I left home hours ago and a sense of not returning for weeks started to set in. Part of me hoped we’d find them soon and I could return to a life without any supernatural creatures.

Yet if the djinn was any sort of sign, there would be no escaping the life I got into a few years ago in college. Even now since Dean came and asked for help. Washing my hands in the sink, I tried not to look at the blue handprint in the mirror. It was yet another reminder of how dangerous being a hunter was. The wounds from the werewolf took nearly a month to fully heal even with Emily’s help.

When I stepped out of the building, darkness had set, and Dean was leaning against the Impala. He moved when I headed over and got into the car. Silence stayed with us as we started on the highway. Questions bounced around in my head between who we were getting in Stanford, what else we had to go on with the missing men, and why Tyler went with John to just up and disappear.

Even with the nap I had earlier, I started dozing off. Dean showed no sign of wanting to stop. I adjusted my position and got comfortable as possible before closing my eyes.

I hadn’t planned on sleeping through the night. Yet when I woke the sun was just over the horizon and Dean was … My head turned around in a mild panic search of him to find him in the back seat. That seemed to settle the nerves that had started to twist. Looking out the windows showed we had stopped at a rest stop. My bladder protested my inaction, and I eased out of the Impala.

The building was quiet in the early morning. Someone had been through to clean the restrooms and lobby. Dean was in a small panic when I stepped back out. He relaxed when his gaze fell on me.

“How much sleep did you get?” I asked.

“Enough to get through the day.”

Not enough. Yet I wasn’t going to argue against it. He got sleep and had us in a relatively safe area. My stomach rumbled as we pulled out onto the highway.

“Don’t suppose we could make a food stop?”

We got a few hours down the road before stopping. Back on the road with fast food junk, I watched the scenery race by. At some point I pulled down the visor and stared at the blue handprint in the mirror. It was a reminder of how close I came to death and not realize it.

“Stop messing with it,” Dean said.

“Would it come off?”

“We’re going to find out eventually.”

That did not help. I was not even sure if I was going to be working with Dean when it happened. We fell silent and I watched the scenery pass by. Part of me wished I had brought something to do during the drive. At some point we stopped at a rest stop long enough to use the restrooms.

“So, this brother of yours,” I attempted at a conversation. “Why Stanford?”

Dean’s grip tightened on the wheel. Maybe I should not have brought up the subject. But he wouldn’t be going to get his brother if there was a serious grudge.

“He’s studying to be a lawyer. Stanford’s one of the best schools. What about your brother? Why would he go with dad?”

“Why would John go get Tyler? What’s he doing?”

“That’s what we’re going to find out.”

The rest of the drive past in relative silence. There seemed to be an anger near the surface that I did not know the source.

We arrived in Palo Alto as night settled. Part of me wanted to get out of the car, yet Dean didn’t move. For several minutes we sat there.

“What is it?” I dared.

“I … I don’t know if Sammy would listen or kick me out.”

“Why would he kick you out?”

“The last time I saw him … everyone was angry. Sam was leaving for here and Dad was beyond angry.”

“That was years ago. He still couldn’t be upset over that.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s always been him and me against the world.”

“Well,” I moved to get out of the Impala. “You won’t know what he’s gonna say if you stay here.”

Dean rushed out from his seat and around to my side even before I could get out.

“Stay out here, please. It … It’ll be better that I go in alone.”

There was a half pleading expression on his face, as though he wanted to ensure I stayed out of whatever happened between him and Sam.

“Fine, I’ll stay,” I said.

A faint smile appeared on Dean’s face. He turned and headed toward the building while I sat in the Impala. Part of me wanted to follow along and learn more. John was missing and Tyler along with him. But why would Tyler be with him? There was no chance neither knew of the other. Unless Tyler was caught up in a case like I was. The last time I talked with my family, none of them mentioned anything weird happening back home. That didn’t make sense. Nothing of it made sense.

I stepped out of the Impala and leaned against the front engine compartment. The cool breeze was enough to cause me to shiver a little. My head turned at a sound. It shouldn’t take this long to get his brother. Did Dean actually forget that I was waiting?

“Who’s this?” a voice asked. Pitched a little higher than Dean’s.

My attention went to a six foot five something man that seemed to be more torso than anything else. Of all the types I had pictured in the drive here, a geek wasn’t one of them. He didn’t give off the stereotypical look of a geek, but he had the vibe of one.

“Aeryn, meet my brother,” Dean said, coming up beside him. “Sam. Sam, this is Aeryn.”

Sam stared at me for a moment. “Dean, can we talk; alone?”

“She knows.”

Sam faced his brother. “What do you mean, ‘she knows’? You brought someone who doesn’t need to know about what we do.”

“She’s held her own,” Dean countered. “And she’s involved, okay? She’s got a stake in finding Dad.”

“She’s standing right here.” I pushed off against the car and got between them. Sam towered over me by several inches compared to my five foot nine frame. “And my brother’s on the same hunt that John’s on.”

I saw surprise flash over Sam’s face right before his gaze jumped to Dean.

“There was a werewolf on my college campus when I attended,” I started. My hand reached up and exposed my shoulder that still bore the claw marks from the werewolf. The scars still held a tint of red, as if they hadn’t fully healed.  “It had my scent and John determined I had to be the one to kill it.”

“He used you as bait.” Sam scoffed. “That sounds like Dad, alright. Do you know why he’d get your brother involved?”

I shook my head. “Maybe the same thing why John went radio silent. Do either of you know why John hasn’t kept in touch lately?” I didn’t know if they kept in touch with their father and didn’t need to know.

“Dad was the one that said I should stay gone if I went,” Sam said. “Didn’t like the idea of me going to college.”

“Well, Dad’s in trouble, real trouble,” Dean said. “And Aeryn’s brother’s in danger.” Silence fell between us. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes you can. And you got ...” Sam waved at me. “Aeryn, is it? She’s not enough for you?”

Dean shifted his weight, as if he was losing confidence. “I want you with us.”

Sam stood there and seemed to mentally debate the matter. Tyler was in potentially high danger and Sam was hemming about going with us.

“What was he hunting?” Sam asked.

Dean headed for the trunk and opened to reveal a hidden bottom filled with an arsenal of weapons and other tools of the trade. He muttered to himself where something was while Sam questioned where Dean was when John disappeared.

“Working a voodoo gig down in New Orleans. What? I’m twenty-six.” He pulled out some papers and turned around. “Here. Dad was checking out a two-lane blacktop outside Jericho California about a month ago. The car was found, but he completely vanished.”

Sam took the paper and unfolded it. It was a newspaper article with the headline of "Centennial Highway Disappearance" with the date of Sept. 19th 2005. A man’s picture was shown with the caption of “Andrew Carey MISSING".

“Maybe he’s been abducted?” I suggested.

“Here’s another in April,” Dean continued, tossing down a paper. “One in ‘oh four, ‘oh three, ‘ninety-eight, ‘ninety-two. Ten in the past twenty years.”

I took a closer look at all the papers. “They’re all men; on the same stretch of road.”

“It was happening more, and Dad went to dig around. That was three weeks ago.” Dean fished out a tape recorder. “Then I got this.” He hit a button, and the gears started moving.

“Dean, something big is starting to happen,” John’s voice emitted from the recorder. His voice was staticky and the whole thing sounded broken up. “I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.”

The tape stopped.

There was something on that tape that pulled at me; like there was something that nagged at the back of my mind.

“Play it again,” I said. “There’s something on it.”

Sam had a flash of mild surprise while Dean had a smirk. Buttons clicked and the tape player worked the cassette back.

“It’s an EVP,” Sam said when the player came to a stop.

“I slowed it down, took the hiss out, and got this,” Dean said before hitting play.

“I can never go home.”

What did that mean? Never go home. Did something happen where the ghost is unable to return? Or unwilling to return? Either way, something happened and the ghost had unfinished business.

“I hadn’t bothered you for two years,” I caught Dean saying, a plea in his voice. “Never asked for a thing.”

Sam went silent in the way someone would when they were thinking about it. “Alright, I’ll help you.”

Dean moved to close the trunk.

“But I have to be back Monday. Wait here,” Sam continued before moving back to the apartment building.

Dean turned back around. “What’s first thing Monday?”

“I have a... It’s a job interview.”

“Skip it,” Dean said.

“It’s a law school interview. It’s my future on a plate.”

“Law school?”

“We can work on getting back,” I dared.

Both men turned their attention to me, seemingly having forgotten I was there during whatever went between them.

Sam headed back into the apartment building while Dean closed the distance between us.

“What was that?” he demanded.

“I know what it’s like to work for something. I used to be a nurse, remember? I busted my ass to get where I was before the Djinn decided I was a good next meal.”

“What does that...”

“You’re pulling Sam from a life he’s been building to chase after John and my brother. How fair is that? My life is most likely dead because of how I left and what was left behind.”

It was something that I wasn’t willing to think too much about. I was nearly killed by a Djinn, who was posing as a nurse. Said Djinn was killed and left behind in the hospital room while Dean and I left. Even if I was found innocent, the hospital wouldn’t have me around considering there had been other mysterious deaths when I was present. The reputation of Nurse Death would have been whispered before the Djinn case. If I was to survive after finding John and Tyler, I needed to find another job.

Sam appeared a few minutes later with a couple packed bags that he tossed into the trunk. I slipped into the back seat while the brothers took the front seat; Dean in the driver’s seat and Sam in the passenger seat.

<<Chapter 9>> <<Chapter 11>>

[creativepromptsforwriting]

List of Superpowers

An incomplete list of powers that can be used for good and evil.

amalgamation – ability to merge existing creations

attack powers – blasting, shock waves, object projection, fire breath, laser vision, etc.

creation – ability to create out of nothing

dream manipulation – ability to change dreams

echolocation – ability to determine locations through reflected sound waves

elasticity – ability to stretch their body in any way

element control - ability to control the elements

emotions manipulation – ability to manipulate the emotions of others and themselves

empathy – ability to feel and replicate the emotions, moods, and temperaments of others

energy absorption – ability to absorb energy from people and objects and use it

enhanced physical skills – like senses, stamina, strength, accuracy, intelligence, speed, etc.

fear inducement – ability to evoke extreme fear and horror in others

flight – ability to fly

hypnosis – ability to hypnotise and manipulate others

immortality – not being able to die

immutability – not being able to get altered by outside forces

invisibility – impossible to see

invulnerability – being immune to all forms of physical harm

knowledge replication – ability to replicate the knowledge and skills of others

levitation – ability to levitate in the air

magic – conjuring things

mind control – having control over another’s mind

omnilingualism – ability to speak and understand every language

portal creation – ability to create portals for transport

psychokinesis – ability to move energy and matter

reality warping – ability to manipulate reality

regeneration – ability to rapidly heal

replication – ability to replicate people (including themselves) and objects

self-detonation – ability to self-explode

shapeshifting – ability to change their appearance

telekinesis – ability to move objects with their mind

telepathy – ability to communicate through their minds

teleportation – ability to instantaneously travel

temperature resistance – ability to survive extreme temperatures

vocal mind control – ability to control people with their voice

x-ray vision – ability to see x-rays

More: Hero & Villain Masterpost

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! And check out my Instagram! 🥰

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Strangle Hold

“Strangle Hold” Characters: AerynxDean, Ketch, Mary Words: 1,154 Summery: Aeryn’s standing guard over Toni while Dean and Mary are connected via the mind meld machine. She catches Ketch before he gets into the library. Warnings: None other canon blood

Tags: @percussiongirl2017 @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnfanficpond @winchester-reload @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @dean-sam-winchesterbros @justjensenanddean @because-imma-lady-assface

I paced near Toni Bevel, gun in hand. She was secured by handcuffs in a chair. The amount of trust I had in her not escaping was non existent. Especially since Dean and Mary were hooked up to the mind meld machine. There was no chance I was going to leave them alone with someone that wanted us dead.

Bevel shifted in the chair and I glanced at her.

“Would it kill you to get me a cushion?” she asked.

“No. I like to see you suffer just a little.” I still didn’t like her abducting Sam and tormenting him.

Something squeaked from beyond a door way. My stomach twisted. There should only be four people in the Bunker; two on the mind meld machine, one cuffed to a chair, and myself. I was the only one free to roam. With a tightened hold on my handgun, I dared to move from Bevel.

There had been times I hunted alone, the one year after Skull Cemetery and when the Leviathian Dick Roman exploded. This time was different; there was no back up. No rescue. Whoever managed to sneak into the Bunker could not reach Dean and Mary.

My head turned ever so slightly; sensing someone to my left. A fist connected hard to an eye. That would be a black eye and a possible broken orbital socket.

The hit sent me back off my feet. A second came before I could recover.

The man, had to be with the strength behind the hit, knocked my gun out of my hand.

“I should have removed you months ago,” a voice with a British accent said.

Ketch.

He never was a fan, having spoken a few times I should have taken on more of a support role instead of hunting with the boys.

I was the unwanted hunter in the eyes of the British.

I straightened, fists coming up as I did so. I feinted right, feinted left, and managed contact with the right. Ketch stumbled back a couple steps. He wasn’t able to recover as I linebacked charged him against the wall. There was a gasp of air against my hair when the breath was knocked out of Ketch. I managed a couple hits to his face.

He managed to free himself, throwing me off of him. I couldn’t let him get to Dean and Mary. I hadn’t cared much for Mary given what she had done, leaving the boys and working with the British. But Sam and Dean deserved to have her.

My knee threatened to buckle as I stumbled, and Ketch seemed to have noticed. A small smirk flashed before he kicked out.

A scream ripped from my throat as I crumbled to the floor. Ketch moved from the hallway. I couldn’t move even when I heard his and Bevel’s voices from the library before a gargle came.

Shit.

Groaning as I worked my way to the wall for support, my leg protested being used as I gained my feet. My knee threatened to buckle in that first step from the wall as a fight started. A table shattered from someone being thrown into it.

Ketch spoke something about Dean getting Mary back. I charged as fast as I could toward Ketch.

“That is not how this ends,” Ketch said. “This ends with me ending you.”

I didn’t make it before he and Dean threw punches, with Ketch having the upper hand. One of his punches throwing Dean to the floor.

“You know what your mother said about you,” Ketch continued, oblivious to me half stalking him. “All those long days and even longer nights?”

My leg giving out just at the right time in my charge as Ketch reached down for Dean. I wasn’t expecting to do much.

Ketch threw me to the ground.

“Don’t you dare…” Dean threatened right before a table leg smashed into my knee.

A scream tore from my throat at impact. There wasn’t a second hit as Dean grunted in his attack against Ketch. The pain washed over my body even as I reached out to an intact chair, using it to pull myself to my feet. I willed my body to move faster than what my knee was willing to give.

I charged Ketch in a linebacker way, failing when my knee buckled. He caught me, spinning me around where I could see Dean, and wrapped his left arm around me.

“Damn man’s psycho,” I called out. I struggled against Ketch’s hold, unable to free myself. “Leaving us in the Bunker. Wasn’t aware he was stupid.”

“I may be many things,” Ketch said as I felt cool metal against the side of my head. “But I’m not stupid.”

Dean’s expression went from defeat to barely contained anger. Someone threatened his family member. There had been a time I hadn’t earned that. Hell, I earned that anger when I told him about my Death Sight. Now I was family. I had earned is protection.

My hands instinctively went to Ketch’s arm; one hand accidentally grabbing his. My eyes went wide as a scene overlaid what I saw; Ketch on his knees right before his head went back from the force of a gun shot.

A shot echoed in the library right before a burning sensation registered on my right shoulder. Ketch released his hold, and I scrambled away from him even as Dean caught me.

“Mom?” It was a whisper. Dean helped me over to where Mary stood, kicking Ketch’s gun away.

When I looked at Ketch, he was on his knees, shocked to see Mary training her gun on him.

“I knew…” he grunted. “I knew you were a killer. All three of you.”

“Damn straight,” I replied. I jolted into Dean when Mary let out a single shot into Ketch’s head.

“De…” I barely got out before collapsing.

“Aeryn.” Dean eased me to the floor. He directed Mary to grab items while holding me. “Stay with me.”

“You look how I feel. Like shit.”

That got a meager smile. “Think you can get up into a chair?” With the adrenaline gone, my body protested any movement as Dean helped me into a chair. Mary returned with medical supplies, which Dean dug into.

I hissed when the first of the antibiotic ointment touched an open wound. I brushed his hair out of the one on his forehead. His hands slowed. He didn’t look up.

“Dean.” My voice was soft, my throat sore from the screams.

He looked up, tears in his eyes. One escaped down a cheek.

“Help me to the showers,” I requested. “Get this blood off me.”

Rushed boots echoed in the Bunker as I gained my feet; supported by Dean. Sam came into view, worry on his face. Worry that washed away when he saw the thee of us no worse for wear. He came over and pulled us all into a hug.

[6irlpet]

i dont want a childproofed internet i am almost 30 fucking years old. give your kid an internet safety talk and stop making it the problem of every adult on the planet every time some cryptkeeper legislator gets the brilliant idea (via conservative lobbying) to push through yet another bill gutting our access to free expression + increasing the powers of the surveillance state + lining the pockets of Big Data in the name of Protecting The Kids they wont even feed. this shit is exhausting i can’t believe we’re going to be fighting about it for the rest of my life

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Late Night Research

@impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @spnfanficpond @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface @mrswhozeewhatsis @mariekoukie6661

9x07 Late Night Research 

I couldn’t sleep, so I slipped into the library and curled up on an armchair with a book in hand. Dressed in a three x shirt that barely covered my boy shorts underwear, my legs were tucked to the side under me.  

The book nearly did its job in luring me to sleep when I heard the light shuffle of bare feet on the floor. With the late hour, it could easily be Dean heading for the kitchen for a late night snack.  

The light must drawn him like a moth. 

“Come back to bed, Sweetheart.” Dean’s voice was husky with sleep.  

“I couldn’t sleep.” I glanced up at Dean, not fully looking up from the book. Old nightmares had crept up recently.  

“What’s wrong?” He walked over and lightly kissed my head. “Anything I can do to help?”  

“Stupid unicorns fighting rainbows,” I muttered.  

Dean knelt down with a worried expression. I hardly use the code words for nightmares and how bad they were. We were all bad about not talking about our feelings and what was bothering us, yet for me to speak about it was a sign that I was about to crash. 

“We’ll take a vacation,” Dean began. “Just us.” A course hand started lightly rubbing a leg. “Some place warm.” 

The idea was tempting, yet with what money? Even with us using one-star motels, we were few hundred dollars short of a good vacation I wanted. His hand moved up my thigh, teasing its way up to my boy shorts.  

“That’s...a good idea,” I breathed when the hand worked its way between my legs, the middle finger pushing against the fabric. “When do we leave?” 

“In the morning. I got the perfect place already picked out. Just pack a swimsuit and a change of clothes.” 

“I don’t...have a ... swimsuit.” 

“All the better.” 

I shifted, knocking the book down from the armrest, unfolding my legs from under me.  

Dean adjusted his hand, the pressure increased slightly against the boy shorts as he sought out my clit.  

“If we’re to leave...” My words drifted away as Dean settled between my legs, hands lightly tracing their way up my inner thighs. “...We should leave soon. Leave...note...Sam.” 

Fingertips brushed against the hem of my boy shorts and a light breath filtered through the fabric. “Sam’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.” Dean pulled my boy shorts down, my hips lifted on their own to make it easier. “I wanna take care of you.” 

A finger probed at my entrance, as if it was ensuring I was slick enough before continuing. A second finger joined the first and found that spot right behind the front of my pubic bone.  

A relieved moan escaped as my body slumped back in a way that opened my legs more. My hands slipped up under my shirt and teased my nipples, working them into a tensed hardness that would take being sucked on to ease the tension. My vaginal muscles worked against Dean’s fingers even as he added working a thumb against my clit. Hips thrusted against his hand as I struggled to reach a climax. The small part of me that wasn’t needing the release that an orgasm brought knew that Dean was drawing it out; trying to make it last. 

I didn’t need it drawn out. I needed it now. 

“Dean,” I moaned, vagina working as hips thrusted.  

The fingers pulled free as both hands came to rest on my hips; fingers dug into them right before pulling them to the edge of the chair. His mouth latched onto my clit, sucking on it while the tip of his tongue swirled around it.  

He knew what he was doing. All those years of paying attention to what drove women and kept them going for hours paid off. Dean would ensure I had my orgasm first before worrying about having his own pleasure.  

A couple of fingers slipped back into my vagina; it clamping down on them. Dean’s free hand slid up my abdomen and cupped a breast, squeezing it.  

“Dean,” I moaned, my hips thrusting against his mouth. “So...” 

He pulled away and looked up at me. “I want to see you when you come,” he said, voice husky with his own lust. His breath cooled my wet skin when he spoke.  

The two fingers that were in me pushed further in, the tips putting just enough pressure on my walls to have me throw my head back in pleasure. My body using the chair to prop myself up in the need for release. My toes curled against the cool tile floor. 

“That’s it,” Dean coaxed. “Come for me.” The hand that was on my breast moved to a thigh. “Let me see that glow.” 

Fuck. I needed that orgasm; the one only Dean could bring about. One...Two...Three hip thrusts timed with his fingers working against my vaginal walls came before they clamped down around the fingers. 

A groan escaped when my body spasmed from the orgasm and rush of endorphins coursed through my body. Eventually my body relaxed and a pair of hands roamed over me. His tongue lightly lapped at the juices that slid from my vagina.  

“You taste so good, Sweetheart,” he muttered.  

“Dean.” I propped up to look down at him.  

His gaze met mine with a need in his eyes. Whatever he saw in my eyes had him standing and picking me up. My legs wrapped around his waist and the obvious bludge rubbed against my sensitive clit. We bumped into a table, and I sat on the edge. Dean’s hand slipped between us before the faint noise of a zipper being undone hit my ears. My hands joined his hand to undo his belt and the button that held up his jeans. His hand freed his tightly strung dick and rubbed it against my still slick vagina.  

My legs pulled him toward him, needing to have his girth grinding against me. He didn’t resist as he guided himself into my slick entrance; a groan escaping from him. We remained still for a moment, somehow content being connected. Dean started pumping, ensuring he didn’t fully pull out. My hips tilted forward for more stimulation. Groans were muffled in the attempt not to be too loud. It was the downside of having a shared living space. The Bunker was spacious, but noise echoed.  

“Aeryn,” Dean moaned before he tensed, burying his face in the crook of my neck; moaning into it.  

A second, less tense, orgasm passed through my body as Dean filled me with seed. My head fell forward and rested against Dean’s body. Fuck. I missed having the raw passionate sex sessions with Dean. The thought of finding a decent hotel room just for the two of us where we could go all night. 

“Come on,” Dean said, freeing himself from me; tucking himself back into his jeans and buttoning it up. “We’ll continue this in my room.”

[idreamofhazeleyes]

You Chose

@mariekoukie6661 @mrswhozeewhatsis @spnfanficpond @littlegreenplasticsoldier @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @because-imma-lady-assface

7x02/7x03 You Chose 

Dean brushed up against me while I sat reading up on the case. It was one of his ways he got my attention. I ignored it. He had made his decision a year ago between me and Lisa. I really didn’t blame him as Ben did in a way act and look like Dean. Yet there was that hurt. That same hurt wasn’t there when I met Cassie. Hell, I prefer Cassie over Lisa. There was something about Lisa that grated my nerves.  

Dean brushed up me again, trying to get my attention. I shifted away from him. 

“What’s up with you?” he asked, a little hurt.  

“I’m trying to read this case.” 

“That’s not it. You’ve never minded ...” 

“That was before.” 

“Before what?” 

I sighed and turned to face him. “You don’t get it. Other than my pcos, we were good. Hell, we could have settled down together after Skull Cemetery. Yet, you decided on Lisa. Now that Lisa and Ben’s memories have been wiped due to them being captured by demons, you fell back to me. It’s not fair to me or them that I’m the second choice. You need to earn whatever trust and build whatever’s left of our relationship back up.” 

Dean slumped a little, hurt by my words. Some guilt bubbled up seeing him hurt, yet I had to voice my feelings. I respected their relationship enough and valued myself enough not to lower myself to being a second so soon after what happened. He straightened in the way someone mentally came to a decision after working it out.  

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

He’s promised a lot in the five years we’ve hunted together. This was the one promise I didn’t put much stock into. 

“How can I trust that when you ran after Lisa when we discussed life after it all?”  

The plans we half made in the cheap motel after a night of end of the world sex had dissipated the night Dean knocked on Lisa’s door. I didn’t bother going after him. I had gone to Bobby’s until I got my own place. 

Dean pulled away, hurt I tossed that in his face. “You’ve met…” 

“Yeah, I’ve met them. There’s a chance that Ben could be yours. There’s also a chance he’s someone else’s.” I got up from the chair, needing space from Dean. “It’s gonna take time, Dean.” 

I walked out of the safe house, needing more space from Dean. There had been a glimmer of hope of having a normal life, back before he came to get me to chase after John and Tyler. Now we’re haunted by the memory of Lisa and Ben.  

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Snow Quiet

@mrswhozeewhatsis @percussiongirl2017 @spnfanficpond @littlegreenplasticsoldier @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface @mariekoukie6661

Year break between S5 and S6

Snow Quiet 

I pulled up close to the house and turned the engine off. Cold started to seep into the car as I sat there debating if I actually wanted to head into the house or not. My financials weren’t enough to rent out a motel room and food for the next few weeks. There was another car I didn’t recognize. With the car getting chilled, I climbed out and grabbed my things from the trunk.  

Knocking first, given how I didn’t call Bobby and he would most likely be at the door with a shotgun aimed at my body. Easing the door open, I came face to face with Bobby holding a shotgun at me. He lowered it with a look of relief. 

“Damn it, Kid,” he said, half cursing me. “Call next time.” 

“Sorry, Bobby. I was trying to beat the snowstorm.” I held up a six pack. “I got more out in the car.” 

Bobby stared at me for a moment, as if he was pondering letting me into the house. He lowered the shotgun. “Take it you chickened out going to check on Dean?” He turned back into the house. 

I followed suit, putting the beer down on the counter. “Why put myself through that torture? He made his decision.” I pulled out a beer and opened; taking a good drink of the piss water. 

Bobby reached out and pulled the bottle from me once it came away from my mouth. “Enough of that. You're not going to be here and drown your sorrows. Go get comfortable then come help sort through papers.” 

I eyed the beer on the counter before trudging upstairs to change. It was the small luxury that Bobby gave me when we all started coming around more often in the past five years. “A break from the boys,” he said.  

“You sure about letting her stay?” a voice asked as I came downstairs. It took me a minute to recognize it was Rufus. “She’s been in her own place for months. Hell, Bobby. She’s been out of the life for six months.” 

“I know, Rufus. I couldn’t turn her away. We’re due for a storm and I didn’t want her freezing or starving.” 

I came into the living room just as Rufus turned and took a look. “Hi, Rufus.” 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

On My Own

@mariekoukie6661 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mrswhozeewhatsis @idreamofplaid @littlegreenplasticsoldier @impala-dreamer @spnfanficpond @because-imma-lady-assface

5x21 On My Own 

I stood next to Bobby as I watched Dean drive away. It had been a couple days since the events at Skull Cementary and the two of us talked. More like Dean said he was going to Lisa’s. I refused to speak to him after that. After all our talks of settling down after ending the apocalypse, he decided that Lisa and Ben were a better option than me. In a way, I didn’t blame him, yet with all the shared trauma and events we’ve been through, it hurt.  

“Come on in, Kid,” Bobby invited. He turned back for the house. 

The dust kicked up by Baby dissipated as Dean disappeared down the road, taking any hope that I had he’d turn around with him. If he didn’t wanna be with me, fine. I couldn’t force him to be with him.  

Bobby didn’t push the issue over the next few days while I helped him field calls from other hunters and ran local cases. Eventually I started looking for normal jobs, ones that didn’t risk my life. Bobby used some connections to secure a line cook job in town. One that paid enough for a small one-bedroom apartment. It was more than I could want in the past five years. That first night I was unable to sleep. It was hard being on my own. 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Life Changing Discussion

@mariekoukie6661 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface @mrswhozeewhatsis

5x20/5x21 Life Changing Discussion 

The door barely closed behind me when Dean was on me in anger; Bobby a step behind him in a failed attempt to hold him back. My back was against the door and Dean was a step and a half away from me.  

“Where’ve you been?” Dean demanded. “I coulda…” 

“Taking care of personal things,” I snipped. “Gods forbid I get some actual medical care.” 

“The apocalypse is here and you’re dealing with medical issues.” 

“Yes, Dean.” I pushed off the door and into Dean’s personal space. “Dealing with medical issues.” 

“What issues required you to go alone?” 

“Female issues.” 

Dean huffed.  

“Get off, Dean. You don’t need to know everything about me. I’ll say this, have you ever thought how many times we’ve gone at it or I’ve had a one night stand and I’ve never had a scare after I took a test?” 

The expression that passed over Dean’s face as he was able to piece together the information. 

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, kid?” Bobby asked. 

“That I’m infertile? No, I’m not. My hormones are all fucked up. Even if I did wanna have kids, it’d be difficult.”  

“So what?” Dean asked, shrugging it off. “It means more ...” He drifted off from a look from Bobby.  

“Is that why you made that doctor’s visit?” the older hunter asked.  

I plopped into a kitchen chair. “Yeah. Says I have poly cystic ovary syndrome. My ovaries produce the follicles for the eggs but don’t die off or release the egg. Too much testosterone is being produced.” I sighed. “Go, have your fun, Dean. Have your white picket fence.” 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Doctor's Visit

@mariekoukie6661 @spnfanficpond @squirrelnotsam @because-imma-lady-assface @impala-dreamer @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mrswhozeewhatsis

5x20 Doctor’s Visit 

I sat on the table, trying to hold the gown closed while my legs swung lightly. There was a knock at the door before the obstetrician walked in with my file.  

“Hello, Ms. Kelly,” she greeted. “I hear that you have some concerns about your menstrual cycles.” 

I sighed, preparing myself to open up to someone about my worries. “Yes. I’ve noticed in the past year or two that I’ve had irregular cycles and despite my diet not changing much and regular exercise. I don’t know what’s causing it.” 

“Well, what’s your daily life like? And how active are you?” 

“I run about every other day when not driving across country. I do occult and supernatural studies and how crowd mentality is affected.” It was close enough to the truth. “Healthy meats and veggies and fruits. Once in a while I do have a burger or something like it.” She didn’t need to know how often I ran after or from monsters. “There’s been a few days that I’ve craved sweets and binged. Feeling bloated and tired afterwards.” 

“Well, I have taken a look at your ultrasound, and there are cysts in your ovaries. Between that and your other symptoms, I’m confident in saying you have poly cystic ovary syndrome. Basically your hormones are unbalanced, leading to the irregular cycles, possible thin hair patches, and the sweet cravings. There’s medications we can try…” 

It explained so much. Why when I was tired even with six hours of sleep, all the exercise I still felt overweight, and the months between cycles.  

“I’ll think on the medications, doc,” I said. “My life’s a little chaotic at the moment.” 

“Understandable. Call me if you want to discuss medications. Any questions?” 

I shook my head. “I think that’s it.” 

“If you do, feel free to call.” She saw herself out, leaving me to dress and check out. 

[idreamofhazeleyes]

Safety

Post 15x20

Another take on Aeryn's solo hunt in 15x20 It deals with PTSD and (semi) canonical wounds.

@mrswhozeewhatsis @spnfanficpond @winchestergirl-13 @squirrelnotsam @idreamofplaid @percussiongirl2017 @littlegreenplasticsoldier @because-imma-lady-assface

My body hurt. I was aware of that before I was fully conscious. Fragments of memories from the past few weeks leaked forward. The missing kids. The masked vampires. Jenny, the woman that had been turned by the vampires seventeen years ago. The attempt to hold me as a hostage to get Sam and Dean. The fight in the barn. Nearly getting caught on the piece of rebar. Somehow getting the kids and myself to a hospital before passing out. Consciousness came and went during that hospital visit where I barely registered voices. Getting discharged and being helped into a vehicle, using a person for comfort during the drive. Being helped out and to a bathroom to be wiped down and changed into clean clothes.  

My eyes squeezed tight as the barn fight replayed. As if that would make the image disappear. The more the fight continued in that slow way dreams seemed to take, the more my body moved.  

The vamp was determined to impale me on that rebar. Every time I slip out from its grasp, the fight restarts. I fought against the hands that shook me. Everything screamed it was the vampire as it drove me backward.  

My eyes shot open as a scream tore from my throat just before impact on the rebar. Fists connected with a pillow even as I struggled to free myself. My body tangled in something as I rode the panic induced adrenaline rush, pushing myself against the floor. Seconds passed like minutes due to the adrenaline before it started to come down.  

When the panic eased, I took glances around my surroundings. Queen bed, messed up covers, bed room. It was one of the spare rooms in Jody’s place. I heard muffled voices through the mostly closed door. Not wanting to be alone with the lingering thoughts, I worked myself off the mattress, stumbling and catching myself on the dresser. Once stable, I caught sight of me in the mirror. It reflected numerous bruises, cuts and other half healed wounds. Those were partially covered by a well worn oversized tee shirt that ended a little too short and a pair of clean boxers. 

I was a complete mess. There’s been hunts were I had injuries and walked away. Not like this. Something told me that it was time to retire. 

My right arm was wrapped around my body as I left the room, using the walls for support. Of all the fights and battles, including the one against Amara, this one against the vampires messed me up on a whole new level.  

“…out for two days,” Dean finished as I came out into the living room.  

I paused just inside of the hall entryway, not ready to be seen and watched Dean pace while Sam seemed to be unsure how to comfort him. Dean had about two weeks worth of stubble and his usual short hair had grown out. Even Sam had some stubble. There was little chance that the vamp hunt took three weeks. There’s no way I lost track of that length of time. 

Sam’s eyes flicked over Dean’s shoulder and widened just as Dean stopped and followed his gaze.  

He rushed over before I could limp two steps forward. A leg buckled just as Dean reached me. He caught me and eased me down to the floor, going with me. He pulled me close, cradling me. “You should be resting.” His voice was soft.  

A hand grasped his shirt and my face buried into his chest. “Don’t make me try and sleep. I ca...can’t.” 

“Shhh. You’re safe here. We’ll stay here as long as you need.” Dean adjusted so he leaned against the wall, his arms wrapped around me as if he minded a large wound on my back.  

Sam moved around the house in a way he was gathering items. I ignored him for the most part, merely relived to be safe and not dealing with a new nightmare. He stopped by once and offered Dean something. I moaned from being shifted slightly when Dean adjusted a little. He gave a soft shh and I closed my eyes. 

“Hey, Aeryn.” A hand rested on my right arm. Sam waited until my eyes opened. He had medical supplies between us. “I need to take a look at your back.” 

“Do we need to do that now?” Dean half argued? “She’s stressed out...” 

“I’m right here.” I attempted to push away from him. “What’s wrong with my back?” 

They shared a look before Sam sighed and pulled out his phone. Seconds later he showed a picture of my back from when I was in the hospital.  

My upper back looked like some failed attempt of a bloody eagle. A ragged gash dragged from my spine to the right side of my back. Dried blood still clung to my skin and what was left of my shirt had been cut away and barely covered my chest. No wonder my back was on fire. I could have died.  

“Help me with the shirt.” I managed my left arm easily enough; partially aware I wasn’t wearing a bra. At this point after everything we’ve been through for nearly two decades, I didn’t care. The number of times we’ve all spent patching each outer up numbed me from avoiding certain body parts.  

Dean’s hands brushed against my lower back and sides as he helped lift the rest of the shirt up and over my head. A hiss escaped when the fabric brushed against the bandages. The shirt was quickly pressed against my chest as Dean attempted to preserve any sense of decency I could have. The medical tape pulled at my skin as Sam began. The gauze was gently peeled away. Sam stopped for a moment before showing me a picture how my back currently looked. Still fresh and red, the gash had been stitched together. 

“We’ll take all the time you need,” Dean said as Sam applied a cool ointment and fresh gauze. 

“I’m done hunting.” It was a whisper. If it hadn’t been for Sam slowing a fraction, I would have sworn neither heard me. 

“We’ll take...” 

“I’m done hunting,” I cut him off, louder. “I could have died.” 

“Okay,” Dean said after a few seconds. “Oh. Sam; bring the test results.” 

I adjusted against Dean as Sam brought over a small stack of papers; handing them to me. 

“Think a three bedroom house is too big?” Dean asked as my eyes fell on the highlighted results. “I figure we have about eight months to get ready.” 

[teaboot]

As someone who grew up with "I'm not going to praise you for doing what's expected of you; that's not being good, that's doing the bare minimum" I want to encourage you to celebrate every little thing you can. Everything that takes energy and effort should be appreciated and you're allowed to be happy about trying.

[teaboot]

If it's hard to do then it's not nothing. Be proud of yourself