Pairing : Winchesters, Reader. Cas and Chuck in there too a bit. Mentions of others. No real pairing here yet. It’s an unfinished series.
Word count : 1,651
A/N : I wrote this totally for me. Bits and pieces of me are in here. It’s one of those shower ideas I have.
Part 1 in Your fathers daughter.
You were enjoying the spray of the hot water. You were already washed and everything, and just enjoy the rest of the hot water while it lasted. Everyone was asleep, and that was the best time to just enjoy a shower. No kid needing to pee every 5 minutes, and the hot water tank was full again by then because dishes, and everyone else’s showers were already done.
You let out a sigh and tilted your head back. Suddenly there was no water hitting you. Furrowing your brows you opened your eyes, and saw a high ceiling. “What the-” You mumbled. This wasn’t your bathroom. The white tiled wall was gone and replaced with open space. Looking around, you noticed you were in a library. And there were two men sitting at a near by table. One, short hair with his back to you. The other, longer hair and facing you, but he was occupied with his laptop. “Uhm..” You said a bit louder, crossing your legs to hide yourself, and covering as much of your breasts as you could with your arms.
The longer haired one looked up, and his eyes went wide. “Uh… Dean?”
The other looked up at the man in front of him, then turned to you. “Oh shit. It’s not Christmas is it?” He teased with a smirk. Then he seemed to realize you were a stranger and his expression changed. “How’d you get in here.” His voice was hard.
“Uhm.. Can uh. Can someone grab me a towel?” You looked down, and there was a puddle forming at your feet. They just stared at you for a bit. “Please? Kinda naked here.”
“Oh, right. Hang on.” The long haired guy stood up and moved past you out of the room. The other man, Dean, just seemed to stare at you while you chewed your bottom lip and waited for a towel. “Here.” He gave you a shy smile as he held out a towel, and turned away so you cold wrap yourself.
“Uhm. Where am I?” You asked as you got the towel wrapped snugly around you. “And how the hell did I get here?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Dean watched you, now that you were covered.
“I’m Sam. This is my brother Dean.” He gave you a smile. “You have no idea how you got here?” You shook your head. “What do you remember?”
“I remember being in the shower, obviously.” You motioned to your wet self and started moving around the room. You figured maybe looking at the books could help keep the panic from settling in completely. “I closed my eyes, leaned my head back to enjoy the hot water, only suddenly the water was gone, and when I opened my eyes, I saw that.” You pointed to the ceiling. “How the hell will I explain this to my family…”
“Do you remember anything strange before this happened? Sounds, smells, people..”
You looked over at him. “I’m a stay at home mom and the only female in the house. Strange smells are a constant.” You gave him a small smile.
“You’re pretty calm for a mom ripped away from her family.” Dean said with narrowed eyes.
“Is panicking and losing my shit going to help at all? I mean, I’m obviously not in Kansas anymore.” You furrowed your brows at the title of one of the books. What kind of books were these?
“Actually. Lebanon.”
You turned to Sam. “What? Where?”
“Lebanon. Kansas.”
You started at him, then his brother. “Kansas? I’m in the fucking States?”
“That is where Kansas has always been..” Dean said sarcastically.
“Son of a bitch.” You groaned. “There goes my healthcare.” They stared at you confused. “I’m not American. And since I was in the shower, I don’t even have ID on me, let alone my passport. Fuck.”
“Uhm, how about I get you some clothes? Since we don’t know what happened, we don’t know how long you’ll be here.” Sam pointed out. “Uh, sweats and a shirt okay?”
You nodded, and he wandered off. When he came back, he put some clothes down on the table. “We don’t exactly have women’s clothes lying around..”
You turned and gave him a smile. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Dude, those are my sweats, what the hell Sam?”
“Dean, I’m well over a foot taller then her. She’ll fit better in yours.”
Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled a fine. “That better be your shirt.” It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes.
Through their whole interaction, you grabbed the button up plaid shirt and did it up before reaching for the sweats. “Thanks.” You said softly.
Dean picked up his phone. “Cas? Hey we got a problem. Time to haul ass back to the bat cave.”
You looked at them worried. “If anyone can help, it’s Cas.” Sam gave you a reassuring smile. “Come on, lets find you a room just in case this takes a while.”
It was two days before Cas showed up. You heard the loud sound of the door and looked up from the book you were reading. An odd man in a trench coat came in, muttering apologies for taking so long. Something about this thing he had to take care of before he could start the drive.
When he stopped, and focused his attention on you, Dean introduced you to him. “Nice to meet you, I’m told maybe you can help figure out how I got here, and maybe help me back home since I don’t have any ID or passport.”
“You’re not from here.”
“Nope. Obviously not.”
“No, you’re not from here... Dean, we need to speak.” He turned and walked out.
Dean looked at you confused but followed. Sam not far behind him. “What’s going on Cas?”
“What has she been doing since she got here?”
Sam shrugged. “Not much. Reading, cooking. She only left the bunker when we had to go buy her some clothes so she wouldn’t be naked.”
“Mm.” Dean moaned. “She makes a mean breakfast. And a bad ass apple pie.” He smiled.
“She is not human.” Cas said matter of fact.
“WHAT?!” Dean looked at him like he was crazy. “Then what is she? We’ve tested her for everything Cas. Holy water, silverware.. the usual stuff. She reacted to nothing.”
“I don’t know. It’s hidden from me. She was previously in another universe, I know that. I will find what I can and return.”
After Cas had left, things had been weird with Sam and Dean. They were a bit distant. You didn’t know what he said to them, but some conversations stopped when you walked into the room. It only made you miss home more. You missed your kid, your boyfriend. You wondered how they were handling it without you. Who was getting your kid ready for school? Who was there to pick him up afterwards. Was he taking time off work to do it? You couldn’t afford that. Maybe his mom was helping out. Your mom must be out of her mind.
You plopped down in to the chair across from Dean with a sigh. Three days since Cas left. “Can someone please just tell me what’s going on? Whatever Cas said to you?” They looked at each other and changed the subject.
A few more days of your misery and Sam finally caved. “You’re from another universe. You don’t exist in this one. We can’t just drop you across the border. We need to figure out how you got here, who brought you here, and why.”
“I’d say Balthazar but, he’s dead. I mean, he sent us to an Alternate Universe once.” Dean shrugged.
“The demon from Charmed?” You looked at them weird.
“What? No? What?” Dean looked confused.
You chuckled. “Never mind. Maybe it’s not a thing here.” Dean still looked so confused. “It’s a show about witches. Sisters. Always 3 of them at one time, even though there’s 4. One of them married a demon named Balthazar.. Belthazor?” You shrugged.
“Man I hate witches.” Dean grumbled.
The boys opened up again, and you got pretty close in a short time. Two weeks. Two weeks too god damn long to be away from your family. But then Cas appeared in front of you, with a another man. As soon as his eyes were on you he smiled, like he hadn’t seen you in years.
“Dean! Sam!” Cas called out to them.
“Hey Chuck, you got answers for us?”
He nodded. “It’s good to see you again little one.” He smiled at you.
“Do I.. know you?” You looked at him confused.
“I know you.” He smiled. “You were too young to know me. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Why?”
“You are your fathers daughter. That’s why.”
You scoffed. “My dead beat dad? I-”
He shook his head. “Your real father.” His hand came out and touched your forehead. You felt a warm glow take over and suddenly you heard Sam and Dean gasp. You could faintly see golden wings off to yours sides before they faded away. “You have your fathers wings.” He smiled at you.
“Wha-”
“Gabriel, my mischievous little Arch Angel, fathered you and hid you. Balthazar helped him. Were you told the story of your birth from your mother?”
You nodded. “Yeah I.. I was-”
“A miracle.” You both said and he smiled.
“We both almost died. Emergency c-section. My mother woke up to a priest next to her and panicked. I had to be..”
“Stolen from the hospital. By your maternal grandfather.” You nodded. “The priest was Balthazar. Your mothers true child did die. Gabriel hid you from us, and your powers, and gave you to your grandfather when he came for you. But we need you now. It’s time to come home. It’s time to be who you were meant to be.”
*If you like, please consider supporting my work, or requesting a commission.*
I recently fell down the rabbit hole of a new (well, new to me) show: Chuck. I finished the series faster than I wanted and after the ending, I was itching to write a new story. I loved the ending but I wanted to put my own spin on it. So here you are. I shouldn't be doing this so late but I promised a friend I'd get it up. This is NOT a song fic based on the Taylor Swift song from the same name.
Angéline, hope you like it. Friend, you're amazing for beta'ing this even though you aren't in the Chuck fandom.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, merely playing in a world created by others.
ff.net AO3
Looking back, Sarah can’t vocalize what made her tell Chuck to kiss her. Sometimes she thought it was a suppressed memory or just the insane notion of wanting a “magical kiss”, but she said it. It wasn’t as magical as she wished it to be but she learned something—Chuck was safe. It wasn’t a memory but a feeling, something clicked and slid into place, like a gear in a car or the slide on her gun: Chuck was safe. Something within her knew him and responded in kind.
I know you,” she breathed, pulling away from him enough to talk. Her lips brushed against his at her revelation with her eyes still closed, holding onto the feeling of everything being right in the world. After a moment of silence, she opened her eyes to see him sitting in front of her, unshed tears gleaming in his eyes. He wore a smile that outshone the setting sun and it touched her for reasons she couldn’t understand but felt in the core of her being.
“Yeah,” he softly replied, nodding his head, “yeah, you do.”
***
In the days, and months, to come, memories returned and she began to feel more comfortable in this life she created. A welcoming family, which surprisingly included John Casey, helped— people who didn’t push her to remember but loved her through missteps, was foreign to her. Sometimes it felt like too much; the urge to run away from it all and collect herself, to start over, overwhelmed her but something niggled in the back of her mind and the pit of her stomach kept her planted in Echo Park. For the first time in her life, she trusted someone other than herself—she trusted Chuck.
Almost three months afterwards, Chuck approached her and told her of a project he and Ellie had been working on. The Intersect glasses, though fried, remained more or less in one piece and all of the late night work at Castle (Charmichael Industries, she reminded herself), the packages back and forth, and the hours he spent coding before falling into bed exhausted had resulted in the gift in her hands. Ellie and Chuck had reprogrammed the Intersect glasses to, hopefully, erase some of the damage Quinn and the faulty Intersect had done. This design, he explained as she took the glasses out of the case and examined them in her hands, was based on Intersect 3.0—the one in his head. The plans were based on Ellie’s tinkering to allow for a more natural upload.
“They’re more like memories now,” he told her, “instead of accessing a computer file. This,” he gestured open-handedly to the glasses in her hand, “is Ellie’s design but I programmed it. It should help trigger a few memories at a time. The glasses can be reprogrammed for different moments and maybe undo some of the damage.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, curling her fingers carefully around the glasses. He smiled softly before he stood and began to make his way to the bedroom. “What’s on here?” she called out after a moment. He turned, both hands shoved deep into his pockets and that niggling in the back of her mind started again.
“We wanted to start small,” he explained. “It’s just a few…escapades that were caught on camera.” She watched as he turned to the bedroom, loosening his tie along the way. She sat there and stared at the black frames in her hand for a while before making up her mind. The beeping of the glasses broke the silence in the room and within moments, she was surrounded by images of…flowers and statues? No, she reminded herself,that’s how the Intersect worked. Images within images—layers of information encoded for easy access. After the screen went black, she pulled them off and looked around the room. She didn’t feel different and there wasn’t a headache but when her gaze fell on a picture the resulting memory caused her to gasp.
“I can’t believe I’m here,” she says, looking around at the pandemonium. Thousands of people were swarming around her, the noise assaulting her on all sides but she’s grinning like a maniac.
“You have to attend Comic Con at least once in your life,” Chuck tells her from behind, wrapping an arm around her waist, “especially if you’re planning on marrying me,” he whispers in her ear. Her smile grows and she turns in his arms, pulling him down to her. Her lips find his and she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. A bright flash interrupts them and for a moment she’s in spy-mode before she spots Morgan with a camera and a sappy grin on his face. She also notices other’s milling around them, taking pictures of their unguarded moment with a smile.
“If you’re going to be making out, don’t do it dressed like that,” Morgan advises, motioning to their costumes. They were Chuck’s idea and even though she’d seen the series, Doctor Who wasn’t her favorite. It seemed odd but dressing as Rose Tyler and the Doctor allowed them to blend in rather than stick out.
Sarah jumped off the sofa and turned to the bedroom before following Chuck’s footsteps to the threshold. He was sprawled out on one side of the bed, her side untouched. She hadn’t been in his room—their room—except to gather her clothes and take them to the spare bedroom. She hadn’t been in this domain before but it wasn’t as intimidating as before, there was a slight familiarity she never noticed. She quietly walked around to her side of the bed and climbed in; Chuck rolled over in his sleep and wrapped his arm around her unconsciously. She tensed, wanting to jump from the vulnerable position, but the moment passed and she sank deeper into his embrace without a second thought.
“Sarah?” he asked after a moment, his voice thick with sleep and confusion. “Is everything okay?”
“I remembered something,” she told him and his eyes brightened sleepily at the words, and waited for her to continue. “We were at…Comic Con and we were dressed in costumes. We were engaged and we kissed.”
“Is that all you remember?” he pushed softly.
“You mean the hotel later that night?” she asked as innocently as possible and a grin exploded on his face. “I remember that weekend but not much else,” she admitted, curling closer to him. This was new, sleeping in a bed without an ulterior motive. But with Chuck, it was nice.
“The glasses worked exactly how we wanted them to work,” he told her, moving his hand slowly and brushing the hair from her face. “There were a few more pictures and video embedded in that upload so we’ll see if you remember anything else soon.”
They lay in silence for several moments and Sarah listened to his deep breathing as his hand worked through her hair in a relaxing and comforting manner. She was almost asleep, the words heavy on her tongue, wanting to pull her down, but she fought through the haze. “Chuck?” she asked.
“Mmm?” he hummed, his hand stilling on her back.
“Tell me our story,” she said.
“Of course,” he began. He wove a tale of a genius but lost nerd who stumbled upon government secrets and the brilliant but ruthless spy sent to handle him and how they fell in love. She fell asleep to the sound of his voice as it washed over her—she was safe.
***
It becomes a habit after a while, Chuck would climb into bed and Sarah would follow. She’d curl up into him and ask him to tell her their story. She never regained her full memory; there were pockets she stumbled into but after a while, they became few and far between. Her family helped her fill in the holes they could, and she moved forward. Their story grew and sometimes she took over telling the story—telling it from her point of view: a spy who thought she had everything she ever wanted was tasked to protect a nerd who held government secrets in his brain but found a life better than she could possibly imagine. A life that included a red door and a white picket fence, a little boy with her hair and Chuck’s eyes, and more happiness than she ever thought possible.
She climbed into bed, rolling into his arms and settling into the crook of his shoulder. He threw the blanket over them and pulled her closer. The question had barely left her mouth before he began in a low voice and started their story at his beginning; she smiled as the familiar words encompassed her.
“Chuck?” she asked when he finished, looking up at her husband. His eyebrows rose in question and she smiled. “Kiss me.”
