anybody out there still follow my account? Just curious….. I want to write, but don’t really have the motivation…. anyone out there?
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anybody out there still follow my account? Just curious….. I want to write, but don’t really have the motivation…. anyone out there?
anybody out there still follow my account? Just curious..... I want to write, but don’t really have the motivation.... anyone out there?
Drabble #15
Dean: 17 Sam: 14
“Wake up. Y/N, get up.”
You roll over in bed and open your eyes to the grizzly face of John Winchester. He gives your shoulder one more shake, then walks out the room. His heavy boots beat a steady beat as he went across the hall the boys’ bedroom.
Fighting against sleep, you prop yourself up on your elbows as you listen to John wake his two sons. Dean of course woke up almost instantly, as if he’d been waiting to get up. Sam was a different story. You were dressed and had made your bed by the time the youngest Winchester finally awoke from his sleep.
You and Dean reach the bathroom at the same time and share the sink as you brush your teeth. You try not to look up at the mirror, where Dean’s face is perfectly angled. In past few months, you stopped seeing him as a brother figure, but as a man. An attractive one at that too.
Almost a year ago, John Winchester had taken you in after your family was killed by a malevolent spirit. Without question, he had brought you back and treated you as family. Well, as close to family as John could get. Thankfully, you hadn’t had the best childhood, so John’s parenting skills weren’t a complete letdown.
“Y/N, you okay?”
You lift your eyes to see Dean staring at you. He’s done brushing and even combed his hair. You’re standing there, toothbrush still in your hand and paste in your mouth. A blush creeps into your cheeks and you hastily spit into the sink. Lowering your head so he can’t see your embarrassment, you go about finishing the morning ritual.
“Sammy, get the lead out of your pants.” John barks from the kitchen. You follow Dean to the kitchen as Sam dashes into the bathroom. “Hurry it up, kids.”
It’s barely light outside as you enter the kitchen and head straight for the fridge. Ever since coming to live with the Winchesters, it has become your duty to prepare meals. At times, you hate the sexist delegation, but have come to realize that no one besides Dean can actually cook. John burns everything- even water. Sam just refuses to learn. Before you came along, Dean did all the cooking for his father and brother. The two of you trade off from time to time.
John sits at the table, writing in his journal, while Dean takes apart his gun and cleans it. You grab eggs and quickly make scrambled eggs. John and Dean are eating by the time Sam makes his entrance. You know he does it on purpose to irritate John. And it works every time.
“Sammy, you can start running laps.”
The youngest Winchester plops into a kitchen chair. He reaches for his plate of eggs, but John is too quick for him and moves it away.
“What? I don’t get to eat breakfast.”
John looks coolly at him. “You’d have breakfast if you made it here on time. Laps. Now.”
It was a tone even Sam didn’t disobey- at least not today. The lanky teen stood up, making his chair legs scrape the floor, and stormed outside.
You noticed Dean had stopped eating to watch the interaction. He lowered his eyes to his half empty plate as John continued his meal. It always bothered him: the discord between father and son. Even when he started eating again, there was a stiffness in his shoulders that told you he was on edge about the two. You knew it wasn’t over. It had only begun.
After breakfast, you and Dean joined Sam outside and ran the remainder of his laps with him. John liked to keep his sons in shape for the hunts, and he had included you in the regime. Once the required laps had been met, all three joined Winchester at the back of the apartment building. There was a small grove of trees, and a field out back. Hardly anyone was awake anyhow, so John always had you target practice.
Dean handled his gun like it was extension of himself. To say he had been born with a gun in his hand wouldn’t be too far from the truth. John had started him young and the boy had grown into a master shot.
Sam wasn’t too bad himself, though he barely tried. While Dean aimed to please his father, Sam did the opposite. Whatever he could do to make the old man’s skin crawl.
John positioned himself the three shooters, having the perfection angle to observe all of their shots. Dean fired several rounds and hit the target dead on. Sam missed every round he shot, though he managed to hit yours, knocking it over.
Dean jumped up and ran the distance to the targets to set yours back up, when Sam stretched and knocked your arm. Your finger slipped and the gun went off, dirt spraying right at Dean’s feet.
“Sammy!” John barked. “Watch it!”
You sat back on your heels in horror, mortified that you had almost shot Dean. He jumped at the gunshot and spun around to see what happened. He must have seen your horror, because he smiled his sun-bright smile and yelled, “I’m bulletproof.... but please don’t shoot me!”
If you would like more of this, please request more! Either an idea, or pick a drabble number from my previous post.
Drabble Ideas
Go ahead and pick a number for me to do a Drabble on!
1. "I'm too sober for this"
2. "Hey, hey. Calm down. They can't hurt you anymore"
3. "I need a place to stay"
4. "You're seriously like a man-child"
5. "That's starting to get annoying"
6. "Well, that's tragic"
7. "You can't banish me"
8. "She's hiding behind the couch"
9. "I lost the baby"
10. "I'd kill for some coffee... literally"
11. "They're so cute when they're asleep"
12. "You're getting crumbs all over my bed"
13. "Good thing I didn't ask for your opinion"
14. "I don't want to hear your excuses"
15. "I'm bulletproof- but please don't shoot me"
16. "Its six o clock in the morning. You're not having vodka "
17. "The diamond in your ring is fake"
18. "How drunk was I?"
19. "How is my wife more badass than me?"
20. "I haven't slept in ages"
21. "I locked the keys in the car"
22. "Take your medicine "
23. "They're monsters"
24. "Welcome to fatherhood"
25. "It's your turn to make dinner"
26. "The kids ambushed me"
27. "Sorry isn't going to help when I kick your ass"
28. "I feel like I can't breathe"
29. "You need to see a doctor"
30. "This is girl-talk, so leave"
31. "Where am I going? Crazy. Wanna come?"
32. "Just get home as soon as possible"
33. "You smell like a wet dog"
34. "I could punch you right now"
35. "Welcome back. Now help me"
36. "Flea markets don't carry fleas- you do know that don't you?"
37. "Here take my blanket"
38. "You're bleeding all over my carpet"
39. "We need to talk "
40. "Just smile. I really need to see you smile"
41. "I'm not wearing a dress"
42. "I hope I'm never stuck with you on deserted island"
43. "Does he know about the baby?"
44. "Stay awake"
45. "I am not buying IKEA furniture again "
46. "Tell me that you need me"
47. "Oh honey, I'd never be jealous of you"
48. "You're not going to starve yourself on Thanksgiving "
49. "You can only suffer through my whining for so long before you get me a sandwich
50. "Where's your Christmas spirit, Scrouge?"
Reblog this if you’re a Supernatural blog
I need to find good Spn blogs to follow so please reblog this
Hello! I was wondering if you ever wrote part 4 to Long Road Home? It's really good :3 I came across it a while ago and again just now. Just wondering what happens to reader and if Sam and Bobby figure everything out. Thanks ^_^ I hope you have a good day/night.
Thanks love! I've actually just started writing a part 4. Anything you'd like to see happen? I could use a few suggestions:) I'm hoping to have it up within the week....
Sins Of The Fathers
Word Count: 2007
Warning: Graphic injuries
Fandom: Supernatural
“Dean Winchester, give that back!”
A chuckle is all I get in reply and he takes off around the corner. I growl, feeling frustrated, yet having the urge to engage in the chase. Dean has a maddening affect of making me mad and happy at the same time. Like now. I had been trying to do some research with Sam, and Dean had walked in and stolen my notebook. It wouldn’t really matter, but I had written some other stuff in there that didn’t exactly pertain to the job.
“I said give it back!”
“You’ll have to catch me!”
“You son of a-” my curse is cut off by nearly running into John Winchester. He grabs my shoulder to keep me balanced, his bearded face unsmiling.
“I thought I told you kids no running in the house.”
“Yes, sir, it’s just- Dean took my notebook.”
John sighs heavily, and I can mentally hear him groaning about our shenanigans. “Dean! Give Y/N her notebook back.”
A dirty blonde head appears around the corner to the kitchen, Dean’s green eyes still twinkling with mischief. But he obediently comes over so John is between us.
“Give it to her, boy.”
“Aw, come on, Y/N, play along.”
“I want it back.”
“Why? You scared I’m gonna read it?” Dean grins as he opens the cover and begins to look at the first page.
“Mr. Winchester!” I cry, terror filling my being.
“Dean, give it to her.”
“Is there anything about me in here? How you can’t think of anything but me? Or how your dreams are full of-”
“Dean, enough.” John takes the notebook from his hands and gives it back to me. I’m sure my face is as red as the plaid on Dean’s shirt, and I run out of the room to hide my embarrassment.
In the few months I’ve known the Winchesters, Dean has been my favorite. His sarcasm and rugged good looks have me wrapped around his finger. It was out of kindness that John allowed me to live with them in the first place, something about a debt to my dad. Both my parents died last year, so I joined the dysfunctional Winchester family. Just let me say that for a sixteen year old girl, being in a house of two teenage boys and a father is not easy.
I close the bedroom door behind me and go to my bed, sliding the notebook under the pillow. Not the safest hiding spot, but the boys have been forbidden from my room by their dad. And they listen. Well, Dean does, Sam is a little rebellious to say the least, but this order he obeys.
As I return to the living room to continue my research, I catch a part of John’s sentence in the kitchen.
“I know you like her, Dean, but you need to simmer down. Girls don’t like to-”
“Dad, I- I don’t like her like that. We’re just friends.”
“Uh-huh. And so were your mother and I. Mark my words, Dean, treat her right. Y/N is a good girl, and I promised her father that I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”
A warm sensation starts in my stomach. I fear John Winchester. He can be so calloused and harsh at times. I often wonder if I am just a burden to him. Hearing him talk about the promise makes me like him a little.
Dean’s denial bothers me a little. I had never expected him to like me, not the way I like him. But hearing him confirm my fears puts a little crack in my heart. I continue to the living room, plopping down into the chair across from Sam.
He glances up and shoots me a questioning look. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
Three Years Later
I grab the Colt, cock it and unload the precious shell into the dark figure pinning Dean to the wall. The demon gives a scream, then returns to its fiery inferno with a flash of light. I shove the Colt into my belt, running to where Dean has slid to the floor, choking and pressing a hand to his side.
“Hey, hey, you’re gonna be okay.”
“The Colt-” Dean gives a cry as I apply pressure to his wounded side. “Dad’s gonna kill us.”
“I’ve got the Colt, and it’s only missing one bullet now. Mr. Winchester can’t blame us for what happened.”
Dean groans, and I know why he’s so worried. John has been obsessed lately with finding the yellow eyed demon and using the Colt to destroy him. We had split up earlier, he and Sam going to the outbuildings, while Dean and I searched the house. He had trusted me with the Colt, making me swear not to use it under any circumstances. But I was constantly defying John’s orders. Why would tonight be any different?
“Come on, we’re gonna get you to a hospital.” The wound to his side is deep and blood is just spilling from his body. I grab his hand, helping Dean to his feet. He inhales sharply, ever playing the tough guy and refusing to let on how much pain he’s in.
With Dean leaning heavily on me, we step out onto the porch as John and Sam come running up.
“What happened?” John yells. “I heard the gunshot.”
“Dean, are you okay?” Sam rushes to his brother’s other side, supporting him so all the weight isn’t on me.
“Y/N, where’s the Colt?” John’s eyes are fixed on me, completely ignoring his son who is bleeding to death.
“Not now, we’ve gotta get Dean to a hospital.”
“Tell me you still have the Colt.”
I want to scream at him as Dean groans softly, doing his best to hide the pain. I pull the Colt from my belt, tossing it onto the ground in front of John. I don’t care if I break the stupid antique.
“There, you happy?”
“Dad, we’ve gotta go. He’s losing a lot of blood.” Sam’s tone shows his concern, for which I’m glad. At least I’m not the only one with some sense around here.
John picks up the Colt like it’s a fragile piece of glass and checks the chamber. His face turns red, and I can feel the heat from his anger from where we’re standing.
“You fired the Colt?”
“Dad-”
“After you promised not to?”
“Dad, please-”
“How could you?” John is shouting now. I ignore him as the boys and I make our way to the Impala. “I told you not to use this gun, didn’t I? We only have a certain number of bullets.”
“And you only have two sons.” I snap, opening the car door so Sam can help Dean in. “I used that stupid bullet to save your son’s life. Your welcome, John.”
“You promised me-”
“Yeah, well, I broke it.” I’m just as angry as he is now. And while Winchester is taller than me, I get up in his face and shout, “You’re a freakin’ maniac, John! Your son is hurt- he could die- and all you can think about is that stupid gun and seeking your revenge! Are you even hearing me right now? Your son is hurt, John!”
“Don’t ever disobey my orders again, Y/N, or so help me…”
“You’ll what? Kick me out? Shoot me yourself? Go ahead, Winchester, take your best shot.”
“Y/N, stop.” Sam grabs my shoulder and pulls me toward the parked car. “We need to go. Now.”
I turn my back on John and climb into the backseat beside Dean. He’s trembling from the pain and I ease him down so he’s lying down on the seat. His head rests in my lap and I run my fingers through his hair.
Sam starts the car as John climbs into the passenger seat. The Impala moves onto the highway and we begin the long drive back to town. Unbearable silence sets my teeth on edge. I’m still angry. Really angry. Everytime the Impala jolts or takes a sharp turn, Dean grunts softly as his injury is aggravated. That makes me even angrier.
“Hang on, Dean.” I whisper, my fingers running through his now sweat dampened hair. “We’re going to get you some help.”
He nods, his eyes closed. My heart- despite being angry- breaks to see him in such pain. I’m fearful as my clothes begin to soak up his warm blood. Nothing I do seems to staunch the steady flow, and soon, Dean doesn’t groan anymore when he’s jilted.
“Dean, stay with me. You’ve gotta stay with me.”
“Y/N?” Sam asks, trying to look back while keeping an eye on the road.
“Go faster, Sam!” I cry. “Dean, open your eyes. Please, open your eyes.”
“Dean?” John has turned in his seat, reaching over to touch his son.
“Get your hands off of him!” I don’t mean to shriek, it just comes out that way. “Don’t you dare touch him.”
Thankfully, we pull up at the Emergency entrance just then and Sam jumps out to get help. Within minutes, a pair of medical personnel run out and get Dean onto a stretcher. I try to follow them down the hall, but a nurse stops me and makes us all wait in the waiting room.
Being in the same room as John is impossible, so I pace the small hallway in front of the nurse’s station. One or two sweet looking ladies stop and ask if I’m okay, and I tell them I’m fine. I guess I look a sight with my clothes all covered in blood.
Minutes pass by, hours drag on. My body refuses to pace any longer and I sit down in a chair by the nurse’s desk. I tell myself that I am only going to close my eyes for a moment, when I’m being shaken awake.
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I look up into John’s face. Anger resurfaces, but then I see the the red in his eyes, the lack of sleep evident on his face. His drooping shoulders are a tell-tale sign that he has been worried.
“Dean?”
“He’s resting. Doctor says he’s gonna be okay.”
I sink back into the chair, relief hitting me hard. I don’t mean to, but tears begin to roll down my cheeks and it’s impossible to hold back the sobs. John kneels down beside the chair and rubs my shoulder. I can’t be mad at him right now. Later. I’ll be mad later.
“Y/N, I’m sorry. You- you were right. I’ve become so blinded by my need for revenge that- I’ve lost sight of what’s really important.” He sniffs, which surprises me. Not once have I ever seen him show emotion like this.
“I love my boys. I really do. And I’m grateful that you used your good sense when you did. If you hadn’t, Dean might not be here right now. You did a good job.”
“Careful, John, you don’t want to let yourself be known as a softy.” I tease through my tears. He cracks a small smile.
“We’re lucky to have you. And I’m glad Dean has you looking after him. You two were meant for each other.”
“Oh, no, we’re not like that.” I can feel my cheeks flushing. “He doesn’t think of me like that. We’re just-”
“If you say just friends, I’m gonna laugh.” John shakes his head. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Y/N. And I know my son better than you think I do. Dean’s in love with you. Never doubt that.”
“How do you-”
“Trust me. I know.” John stands up and walks away, his hands in his pockets just like Dean does. I watch him disappear around the corner, my head spinning with this new piece of news. Is John right? Is Dean really in love with me?
I stand up, walking down the hall to find Dean. I needed some answers.
Incantations In The Night
Note: I had an account several months ago, but stuff happened and it was deleted. I managed to save a few of the stories I wrote, so here’s one of my favorites! Hope y’all enjoy it!
Warnings: demon possession, blood, detailed injuries, minor language, drama, emotional, and mentions of kidnappings…. just be warned!
Word Count: 3854
Characters: Dean x Reader, and Sam:)
“Who ate the pie?
I shrug, still thumbing through the large book of folklore. Dean slams the fridge door and walks into the living room, arms crossed in front of him.
“I’m only gonna ask one more time.”
“And I’m only gonna deny it one more time.” I retort, which makes Dean narrow his eyes. He comes to stand in front of me.
“Y/N, did you eat the rest of the pie?”
I’m trying very hard not to look at him, but his green eyes are like magnets and they draw my gaze upward. He nods slowly.
“You did, you little liar.”
“Pretty little liar.” I mutter. At his puzzled look, “You know, with the pretty cursive writing and all the mayhem- you know what, never mind.”
“You scare me sometimes.”
“Says the guy who watches General Hospital.”
“You’re distracting me.” Dean waves his hands in the air as if wiping away the words. “You ate the last of the pie, and you lied about it.”
“I have done worse.”
“So the way I see it, you only have two options.”
“Hit me, baby.”
“One, you have to buy drinks tonight; or two, you have to go buy more pie.”
“Weighing my options- and my wallet, I’m gonna go with number two.” I stretch out my hand, flexing my fingers in a ‘gimme-gimme’ gesture.
Dean reaches into his pant pockets and pulls out his keys. He drops them in my hand.
“Obey the speed limits and do not stay on the gas until you hit the curb.”
“Bye, Dean!” I laugh, slamming the door behind me. The Impala is sitting in the parking lot, her black paint shining in the sun. I slide into the driver’s seat, the leather bench seat creaking pleasantly under my weight. Turning the key, the engine roars to life. I grip the steering wheel. Dean has just started to let me drive Baby, and I’m super excited about it. Not just about driving the car, but the fact that Dean trusts me. And that we’re deep enough in our relationship for this.
I head to the market with a smile on my face and Alannah Myles singing Black Velvet on the radio.
Forty-five minutes later, I park the Impala outside the hotel and grab the two paper bags from the back seat. I’m feeling good with my trip and know that the boys will be too. Balancing a bag on each arm, I walk to our room. I pause at the door to free one of my hands when I hear voices coming from inside.
“So, things seem to be going pretty good for you two.” Oh boy, Sam’s digging, I can hear it in his voice.
“Yeah, so?”
“Just curious what your plans are.”
The couch creaks and an empty beer bottle clinks. “What’s your point, dude?”
“Come on, Dean. You two are great together. I mean, I honestly don’t think you can do any better than Y/N.”
“I agree.”
“Great. So, don’t you think it’s time to take the next step?”
“Are you telling me to propose?”
“Well, yeah, I am.”
Dean laughs, but it’s a sarcastic one. I’m glued to the spot, unable to walk in or walk away.
“You’re out of line, Sammy.”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I just thought you should know that I approve. We haven’t really gotten a chance to talk about- you know, a future- and I wanted you to know how I feel about it.”
“Great, thank you. Because that was all I was waiting for. That was the only thing holding me back from asking Y/N to marry me. But now, the way is clear.”
“Dean, what’s the deal? Unless you don’t want to get married- which I wouldn’t believe for a second.”
There’s a loud sigh from Dean and the couch creaks as he stands and begins to pace the floor.
“No, it’s not that. It’s- it’s complicated.”
“Which is usually the case in this family.”
“I mean, come on, Sammy. Y/N doesn’t want to settle down with me. She has dreams. She wants a family. She wants a house. How can I give those to her?”
“Well, the family part, you just climb into-”
“It’s not funny, Sam.” Dean sounds genuinely distressed, which surprises me. I didn’t know this was bugging him. I wouldn’t have told him about my dreams, but he had gotten me drunk and everyone knows I prattle when I’m on alcohol. Sure, I want a family and a place of our own. But I’m not stupid. We’re hunters, first and foremost. I wouldn’t do anything to change that.
“Have you talked to Y/N about it?” Sam is asking.
“No, not yet. I want to- but I know what she’s gonna say. She’s gonna say that it isn’t important, and she can put her dreams aside. I won’t let that happen. She deserves everything she wants and more. I wish I could- I don’t know.”
“You’re not thinking about leaving the family business, are you? Dean, this is what you do. You’ve never done anything else.”
“That’s not true. I’ve worked with Bobby at his place. I know cars. And- hey- what’s about that summer I worked at the Dairy Queen in Lincoln?”
“Dean, you were sixteen.”
“But I have experience. Big time bosses like that kind of thing.”
I turn and hurry back to the car then. I put the bags back in the Impala and get inside. Baby is parked several rows down, so the boys can’t see me from the hotel room.
How can Dean even be considering leaving the family business? Sam’s right. It’s all he’s ever done. He would die if he had to work in an office, or stay in one place for more than a month. He’d grow angry and bitter, and he’d come to blame me for it. Why can’t he see the truth? I want to shake him, slap some sense into him.
I pick up my cell, then put it back down. I want to call Bobby, beg him to help me- but I can’t. No one can know that I was listening in on the boys’ conversation. I feel bad enough with just me knowing.
Somehow, I am gonna have to find a way to change Dean’s mind. To make him see reason.
With this conviction, I gather up the bags and head to the hotel room again. This time, I don’t pause at the door. I bang it with my boot and a moment later Sam has it open.
“Hey, Y/N. Need a hand?”
“I’ve got it.” I push past him and set the bags on the table. “Operation pie retrievement, success.”
“What kind?” Dean has gotten up to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder.
“Apple and cherry. There’s ice cream in that bag, and, Sam, there’s those Nature Valley bars you like right here.”
Sam grins as he accepts the box of granola bars- which are, in my opinion, just pieces of cardboard with nuts in them. Dean takes the pie containers and puts them in the fridge.
“What? You’re not gonna dive in?”
“I’ll eat it later. Sammy’s got a job for us.”
I turn to Sam, now noticing the laptop and books on the table. “Really? What’s the gig?”
Sam picks up a printed paper, holding it up so I can see the picture. “Woman missing for three months found alive.” I lift an eyebrow. “So? She and casanova ran out of money and lies, so she returns home.”
“Not exactly.” Sam rifles through a few more papers, handing me a thick vanilla folder. “Tamera Jackson went missing three months ago. She was married with one child. Family says she was a model wife and mother, and devoted to them both.”
“Even the faithful can fall.” I mutter, sitting down on the couch and opening the file. It’s a police file, detailed down to the letter.
“Yes, but, not Tamera. Up until the day she disappeared, folks said she was perfectly fine. Nothing suspicious, no strange phone calls, no sign of someone trying to contact her.”
“Okay, so she was kidnapped- do they have money?”
“That’s what I said.” Dean grabs one side of the file so we’re both holding it. “Just your typical American family. Mortgage on the house, husband works a fulltime job, the grandparents even had to step in and help with the kid’s schooling.”
“Okay, so we’re not dealing with a ransom.”
“No, but you were close with the kidnapping thing.” Dean turns the pages to several pictures of the woman after she was found. “She shows up at her doorstep last week. These pics were taken that day when one of the neighbors called the cops, reporting a strange woman loitering around the place.”
“Sissy found her way home.” I mutter.
“What?”
“The cat from Homeward Bound. The three animals that found their way- forget it.”
I pick up one of the photos. A middle aged woman is staring into the camera. Her face looks like someone has used it as a punching bag. Her clothes are filthy and torn, her blonde hair matted and unwashed.
“Wow, not the picture to send into Vogue.”
“Right?”
“Okay, so she was kidnapped and beaten, then she escaped. What does any of this have to do with us?”
“I spoke with the investigating officer, who took her statement.” Sam leans forward in his seat. “Get this: she has no recollection of the past three months.”
“What, like amnesia?” Dean’s frowning.
“They don’t know. All she remembers was waking up in the backseat of a car. She got out and started walking until she got home.”
“This still doesn’t sound like our kind of gig.” I start to close the file, when something catches my eye in the photo.
“I spoke with the husband just a little while ago. She was in town or something, so I haven’t spoken to her yet. But the husband said that she’s different.”
“After what she went through, is that really so surprising?”
“Well, sure, but this stuff doesn’t fit into your usual post trauma. He said that she hardly ever sleeps. He will find her walking around the house, turning on and turning off lights. Even the daughter has sensed a change and asked to go stay with the grandparents.”
“Guys,” I hold up the photo. “do we have a before pic? Before she went missing?”
Sam frowns and sifts through a few papers, pulling out a family picture. “This was taken two months before she went missing.”
I take the photo and hold it against the recent one. Many differences, and the original gal looked so happy and sweet. But my suspicions are raised when I notice that there is no difference between the two’s weight.
“Did the police say if she was abused or anything by her capturers?”
“No, but it’s pretty clear that she was.”
I bite my lip and Dean leans towards me. He studies the pictures, then looks at me.
“What are you thinking?”
“Is it just me, or is Tamera the same exact weight she was when she disappeared?”
“Yeah… so?”
“Typically in situations like a kidnapping, the victim is either starved or refuses to eat. Anxiety and stress can cause weight loss, and if she was missing for three months, she would have lost an excessive amount of weight.”
“Maybe-”
“And look at her skin.” I point to her face and arms, tracing the wounds. “Those bruises are brand new. So are the cuts. There are no signs of healing, which means they would have been inflicted in the last four hours before this pic was taken.”
“What are you saying?”
My breath catches, flashbacks blacking out my surroundings. “I’ve seen this before.”
“Really? Where?”
“My dad.”
I slam the trunk shut, shoving the pistol into my belt. Check my pockets for salt filled casings, then make sure my iron plated knife is in my boot.
Dean loads the shotgun with salt shells, cocking the barrel in place with a click.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?”
I nod. The boys have been asking me to tell them what had happened to my dad, but I’m not ready. I haven’t moved on from that horrifying experience, and I’m definitely not ready to talk about it.
“Y/N, hold up.” Dean grabs my arm, holding me back as we are about to cross the street. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’ll be a heck of a lot better once we gank this SOB.”
“Look, I know this means a lot to you. But you’re really in no condition to go in there.”
A part of me want to snap at him, but I know what he’s driving at. Demons tend to posses people who are under a lot of stress or are afraid. Dean’s worried that I’ll be fair game for a new meat suit and he’ll have to take me down with the demon.
I lay a hand against his cheek and offer him a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”
“Just be careful, okay?” He reaches up and pulls my hand over to his lips. He kisses it gently, whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Hey, lovebirds!” Sam’s loud whisper snaps us back to reality. “We’ve got action.”
A light has turned on in the small house across the road. A figure passes by the window. Dean motions us forward, and we cross the street.
Thankfully, the Jackson’s daughter is staying with the grandparents. It makes me sick to think of a helpless child in the same house as this demon.
Moving as silently as possible, we open up the bag of salt Sam has been carrying and begin to dump its contents at every entrance to the house. Once every window and doorway is salted, we go to the back door. Dean picks the lock and the door swings slowly open.
“Remember, we catch Tamera and trap her.” Dean whispers, tossing a spray can to Sam. “Y/N will exorcise her.”
“Got it.” Sam begins to spray a Devil’s Trap on the ceiling of the kitchen, while Dean and I slip into the living room. There’s a light on in the hall and Dean signals that he is going to check it out. I pull out my pistol, cocking it and holding it in position.
There’s a rush of air behind me, and I whirl around to nothing. A bad feeling starts in my gut. There’s a presence in the room, but I can’t see it.
Dean steps into the hall, and the door slams shut behind him. The door to the kitchen slams and there’s the sound of a lock being turned.
“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Dean’s banging on the door, kicking and ramming his body against it.
It’s dark, and that feeling in my gut is twisting into a nasty fear. I try to steel myself so my fear isn’t noticeable, but a light flicks on behind me.
Tamera is standing next to a lamp, her black eyes reflecting the light. She cocks her head and smiles.
“Hello again. Miss me?”
“It is you.”
“Of course it’s me. Who else would it be?” She walks in a wide circle around me, her eyes never taking their focus off of me. “Glad we could have a moment to talk alone.”
“You could have just called. You didn’t need to hurt an innocent woman to get close to me.”
“Well, I was going to use your cute boyfriend, but he was- well, not easily accessed.”
I’ve got my pistol trained on Tamera, my finger inches toward the trigger. Tamera’s eyes narrow and I’m flung against the back wall. An invisible force holds me there as she approaches.
“Don’t try that again, little girl.”
The door to the hall bursts open and Dean rushes in, aiming a shot at Tamera. It just misses her and she pins him to the wall.
“Well, well,” Tamera chuckles. “two for the price of one, aren’t I the bargain hunter?”
“What do you want?” I manage. The force holding me is tight and my chest feels like it’s being squeezed.
“I want to finish the job.” Tamera moves in close, her mouth close to my ear. “You see, you were supposed to die a long time ago. And the people upstairs are very upset that you’ve lived this long.”
“You mean downstairs right?”
Tamera ignores me and walks over to where Dean is struggling to free himself. “Cute guy, Y/N. And I’m sure you love him and he loves you, blah, blah, blah. But I’m sensing some doubt. A little fear. A little deceit. I wonder how strong that love is.” She taps her chin with a finger. “I know, let’s see.”
Hot searing pain tears down my side as the flesh is ripped open by something invisible. I scream out loud, the warm blood trickling down my shirt.
“Stop!” Dean cries, fighting against Tamera’s power. “Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
“Aw, do you hear that, Y/N? Pretty boy pleading for your life. I don’t know about you, but I want to hear a little more passion.”
Screams rip through my throat as something sharp tears through my chest, digging deep so I can feel it go through bone.
“NO! STOP! Y/N!”
The pain is overwhelming and I can feel the blood pouring down my body onto the floor. Somewhere in the background, there’s a loud bang and the sound of a gun being fired. The force that’s holding me vanishes and I fall to the ground.
Looking up in a haze, I can see Dean getting up and rushing over to me.
“Hey, hey, oh my gosh. Don’t worry, you’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you to the hospital.”
“Tamera. We’ve- got to- finish.”
“Sam will take care of it.”
I shake my head, trying to push myself up. “No, I’ve- got to- do it.”
“Y/N, you’ve lost a ton of blood, there is no way-”
“I- need to do- this.”
Though everything is slowly spinning like a fun house, I can see Dean’s green eyes looking intently into mine. He presses a kiss to my forehead, his touch warm and gentle.
“Okay, but we’re gonna make this quick.”
Sam has Tamera tied to a chair under the Devil’s Trap. She looks out of it as she sluggishly tries to fight against the iron chains holding her down.
“Dean, what-” Sam’s voice of concern cuts through the nearly crippling pain. “You two should get out of here. I can finish-”
“She wants to do it.”
“Look at her, she can’t.”
“I’ve tried, Sammy. She wants to do it.”
Dean’s arm is really the only thing between me and the floor, and I’m beginning to rethink my stubborn decision. Blood is still dripping onto the floor, and it’s really hard to breathe.
But Tamera lifts her head and looks at me, her glossy black eyes looking right through me. Memories of my father’s horrible death give me the needed strength to open my mouth and mutter the words of the exorcism.
“Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos,”
Tamera jerks in the chair, screaming in rage. She thrashes and shrieks curses at us.
“Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus,”
“You filthy SOB,” Tamera hisses at me. “Think you can destroy me? Think again you little-”
“Ut coven tuam secura tibi libertate servire facias-” I choke a little, tasting blood. Dean’s grip tightens around my waist and he’s sending Sam panicked looks.
Tamera is smirking, her face swimming before my eyes. I gag on the blood welling up in my throat.
“Stop! What are you doing to her?” Dean cries as my knees buckle.
“I’m not doing anything, you idiot. She’s dying.”
“Y/N, let Sam finish it.”
I shake my head, struggling to recall the next words in the incantation.
“That’s it.” Dean starts to gather me in his arms. “Sam, finish this-”
“Doesn’t work that way.” comes a sing-song voice from the chair. Tamera is grinning and no longer struggling against her bonds. “Only the person who starts the incantation can finish it.”
Dean looks to his younger brother and Sam nods. “She’s right, Dean. Y/N is the only one who can finish it.”
“She’s never gonna make it.” Tamera’s sings.
Dean’s hand lifts my face close to his. “Come on, baby, you’ve gotta do this.”
I try to hold up my own head, but it feels so heavy on my neck. It’s hard to draw a breath now and everyone seems so far away.
“Baby, please, you can do this. Please, just a few more words.”
I close my eyes, seeing the words on the page of the book of prayers I’ve been studying since I was five. Taking a ragged breath, I whisper,
“Benedictus Deus,”
“No! Stop!”
“Gloria Patri,”
“STOP!”
“Come on, you can do this!”
“Benedictus Dea,” I choke, the blood running down my chin. “Matri gloria.”
Tamera shrieks and a cloud of black smoke erupts from her mouth. The demon cloud swirls upward, trapped within the Devil’s Trap. In a flash of red light, the demon is gone.
“You did it! You did it, baby!” Dean touches his forehead to mine.
“Let’s get her out of here.” Sam opens the back door as Dean picks me up in his arms. They run across the street, every jolting movement bringing on a new wave of pain.
Sam climbs in the front, while Dean sits in the back seat, stilling holding me in his arms. My head is resting against his shoulder, my blood staining his grey t-shirt dark red.
“Step on it, Sam.” Dean barks. He smooths back my hair, his thumb caressing my cheek. “Hang on, Y/N. Stay with me.”
I’m still gagging on blood which is blocking my airway. I’m so scared.
“It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay, baby.”
“Dean- I- can’t-”
“I know. We’re almost there. Just hang on. Dang it, Sammy, go faster!”
A shadow falls over us. It’s hard to see, and I can only see Dean’s outline.
“Y/N! No! No, stay with me! Look at me, baby.”
“Dean,”
“I’m right here. You stay with me, alright?”
“I- love- you.”
Complete and utter darkness.
I full year since I wrote this! dang
“Okay, that was really detailed.” Sam grimaced.
“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I just told you all of that.”
“Don’t forget the flowers, Dean.”
“Yeah, I got it.”
“And don’t forget to clean out the Impala before asking her.”
“Sammy, I know.”
“And Dean,”
“What?”
“Remember to shake her dad’s hand.”
“Dude, I know; I’m not an idiot!”
“Y/N, look at me. Eyes on me. Hello? What the heck are you staring at?”
“Dean? Come on man, you gotta focus. Stop. Stop looking at her.”
Cries In The Night PT. 3
Thank you SO much @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama for requesting this little series and for being so flipping awesome! You have been so sweet and patient with me:) Lots of love, sweetie.
Also, thank you (you, reading this right now) for taking the time to read this. You’re amazing too and I appreciate you! Have a great night everybody and God Bless.
Screams woke you from the recurring nightmare. You sat up in bed only to find the screams were coming from you.
“Y/N? Hey, baby, it’s okay.” Dean’s arms went around you, but this time, you pushed him away. “Baby?”
“I can’t do this, Dean.”
“What are you talking about?”
You body trembled from the left over terror as you climbed out of bed. Padding across the floor, you went to the window that overlooked the parking lot.
“Y/N, you can talk to me. I wanna help. But I can’t unless you tell me what’s going on.”
He was right. You knew it. It had been two days since the confrontation with the demon and you hadn’t said a word about it. All Sam and Dean knew was that it had been a false alarm and the demon had never showed. No one had died that night.
“Dean, I-I’m scared. Terrified actually.”
“Of what?”
You turn to face him. His green eyes hold such concern and love that you feel like melting. You jump onto the bed and throw yourself into his arms. Sobs burst from your chest like overly held back flood waters.
“I was six when my mom died,” you wept. “I heard my baby sister crying in her room and thought it odd Mom hadn’t gotten up with her. So I went in and found a man standing by her crib. When I called out, he vanished and I looked up in time to see my mom on the ceiling before she burst into flames.
“No one ever believed me. People said I had dreamt it. Some said I made it up to explain her death. But it did happen.”
“Just like our mom.”
“Yeah. I guess that’s why I became a hunter. A man in town heard about my story and he believed me. He taught me everything I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about all of this? I would’ve understood.”
You didn’t doubt it for a second. “I wasn’t ready to relive it myself. The nightmares are so real. So terrifying, that talking about it might make them real again some how. I don’t know how to explain it.”
“They’re just dreams, Y/N. What happened to your mom was a long time ago. It’s done.”
You shivered as you sat up and looked Dean in the eye. “Tonight, I didn’t dream about my mom. I dreamt about you.”
“What?!”
Dean crossed his arms, a look sour enough to beat a lemon. “That’s what she said.”
Sam shook his head, looking over at you in disbelief. “But you said it was a false alarm!”
“I was scared, okay? I’m sorry. It isn’t everyday that I have one-on-one conversations with demons.”
“So he challenged you?”
“Dared me, is more like it. He doesn’t think I have what it takes to hunt him down.”
“And you won’t either.” Dean stated firmly.
“What?”
“Y/N, the creep is strong enough to escape a devil’s trap. Who knows how strong he really is, but I’m guessing pretty dang strong. I can’t let you take on something like that.”
“This demon killed our moms.” you argue. “We can’t just sit by and let him escape. We need to end him.”
“No, it’s too dangerous.”
“Dean,” Sam interjected, looking just as angry as you felt. “she’s right. He killed Mom. And Y/N’s mom. He has to be stopped.”
“Sam, I said no.” Dean held up a hand to stop any further arguing. “That’s it. It’s done.”
Later that day, you went for a walk to try and clear your head. It didn’t help much. After twenty minutes, you were back at the motel. As you went to open the door, you heard the boys’ voices coming from inside.
“Dean, it’s not like you to back down from a fight.” Sam stilled sounded angry. “You’ve wanted to kill this thing just as bad as I have. Why won’t you end this?”
“I have my reasons, Sammy.”
“What reasons? Huh?”
“Y/N, for one.”
“What about her. She wants this thing dead too.”
“Have you seen her lately? She’s terrified.”
“If I could remember what happened to Mom, I’d probably be scared too.”
“No, Sam. You haven’t heard her scream at night. Watched her wake up crying hysterically. Held her as her body shakes from fear. Held her and tried to comfort her, but there’s nothing you can do.”
There was a long pause.
“I’m sorry, Dean. I had no idea how bad it was for her. For both of you.”
“There is no way I’m gonna put her through more.”
“Don’t you think closure might help, though. Putting an end to nightmare might make it go away completely.”
Dean sighed and you could imagine him shaking his head. “Yeah. Y/N would want to see this thing through. She’d want to hunt him. She’d want to prove that she’s a good hunter. But Sam, I can’t risk losing her. You’ve seen her. She’s not stable. The fear makes her weak and the demon could possess her. He could torture her or even me by forcing me to kill her to kill him.”
Goosebumps dotted your flesh as you stepped away from the door without entering. Dean had a valid point. You were at your weakest when it came to the demon. And he’d possess you in the blink of an eye to torture you.
But standing by was not an option. The demon had challenged you. Labeled you as weak. Pride alone had to be preserved. You would end the demon, or die trying.
Nothing was said about your listening in to Sam and Dean’s conversation. It became business as usual and you were glad for that. No one noticed the preparations you had begun.
You read up on demons till your eyes were bloodshot and you hadn’t slept in two days. You practiced drawing better traps and symbols to ward off demons. You started hitting the gym early in the morning and going for runs with Sam before bed. You talked Dean into little dates at the shooting range where you practiced your skills.
Neither brother was suspicious. You did it all without them seeing and made up good excuses to throw them off the trail. Sam was happy because he had a workout buddy. Dean was more than pleased to go on dates to the shooting range or answering any questions you might have about hunting.
Sleep was another story. Nightmares were still re-occurring, and you had slept-walked outside where Dean found you crying in the parking lot. He knew now what the nightmares were about and did his best to comfort you. But there was nothing to be done. Nothing, but end the demon to put an end to the fear.
Besides gaining muscle and knowledge, you had begun to work hard at hiding your fear. When the panic arose, you practiced little tricks to take your mind off of it, or to make it seem smaller than it was. It didn’t always work, but it helped.
After four months, you were ready. You told Dean you were going to see a friend and took Sam’s rental. Driving out into the country, you wanted to be as far away from the boys as possible. The demon would surely try to use them to get to you and that just couldn’t happen.
An abandoned barn fifteen minutes outside of town was the perfect place. You got to work right away getting the building ready. A sophisticated devil’s trap on the floor drawn in black spray paint. You covered the trap with dirt so it wouldn’t be detected. Several other traps were drawn and a gallon jug of holy water were placed where you could grab it.
Near the floor trap, your built a summoning altar. Anticipation and fear caused your hands to tremble as you lit the candles. It had taken you those four months to gather all that it would take to summon the demon. A few times you’d worried Sam or Dean would notice the odd ingredients.
All was ready. You spoke the words of the summoning spell from heart. And uttered the name you never thought you use.
“Azael, I summon you.” Crickets were the only sound. “I swear if you don’t show up, you sorry son-of-a-” The candles flickered and a shadow appeared outside the barn. You stood up and squared your shoulders.
“I must say, you made good time.” Azael praised, walking into the building like he was walking into a bar. “I didn’t think you’d have the guts to face me for some time.”
“Well, you didn’t give me a deadline. I took the challenge seriously.”
“I’ll say. Get a load of that altar.” He smiled. His yellow eyes were focused on you as he sauntered forward. “Pro level right there.”
Your heart hammered in your chest as he walked closer and closer. The trap was just a few feet away.
“I thought you’d be impressed.”
“Oh, I am. Even more impressed that your little boys aren’t here. You came all on your own, like a big girl. I am im-”
“Y/N!”
Your heart ceased to beat when Sam and Dean ran in. Dean’s face was filled with terror when he saw you and the demon only feet apart. He moved to run toward you, but he was flung against the wall and held there by an invisible force. Sam also was sent to the other wall, their guns clattering to the floor.
Azael turned back to you, clicking his tongue. “Aw, and I actually begun to think you could do this on your own.”
“No, this is between you and me. I didn’t bring them here.” You had started to tremble, but managed to keep it inside. Your exterior was unmoving and straight.
“Yeah, but they’re here now. Such a shame too. I hadn’t prepared anything for them tonight. Oh well, a little improvisation and the night can still be fun.”
“Leave them out of it.”
With a whoosh, Azael was beside you, leaning in close so his lips were almost touching your ear. “And miss the chance to torture you? I don’t think so.” He inhaled your scent, making a big show of sniffing your hair and neck. Dean struggled against the force holding him.
“Mmm,” Azael breathed so only you could hear. “I can smell the fear on you. It’s so strong, any demon within a hundred miles can sense it. You can train all you want, study all you can, but you can never get rid of the fear that controls you.”
“Y-yes, I can. I’m not afraid of you.”
“But you are.” He ran a finger along the back of your neck, causing you to shiver despite yourself. “You fear me more than anything. That’s why you came alone tonight.”
Azael stepped away from you, moving to the middle of the barn. He raised his voice so the brothers could hear.
“You see, you’re not afraid of death. You’re not afraid of what I can do to you, or you wouldn’t even have tried to see me again. No, you’re afraid of what I can do. What I can do to him,” he pointed to Sam with a dramatic flourish of his hand.
“But most of all, him.” Azael turned to Dean, a smile on his face. “Our pretty boy there means more to you than anything else, doesn’t he? Don’t bother answering that, we all know it’s true. If anything should happen to him...” He shrugged. “What would you do?”
You stared in horror at him, unable to speak. Your legs like lead as Azael cocked his head to the side as if pondering a deep thought.
“What would you do?” he repeated. “Well, let’s find out.”
Dean let out a cry as something invisible sliced at his chest. You could see the fabric of his shirt tear and a deep wound appear. Blood trickled down his chest as he cried out in pain.
A scream echoed in the barn, but you didn’t know it was yours until Sam told you later. You lunged at Azael, throwing yourself at him. It didn’t take him by surprise and he pushed you to the ground. Dean was still yelling as more wounds were inflicted.
You grabbed one of the boys’ guns from the floor and fired a few rounds at the demon. It didn’t phase him much, but he turned to you instead of Dean.
“All right, let’s see what you’ve got.”Instead of using his supernatural powers, Azael used physical strength with you. The two of you fought, throwing punches, wrestling, and working hard to knock the other’s lights out. After several minutes, it was clear you couldn’t injure him enough to do serious damage. He landed a punch to your face that made everything go dark for a few seconds. You fell to the floor and panted as he advanced towards you.
Suddenly, he stopped. He raised a hand as if to touch an obstacle in his way and the expression on his face quickly turned to anger.
“What the-?”
You actually laughed, rising to your feet to look him in the face. “Like it? I made it just for you.”
Sam grunted as he pulled away from the wall, but Dean just dropped to the floor like a dead body. You started to run to him, but Dean called out weakly, “No, finish him. End it, Y/N.”
You struggled to turn and face Azael instead of going to Dean. He was glowering at you with his yellow eyes. He kept trying to break the force that held him, but there was no escaping.
This time, you didn’t reach for the book of prayers. You locked eyes with Azael and began the exorcism from memory. He began to flinch, then fight the powerful words.
“ Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos,”
“Stop.” Azael growled.
“Exorcizamus you omnis immundus spiritus,”
“Enough.”
“Y/N, Dean needs help!” Sam cried from behind you. Your focus shifted and Azael started to grin at your lack of concentration. It was a hard fight to shut out Sam’s panicked voice and focus only on the demon before you.
“Ut coven tuam secura tibi libertate servire facias-”
“Take me out, Dean dies.”
Panic welled up inside you.
“That’s right. Let that good old fear set in.” Azael was doubled over as if trying to cling to him mortal body. “If you send me back to Hell, Dean won’t have a chance.”
“Benedictus Deus,”
“I am not fooling, Y/N.” Azael was groaning as he tried to cling to this world. “You want your husband to die? You want his death to be on your hands?”
“Gloria Patri,”
Tears well up in your eyes as you realize that this could indeed kill Dean. Your breath caught and the words stuck in your throat.
Azael was panting hard and it would only take four words to finish him. To finish Dean. “God forgive me. Benedictus Dea,”
“Y/N, NO!” Sam yelled.
“Matri gloria.”
There was a loud shout from Azael as his spirit form burst from his body and ascended into a red flash. Then stillness. He was gone. The nightmare was over. It was finished.
“Y/N! He’s not breathing!” Sam’s cries whirled you around and you ran to where he was crouching over his brother.
Dean’s body was so still, it looked as though he were dead. Blood soaked his clothes and the ground beneath him.
“No, no, no,” you moaned, dropping to your knees and placing an ear to his torn chest. “No, Dean, no. You’re ok. Open your eyes.”
You couldn’t find a pulse and quickly started going through the motions of doing CPR. “Breathe. Just breathe. Come back.”
Sam was dialing 911 beside you.
“It’s ok. It’s over, Dean, you’re ok.” You pumped his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks. “Wake up. Please wake up.”
You kissed his face, disregarding the blood. “Don’t do this to me.” You were crying in earnest now. “Don’t do this to me, Dean, don’t do this to me!”
He remained motionless. You picked him up by the shoulders and pulled his head to your chest. “I love you. I love you so much. Come back.”
“Y/N,” Sam choked. “Y/N, he’s gone.”
“No! No, he’s not. Dean, come back. Please.” You laid him back down and resumed life support. “Don’t leave me. You can’t. I won’t let you.”
As you pressed your lips to his to breathe air into his lungs, he gave a choked cough. He inhaled sharply, his chest rising with the breath.
“Sam! Sammy, he’s back!” you cried.
Dean’s green eyes opened and when they saw you, he cracked a weak smile. “Hey, baby.”
You burst into a fresh flood tears and hugged him tight. He groaned when you put pressure on his chest, but that didn’t stop either of you. Your tears wet his cheeks as you kissed as though it had been years since the last one.
“It’s over, Dean,” you gasped in between kisses. “It’s finally over.”
“You did it. I’m so proud of you.”
I was wondering if you were planning on doing a part 4 for long road home it's a great story
Yes!! I've been thinking about it lately, and think I will soon:) everyone has been so sweet and patient with me, so a huge thanks to you all who stick with me!:)