Wow itâs been almost a year. âšWell, Iâll let you know why I havenât been on in so long. âšTo begin, I have hit a lot of bumpy roads in 2015. In 2016, Iâve tried to make it my mission to properly write something. Something worth reading. âšExcept it wonât be on here. âšTruth be told, Iâm fucking sick of Supernatural. Itâs not the show it was once upon a time; now itâs just a bullshit version of what it used to be. Iâm tired of watching them jump the shark, and I havenât even bothered watching this season. âšSo I will be writing a lot more this year hopefully; it just wonât be on this blog. âšI mean, Iâm gonna keep this guy up cause I like to go back and read my previous work, but you can follow me on wattpad and I will try to upload anything I deem worthy. âšThank you for reading. Goodbye for now & forever,âšBayli xx Wattpad: tarynbayliâšPersonal blog: @chlorophylllester
Warnings: Mentions of abuse, colorful language, etc.
Note: this kind of reminded me of Happy by Marina and the Diamonds towards the end. Go give that a listen because it's great, and that's where I got the title.
Prompt
You were always nervous around men, so it was quite a surprise for you when you actually accepted the Winchestersâ offer to join them on the road. They didnât ask about your past or the scars that protruded your jacket sleeves and collar. Hell, they didnât even know where you were fromâwell, not fully (they did know you were from Virginia, but that was it). They never brought it upâneither did you, but they must have sensed your need for space and let you have it.
That secrecy lasted for a good month before Sam found a job that took place in your hometown. Your anxiety spiked as you neared the east coast. Itâs been maybe two years since you were last here, and you remembered the reason your anxiety grew unimaginably quite vividly. His hair as soft and curly as a cherubâsâhis hands permanently calloused and stained from working on cars all day with knuckles that turn white as can be when you would piss him off in the slightest bit.
"You alright back there, Y/N?" Dean asked. His arched brow visible from the rear view mirror. "You look a little greenâŠif youâre gonna hurl, donât do it in my frigginâ car, capisce?"
You couldnât do anything but nod at him, not trusting your voice that was probably just as shaky and your hands. The irony of the situation was quite bizarre, though; you were somewhat brave enough to face the monsters that people tell stories about, yet your stomach twisted and knotted at the thought of perhaps running into the type of monster no one talks about.
"Are you sure youâre alright?" Sam was turned around in the front bench seat to look at you from a better angle.
You nodded again. âOh, yeah. Just car sick is all,â you replied.
Dean looked as skeptical as one could through a partial reflection in the mirror. âWeâve went from Montana to Georgia, but not once did you complain about carsickness, but all of a sudden youâre sick from an almost six hour drive from Kentucky?â He scoffed. âRight. Okay.â
"Look, I just forgot to take my Dramamine, alright?" You mentally cursed for answering a beat too early. "Jesus, Dean. Get off my jock, man."
Dean slowed to a red light before flashing you with the back of his hands in surrender. âDamn, whatâs up your ass?â
You raised an eyebrow, as if to say, try me. âCurrently? You.â
"Okay, guys. Seriously?" Sam glared at his brother. "Y/N, why donât you try to get some rest, then you and I can talk later, okay?"
Oh, God. He knew something was up. But you still played it cool and turned away from them as you tried to get your mind off of the monster that haunted you every time you closed your eyes. You couldnât help but let your mind wander to the last time you saw your small little town.
"Where the hell do you think youâre going?" He barked from behind you. Even after a year and a half you still jumped at the sound of his voice.
"Iâm leaving!" You retaliated for the first time in a while. He beat you to the set of keys of the small table by the couch. "Give me my keys, you son of a bitch!"
"Where ya gonna go, Y/N? You have no one." He was spitting fire on kerosene. Not even he would push those buttonsâŠwell, not until now.
"Iâll go anywhere but here." You pulled out your phone to call the emergency line.
"The fuck are you doing?"
"Iâm getting a goddamn escort out of here." He grabbed your wrist. His coarse fingers practically burned your skin as his fingernails felt as though they were about to draw blood. "Jonathan, get your damn hands off of me!" You pushed him away but not before he could take the phone out of your hand and throw it at the wall on the other side of the foyer.
"You are an ungrateful bitch!" He spat, stomping his foot. "I gave you everything, and this is how you repay me?"
Your blood was boiling as your legs grew weak. âUngrateful? Me? I was the one who cooked your fucking food and cleaned your fucking house and endured your drunk mood swings and your punches and slaps and the scars you left behind, both mental and physical.â You snatched Jonathanâs keys and bolted out of the house. Before he could reach the grass, you backed his truck out of the driveway and followed the stretch of asphalt until you reached the nearest motel.
You hopped out of the truck and shivered at the late-night chill tickling your bare forearms (that now wore five new crescent-shaped marks). âDamn it,â you cursed at the wind. You didnât think to pack anything, and there was no way in hell your were going back. Thank God Jonathan left his wallet on the dash. You were just about to go rent a room for the night until you heard the crunching of gravel behind you, causing you to noticeably tense.
"Nice ride." You turned around to meet a smoldering smirk. "Iâm a classic Chevy fan myself. The Impala a couple spots down is mine."
"Y/N." You groaned at the rude awakening, then felt a hand on your side and jumped. Funny, you donât remember drifting off.
"Boundaries, please." You looked at Sam, who gave you those soft, pitiful eyes. You stretched as the car was brought to a stop. You werenât too sore from the cramped bench, and you were grateful for the old carâs lack of seatbelt buckles for you to somehow end up sitting on.
"Look familiar?" Dean asked you. Confused at first, you looked out the windshield and saw that damned motel you first met the Winchesters at.
Great. Another relic to remind you of your screwed up past. You slid yourself out of the car and rhetorically asked, âSo are you going to sit there stuck in the past, or are you gonna get a move on and suit up? Thereâre people dying on our watch, boys.â
The two shared a baffled look, then followed you to do a costume change.
* * *
"Thank you, maâam. If you think of anything else that could help our investigation, please feel free to drop a line. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to speak with us, and again, we are sorry for your loss." You pulled a card out of your pantsuit pocket and handed it to the mourning widow and, with a polite smile, walked off. Dean was hot on your trail.
"Any ideas?" Dean asked.
You shrugged. âA couple.â He looked at you expectantly. âBut they wouldnât be exactly feasible until Sam returns with the coronerâs autopsy report.â
He grabbed your wrist gently and stopped walking. âWhatâs wrong with you?â
"I donât know what youâre talking about, Dean." You looked everywhere but his face.
"Donât lie to me, Y/N. I know somethingâs upâ"
Your head turned reluctantly towards the painfully familiar voice calling your name. Instinctively, you grabbed Deanâs hand and squeezed it.
"Wow," the man said after finally catching up with you. "You look different."
"Jonathan." You squeezed tighter, barely taking in his new appearance. His curls were shaved off and stubble covered his cheeks and chin. He also wore a black T-shirt that read USAF in gold. Good to know he moved his violence elsewhere.
He moved his gaze over to Dean, who was still trying to figure out what was going on. âWhoâs this?â
"Well, it was nice catching up, but we gotta go. Bye," you hurriedly added, pulling Dean to where he had parked the Impala.
Without a word, Dean pulled out onto the road and headed towards the hospital. âWhoâWhat the hell was that?â
In a calm manner, you quickly explained your previous life in the town and Jonathanâs douche-y ways and apologized for using him as a decoy. Then, you realized there was rough hand cradling yours and a thumb caressing the heel of your palm.
"I donât know ⊠I kind of enjoyed it," Dean murmured before pulling your intertwined fingers into his thigh as he pressed the accelerator down closer towards the floorboard. For once in your life, you werenât reluctant to show the slightest bit of vulnerability.
Author: Bayli
Word Count: 402Â
Warnings: None
Note: I will award the first person who correctly guesses what this was inspired by. They will get a follow, promo, and their request at the top of my list to do.
Every single time Dean drove back home to you he would always pass this lone flower that miraculously grew on the side of the road. Not once did he ever pay much attention to it. When he passed it, though, there was always this lonesome ache within him, yearning to be with you. Today, though, there was only a leaning stem. The sight radiated a solemn vibe Dean couldnât help but pick up.
He knew he wasnât trying his hardest relationship-wise, but he didnât really consider it a big deal; you loved him too much to leave, right? If that were true, he wouldnât be taking that road away from the bunker.
Any other time, Dean would have enjoyed the beautiful sunset casting a transitioning gradient of warm colors to deep blues into his rearview mirror; however, todayâs ride was different. Dean loathed himself for all of the could haves, would haves, and should haves. Maybe if he werenât so egocentric or so angst-ridden and humorless he wouldnât be driving back up this God-forsaken road searching for any sign of you.
Dean damned himself. He should have seen it comingâall the signs were right there in front of his face: you were noticeably more distant, and you called less while he was away. Still, Dean merely shrugged it all off with subconscious denial. He couldnât help the tears welling up in his eyes as he cried out to you. His heart ached and burned in a most physical sense.
Once Dean reached the intersection at the end of the road, he ran out of the car and yelled out for you in vain. He pulled out his cell and called you. Of course, the damn thing was disabled. Dean grabbed his hair with both hands in defeat. He couldnât help but think maybe things would have been different if he changedâmaybe you would still be here.
* * *
The sun splayed hues of yellows and oranges behind you as you walked down the dirt road. With everything you owned (which barely filled the bag halfway), you made your way to the furthest motel. A little red flower swayed with the wind at your feet. Any other day you would have picked it and brought it along and admired it along with the almost-sunset, but today was different; you were leaving and never looking back. With a swift kick to the petals, you trudged on.
Note: I do not have any affiliation with the song Ordinary Human by OneRepublic (nor do I own Supernatural for that matter)
Prompt
Not even a week after you finished the composition, you had a bad case of ear worm. Once your brothers left for their hunt, you were given the plus of having the bunker all to yourself, which gave you the opportunity to rid the song from your subconscious loop.
âToday I took a walk in the clouds,â you sang over the sizzling of the egg you were frying. âUsed to keep my eyes wide shut, but now Iâm staring down.â
And later in the shower, you found yourself singing as you lathered your hair with shampoo. âToday I felt a switch in my veins. Used to be a shadow; now a shadow scream my name.â
You used your brush as a microphone as you wowed the invisible audience wearing only a towel. âAnd in the daylight I could swear weâre the same, but Iâm just an ordinary human.â
The next day, that damn song was still stuck in your head. Your hair was knotted and sticking up and every other direction, and you showed no efforts in getting up and ready. âJust an ordinary human, but I donât feel so typical today.â
For the next few days, this continued. Down the hall, your voice echoed and bounced off the walls like a ball. âThereâll be peace in the city tonight, but when Iâm gone, I hope they get it right.â You chased this bouncy ball right into two unlikely figures you didnât plan on seeing for another couple of days.
âHow âbout an encore, Winehouse?â You turned quickly towards the direction the voice was coming from.
You subconsciously frowned. âSam, Dean, youâre both home early,â you stated as if it wasnât the most obvious thing.
âNo shit,â Dean replied. âWhat song were you singing?â
Looking down at the foot you were scuffing across the floor, you mumbled, âItâs just a song I wrote. Itâs nothing, really.â
âNothing? Shut up, youâre crazy talented,â Sam retorted. You flashed them a small grin. âSo, uhâŠ, do you want to sing any more of that song for us or what?â
You gave him your best are-you-stupid? glare. âNot really.â Your voice a flat tone.
âWell, thatâs too bad âcause weâre gonna get it outta you one way or another,â Dean added with a mischievous smirk.
You simply rolled your eyes and locked yourself in your bedroom, your voice lingered through the hall as you finished your melody. Sam and Dean couldnât help but give each other a great smile clad in pride.
Okay, so I promised you a first chapter of this AU I was writing, but since I have no inspiration to finish chapter one at the moment (and Iâve got a migraine like something awful) Iâll give you a sneak peek of chapter one. Let me know what you think of it.
Bayli
Note: itâs contains mentions use of drugs and alcohol and language.
In-The family business au
Sam took another shot of jager. He wasnât sure how many heâs had so far, but he hadnât gotten a buzz yet, unlike his girlfriend. Jessica wasnât a lightweight, but only God knows how many shots she had along with the margarita she had with dinner. Sam also had the impression that she might have been a tad stoned as well.
Ironically enough, Sam had never allowed drugs in his system. Even when he got out of the family business he refused to buy any of the shitty commodity the frat boys sold on campus. Sam scoffed internally at their sales tacticsâthey didnât know the first thing about supply and demand or even contributing to the consumerâs needs instead of flashing the goods before anything else. Terrible salesmen, like so, really give Sam the urge to run back to Lawrence and work with his dad and brother once more, but he swore he was done for good with the offshore drug smuggling and the manipulation and the constant game of hide and seek with police. Sure, he was good at what he did, and a part of him does miss the non stop adrenaline that came with the job, but an even bigger part of him enjoys the life he has at Stanford with his friends and Jess.
"Sam!" A high pitched shriek tore Sam away from his thoughts. His girlfriend beckoned him over to her.
Sam smiled softly at her. âHey, Jess. Ready to leave? âCause I think youâve had enough.â
Jess giggled almost uncontrollably. âSure thing, Mister Buzzkill,â she answered with a hiccup.
He held her around the waist and walked her down the block to their apartment just off campus. Sam helped her into her pajamas and laid a granola bar, pain pills, and a Gatorade on the nightstand. Beside it, he placed a trash can.
âGet some rest,â Sam mumbled as he pressed a chaste kiss upon her forehead.
Jess wriggled underneath the sheets until she was comfortable. âI love you,â she reminded him in the middle of a yawn.
Sam turned off the bedside lamp. He couldnât help but smile. âI love you, too.â With that, he went off to the bathroom to shower.
He had barely even gotten his hair wet when his phone rang. Samâs upper half peered out of the curtain. It was a number he didnât recognize. âHello?â
âYo, Sammy. Can I borrow a few bucks?â The voice said on the other line.
Sam creased his brow and checked the number again. âDean?â
âDamn skippy.â
Sam furrowed his brow and instinctively frowned. âWhy are you asking me for money?â He asked.
âBecause youâre all out of beer, and I left my wallet back at the hotel. Now can you get out of the shower? Itâs weird talking to you when youâre naked.â
âWait. How did youââ
âYour locks are pieces of shit, did you know that?â Dean asked almost rhetorically before hanging up.
do you think that you could possibly make a part 4 for the 'Glass Half Empty' Cas/Sam imagine please
Sadly, anon, that is currently impossible. Due to unfortunate circumstances, Admin Tracy has been on an indefinite leave, thus making her unable to make apart four. Also, I think she meant to end it there at part three. If/When she comes back, I will inform her of your request immediately.
Thank you writingintheimpala for your lovely submission. It eases my conscience greatly knowing there's a new one shot up to enjoy. Others are free to submit their works as well.
Summary: Thin Man Episode || The Ghostfacers come to town andÂ
Warning: Threats
Link: xxx
~~
âYou have got to be kidding me.â Dean mumbled as the three of you walk past a white van with âGhostfacersâ written on the side. With Sam shaking his head and a confused look on your face, the brothers walk into the tiny diner with you trailing them. Dean spots the booth first so the slides in on one side, with you squishing in beside him. Sam gets in across from the two of you, next to a brunette.Â
âOh look, the Winchesters.â A red head next to Dean speaks, sharing a glance at the other man across the table. âAnd who is this gem?â He speaks, winking, causing you to raise your eyebrows and share a look with Sam.Â
âDibs.â The brunette mutters which results in a scoff from Dean and complaints from the red head. âI just said what you were thinking, Ed, donât be a little baby.â You lift your left hand to rub the bridge of your tiny nose at the childish action.Â
Ed looks between the brothers, âYou donât scare us.âÂ
"Anymore." Dean leans over to whisper in your ear making a giggle fall from your lips. As Dean sits back up straight, he cuts his eyes towards your (y/e/c) ones and smirks.Â
Narrowing his eyes, âYou think somethingâs funny girl?â Raising your hands and frowning, before motioning to Ed for him to continue speaking. Grabbing the collar of his jacket, he pops it up, âAs I was saying, you donât scare us and this is our hunt. We were here first so it is ours, right Harry?âÂ
Harry picks up his glass and raises it toward Ed before taking a sip, âAinât nothing gonna be able to hurt us. Weâre trained now. And Armed.â He gloats before lifting the bottom of his shirt, âSee, Bitches.â Revealing a terrible fail of a happy trail and a tiny grandma gun.Â
âShould I be impressed by that lady gun or the treasure trail?â you speak up causing Harry to drop his shirt and glare at you. You just wink at him and smirk when he ducks his head and blushes.Â
After giving you a stink eye, âWait a second. Trained? Who in their right minds would train you two idiots?â Ed goes to open his mouth but Dean just holds his hand up, âDonât answer that. Now leave town before you get us hurt or worse. Killed.â He growls at the men who just scoff. âDonât think that we will be there to save your sorry asses. A ghost can have you dead in a minute.âÂ
âA ghost? He thinks itâs a ghost!â A bubble of laugher falls out of the menâs mouths causing Sam to huff.Â
Rolling his eyes, âWell, what do you think it is?â Sam asks them.Â
The men turn and smirk at each other.Â
~~Â
Typing Thin Man into google back at the hotel on Sams laptop, you plop down on the couch to do research while the brothers are out FBIing. They managed to convince you to go out to a bar the night before and youâre still feeling the few shots that you have downed.Â
A knock on the door sounds so you quietly set the laptop down and grab your blade off of the table before looking out of the peephole in the door. After rolling your eyes, you open the door to Ed and Harry are slapping each others hands at which they stop when they hear you clear your throat. Both sets of eyes scan your barely clothed body before Ed tries to lean on the door which you let go of so he topples toward the ground. Rubbing between your eyes again, âWhat possibly could you two idiots want?â You groan out.Â
Hopping back up onto his feet, âYou.â Ed speaks trying to be seductive but failing which earns him a slap to the back of his head from Harry.Â
âCan we come in? We have information of Thin Man.â Harry speaks acting civilized. Raising your eyebrows at both men, you make the horrible decision of opening the door wider to let them in. What harm could they do? You could kill them with both of your hands tied behind your back.Â
Flopping down on the couch again, you grab your best friends laptop and shut the lid before looking up at them. Harry sits down next to you while Ed gets the chair across from yâall.Â
âHas anyone told you how beautiful you are?â Harry speaks while tucking a piece of (y/h/c) hair behind your ear making you to lean away from him and give him a weird look.Â
Looking between them, âI thought you said you have information.â Ed smirks before moving to sit on the table in front of yâall.Â
âWe do, itâs just that we got so lost in your beauty.â He spoke before looking you up and down, even though you were seated on the couch. You glare at him, before you curl your hand around the blade handle that you were still holding. Harry glances down and notices, widening his eyes before trying to silently tell Ed to shut up. Not even a second later, the lock in the front door starts turning. Ed looks toward it but continues to talk, âSo how about Iâll give you the information if you go out with me sometime.âÂ
âNo way in hell will she be going out with you!â comes from behind you. Smirking when rough, calloused hands land on your shoulders, you lean your head back to be met with soft lips placed on your petite ones.Â
Eds face is red while Harrys mouth is open, âYouâre dating Dean?â Harry mumbles causing you to smile and nod. âYou could do better Y/N. My gun is way bigger than his.â He smirks causing you to laugh.Â
âI canât do better because there is no better.â You claim while Dean walks around the couch, picking you up and sitting down before placing you on his lap. âAnd his gun is bigger, a lot bigger.â You speak while biting your bottom lip causing the men to groan and look away.Â
You donât even have to turn around to know that Dean has a smug smile on his lips.
Do you think you could do a one shot were the reader is the Winchesters little sister and Sam and Dean come back to the bunker early one night and hear her singing "ordinary human" by One Republic (but she'd be the one who wrote it)? Love ya!
I was wondering if you were still doing ships like I've seen some mention and..what does that mean??
Unfortunately, we are no longer doing ships at this time (maybe at our 1k milestone will we bring back the ships). If Iâve read this correctly, you are asking what a ship is, yes? Well, to ship someone with another person (or, in this case, supernatural character), you need to know about this person. All they need to do is request a ship with the preferred gender specified and a little bit about themselves (honestly, I prefer just personality traits because we like to keep everything as neutral and broad as possible, though I may slip up and go for a female reader point of view). After some decision making, I decide who I would like to see that person with and try to make a very short ficlet based on their favorite pastimes, which they usually state in their request.
I tried to make this as simple yet detailed as I possibly could. If this isnât particularly useful, please let me know, and I will gladly elaborate even more.
Author: Bayli
Character(s): Dean
Word Count: 872
Warnings: None just super cheesy.
"So itâs all worked out, then?"
You taped the final box shut. âYep,â you replied, whilst writing Bedroom in your rushed, messy handwriting.
This was it. You and Dean were finally getting out of the life. There was nothing more you would rather do, and Sam encouraged it. Of course, you were gonna miss him like crazy, but you made sure to get a home with a guest room for him if he ever felt like dropping by.
And that he did (three and a half months later). Charlie had been kind and created your new, apple-pie identities with such generosity and care. She even gave you âinheritanceâ from a late great aunt, Gertrude. Somehow, you had also convinced Dean to let you adopt a cat last month. Obviously, there were some rules about where the cat cannot go (like Deanâs lap or his beloved impala, which stayed in the two-door garage more often than not nowadays).
"So Dean let you get a cat and drive his car? Wow, youâve obviously got him wrapped around your finger.â Samâs words were almost incoherent with the ton of cauliflower in his mouth. He noticed the shiny diamond on your left hand as you slapped his own out of the veggie tray. âAnd itâs definitely that one right there. Whenâd he give you that?â
"Right after we moved in," you replied. He expressed his congratulations, then continued to dig into the greens and ranch dip. You rolled your eyes with a sigh. "Heâs taken domestication so well. He loves it. I mean, he works like a dog all day, then he comes home wearing the same smile he wore that morning, and heâs happy. Sammy, Iâve never seen him so happy before.â
Sam gave you a genuine smile with a closed mouth (thank God). âDo you enjoy being a full time housewife?â He couldnât help but chuckle. Sam could never see you being a stay-at-home anything.
âHonestly? It gets so lonely in this house too big for two, but I insisted on remaining unemployed. I havenât told him why, though. I plan on doing it tonight while youâre here.â Your cheeks were aching from the smile spreading from ear to ear.
Sam could read you like a book. âOh, my God. Are youâReally?â You nodded emphatically. He pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground. âY/N! Iâm so happy for you!â
Not even a moment later, you could hear Dean's â87 Silverado pull into the garage. âHeâs here. Damn it, Sam. Get out of the vegetables, or you wonât eat the main meal.â
"Honey, Iâm home!" Deanâs terrible Arnaz impression echoed through the house. He strolled into the kitchen to find you and Sam waiting on him. "Well, hey, stranger!" They both did their odd bro-hug while you went back to fixing dinner.
"Why donât you get cleaned up while I set the table and finish dinner?" You suggest as Dean gives you a chaste kiss on the lips.
He flashed one of his rare smiles that werenât so rare anymore. âSure thing, sweetheart.â With a smack on the ass, he left you and Sam alone.
Once Dean returned, he could smell the radiant aroma of your chicken parm. You were at the island pouring yourself a glass of wine whilst Sam was setting down two beers and a basket of bread.
"Right on time! Now letâs eat shall we?" You grabbed your loverâs hand and walked him over to the dining table.
Sam noticed you sipping on Chateau and he nearly spit out his food. âY/N, are you supposed to be drinking that withâŠâ He trailed off as his eyes met Deanâs.
"No, I talked to my doctor, and he said one glass every week or so can actually be goodâeven beneficial," you replied.
Deanâs brow creased. âDoctor? Babe, are you alright?â His face was masked with worry.
You grabbed his hand. âIâve never been better, actually.â His expression softened into a happier one. âIâve been meaning to tell you this, and with Sam showing up, I thought this was the perfect time to tell youââ you inhaled sharply. âThat Iâm pregnant.â
Deans grin grew three times its size. He the hugged you over the table, showering your face with kisses.
Later that night when you were snuggled atop Deanâs chest and he was playing with your hair (and your cat Lynyrd was kneading his paws over your thighs), Dean murmured sweet nothings as he rubbed your eight-week-old barely noticeable baby bump.
"Iâm gonna be a daddy," he told you for the umpteenth time that night. You nodded drowsily. There was no way you were ever going to get used to him saying it. "When do we get to know if itâs a girl or a boy?"
"About a month and a half," you answered, bringing a hand up to his soft hair, "but Iâd like to wait until we have him or her."
Dean smiled almost sheepishly. He took the hand in his hair and kissed it. âAs you wish.â
âSo what did the police station say?â You asked Sam with your eyes trained on the road.
Sam let out a tired sigh. âNothing much, really. They just explained that thereâve been many missing persons over the past couple of weeks near the forest on the edge of town.â
You gave him quick glances every so often. âDidnât your dad used to send you coordinates like that?â You pondered, and Sam looked at you quizzically. âWhat? I was a fan of the books.â
Sam muttered something about burning books before returning to the conversation. He did recall John sending him and Dean coordinates to particular hunts. âAre you saying you thinkââ
âThat it might be Dean,â you finished for him. âThatâs exactly what Iâm saying.â
Sam shook his head. As much as he wished to believe it was his big brother, he knew he had to be realistic. âItâs probably Garth trying to get us a case.â
âBut we called Garth earlier. He didnât mention anything about Kansas or coordinates,â you argued. âSo did you figure out what was so familiar about Junction?â
Sam was silent for a long moment. Then, he answered, âUh, noâI did not.â You glared at him as he gazed out the window.
His response was a little odd, you decided. You reminded yourself to inquire on that later. For now, you popped in your favorite eight-track of Deanâs and rode in silence.
* * *
âGood morning, officer. Iâm Agent Bloom. This is my partner Agent Sulton,â Sam told the officer in the front lobby of the police station. âWeâre with the FBI. I talked with one of your officers over the phone last night. Anything new with the most recent case regarding the missing persons?â
The officer didnât bother to look up from his paperwork. âLook, I donât know what the other officer told you, Agent, but there have been multiple missing persons reports in the past couple of weeks. Apparently people would go out into the woods on a hike or a family camping trip and then never come back.â
You and Sam shared a look of all-knowingness, then turned back to the officer.
âCan you give us directions to these woods?â You requested.
* * *
Later in the afternoon, you and Sam found yourself taking a lunch break at the local restaurant after walking the perimeter of the fifty-two acre wooded area. Your pantsuitâs (now sweaty) blazer hung on the back of your chair and your aching feet were begging you to kick your heels off and massage your arches.
âNext time, letâs change into something less restricting before we go searching for a Wendigoâs hiding spot, yeah?â
Sam muttered something of an agreement as he did whatever he was doing on his laptop.
You licked your lips, placing your sandwich onto its wrapping paper. âHow do you even have internet connection here, anyway?â You asked.
He digs into his messenger bag for something. His hand returns to your sight. Itâs enclosed over something square shaped. âHotspot,â he said simply, not even looking up from the computer.
âWhat are you looking at?â
Sam looked up from his business on the screen to steal a glance at you. âJust research,â he mumbled.
âBut I thought we were sure we knew what it was.â
Sam was silent for a while. âWell, I meanâŠYeah, we do,â he explained. âIâm just double-checking.â
âYeahâŠalright.â You sighed. There was something he wasnât telling you, and you were going to get to the bottom of it.
* * *
That night, you and Sam sat quietly in the motel room. For the first time in a long time, the silence was deafening and uncomfortable. Yeah, there was definitely something up.
âIâm going out. Iâll be back later,â Sam stated suddenly, closing his laptop for the first time today.
âWhere are you going?â You questioned.
Sam didnât even answerâhe grabbed his jacket and headed out the door.
Not even minutes after he left, you found yourself in his original seat, trying to unlock his computer. You laughed triumphantly once you unlocked it on the third try. You couldnât believe he used the same password Carver Edlund used in his series.
The only window opened on Samâs computer was his email inbox. It was an unknown email address, but it seemed as though Sam and this mystery person were meeting up at a bar nearby.
After walking a block away from the motel, you found an unlocked car parked near a gas station. You drove that the rest of the way.
Once you made it to the establishment, you pulled your hair up and put on a Kansas University ball cap (curtesy of the carâs owner), praying it would be enough to steer clear of Samâs attention inside if you kept your head down.
Well, at least, that was the plan before you found out who he was meeting up with.
âExcuse me,â you tapped the bartenderâs shoulder and spoke with your most innocent voice, âbut, uh, thereâs an old black Chevrolet that appears to have been broken into. I think it had an Ohio license plate.â
Sam and his friend hurried outside to see what was going on after the man behind the bar finished his announcement, and you followed them (with quite some distance, of course).
Sam intently examined the Impala. âThe car seems fine to me. Iââ He froze once he noticed your gun drawn and aimed towards his guest.
âWho the hell is this, Sam?â You all but yell. You were livid that he would keep such a secret from you.
Sam tried to remain calm and rational. âY/NâŠI know you know who it is.â
The second man remained silent as you and Sam had it out. âThatâs impossible! Itâs gotta be a shifter or something.â
âNo,â the man protested softly. âItâs really me. Iâm really DeanâŠin the flesh. Back from Hell once again.â
Are you still doing ships? I am 5'11 with really long red hair and blue eyes and freckles galore( they only come out in the summer though and it pisses me off when they go away) I really like books and I love sports and French fries. I have too much sass for my own good and absolutely no filter for my words! Who do you ship me with?
[15/15]
I ship you with Ruby
- Bayli
"Ruby, what are we going here? Arenât we supposed to be meeting up with the Winchesters?"
She sighed as she stepped out of her Mustang. âYouâre always about work, work, work.â Sheâs slammed her door shut and walked into the diner. You followed her reluctantly.
"I am not," you retorted defensibly.
She turned around and grinned at you. "C'mon, then. Live a little. There is more to life than just hunting." Ruby made her way to a corner booth. "Besides it's only lunch."
The waitress strolled over to your booth and asked for your order. "Two chocolate milkshakes and some fries--no salt," Ruby answered before you could say anything. "Maybe after this we could head back to our motel before we meet Sam and Dean." She gave you a coy grin whilst tracing shapes into the back of your hand.
"You know, I think I'm starting to like this not-always-hunting business." You smile.
Sam and Dean just got back from a case in Montana not even an hour ago.
Sam was somewhat settled back in the bunker after being gone so long. He decided on hitting the hay for the night and start searching for a case tomorrow, but first, he had to put away the groceries they stopped for on the way home.
Dean, of course, was cooped up in his room with his headphones on blaring his mullet rock. Everything was quiet and peaceful.
You didnât even bother knocking, you just walked right in and let yourself fall onto the mattress next to Dean. He turned off his music and brought you into his chest.
You pulled out your phone and sent a text message to Sam, telling him to get his nerdy ass to Deanâs room and to bring the second season of Game of Thrones. Moments later, Sam came in, popped in the DVD, and took a seat on the bed with his head on your stomach.
Sam had dozed off sometime during the third episode, yet you continued to run your fingers through his hair as you listened to Deanâs steady heartbeat. His fingertips ran smoothly up and down your arm every once in a while.
It was moments like these that kept you going. You relished and savored every second. No one talked, no one had to do research, no one had to worry about anything that went bump in the night. It was just you three, and that was always enough.
