Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.
Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency i take.
Sam and Dean stopped at the same restaurant that Nikolai bent Sam’s spoon to get something to eat. Melanie already gave her thanks to Sam and Dean for what they did, so all they have to do now is eat and then part ways.
“In the bed? They were in the bed?” Dean groans.
“Yeah.”
“Ugh. I can't believe he was boning her.”
“Can I get you anything else?” the same waiter as before asks with a smile.
“Uh, just a refill, and if you affirmate me, I'm gonna punch you in the face.”
Sam looks away with an amused smile, but the waiter isn’t as amused.
“Alrighty then. Refill coming up.”
“I can't wait to get out of this fucking fortune cookie,” Dean shudders.
Sam and Dean finish eating and head back out to the car. Dean doesn’t want to see his brother go a second time, but Sam does something that shocks Dean. He places all his bags inside the car Dean is using for the time being.
“That's your stuff,” Dean points out.
“Yeah. I figured we'd take one car.”
“Works for me. You still want to break my face?”
“No,” Sam smiles. “Uh, not at this moment. Look, you know what? Um... you were right… about Amy. If she was... just any monster, I'm not sure I could have let her walk away. I don't know. I mean, I'll never know.”
“So, what are you saying…?”
“What I'm saying is... I get why you did it. You were just trying to make sure no one else got hurt. But here's the thing… you can't just look me in the face and tell me you're fine. I mean, you're not sleeping, you drink for the record—”
“Oh, here we go,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“Look, whatever, man. I’m the last one to preach, I know, but just be honest with me. How are those the actions of someone who knows they did the right thing?”
“You want me to be honest?”
“Yeah.”
“I went with my gut, and that felt right. I didn't trust her, Sam. Of course, ever since Cas, I'm having a hard time trusting anybody. And as far as how I've been acting... I don't know. Maybe it's 'cause I don't like lying to you or to Y/N… especially her. I’m going to be married to her soon, you know? It doesn't feel right. So, yeah, you got me there. I’ve been climbing the walls.”
“I know how that is, but if I learned one thing from that museum, sibling acts are tough.”
“Oh, don't compare us to that hall of crazy,” Dean scoffs and walks around to the driver’s side door. “We're like poster kids of functional family life compared to them.”
“It’s a low bar,” Sam chuckles and walks to the passenger’s side door.
“Well, hey... grading on a curve has got me past everything since kindergarten, so don't knock it.”
“Whatever you say.” They both get in the car, and then something crosses Sam’s mind. “I still want to know how that guy bent my spoon.”
“Forget it, Sam. It's Lily Dale.” Dean pulls onto the road and starts to head back to Bobby’s cabin. “Right now, we gotta figure out a way to save our girl.”
Sam, Dean, and your dad have all been staring at your body for the past ten minutes. Dean holds a bubbling Joanna in his arms since she has absolutely no idea what is going on. Nothing has happened since Sam and Dean got home, and if nothing has happened in the past two weeks, then what’s the chance of it happening now? Dean is about ready to pull his own hair out when something happens.
Your blue magic swirls around your body in a shimmering mist, and Joanna coos when she sees it. She seems to be connecting to it on a much deeper level than Sam or Dean can process. The magic evaporates, and you’re left lying like how you were just a second ago. Suddenly, you take in a deep breath and your eyes open.
“Y/N!”
“You’re awake!”
“Thank God!”
All three voices jumble in your head, and you hold up a hand to silence them.
“Too much at once,” you groan.
You move to sit up, and Sam takes your elbow in his hand to help you. Joanna smiles when she sees you, and your eyes immediately fill with tears. You’re not sure why they are, but all you know is that you want to hold her. Dean sees the need in your eyes, so he hands over your daughter. As soon as you’re holding her, you give her a hug and rock her gently.
“What the hell happened?”
“How long was I out?”
“Two weeks. What happened with those Leviathans?” Dean asks, taking a seat next to you.
“I used way too much magic at once. Apparently, it takes a lot more than two sources of power to take down two of them. If I’m going to beat their boss, I have to be smarter. The biggest fight has yet to come, so I can’t waste it on these little battles. I promise, I’m okay. I feel a lot better--better than I have felt these past few months.”
“We were so worried about you,” Dean sighs and wraps an arm around you.
“I’m good, Dean,” you nod. “I know what to do now and how to do it.”
Joanna waves her tiny arms up and down, and you pepper her head with tiny kisses. You’re going to do everything in your power to protect her, even if it means from you.
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JON SNOW & DAENERYS TARGARYEN
“He’d like to keep looking at her, and forget about the world events weighing on his soul. He has truly never seen a girl like this before. Her beauty, her strength, her grief and the pain it makes him feel... they all push him to the realization that he loves her.” — (for @ktwrites)
Didn’t really cry until the death scene and then “Amazing Grace”...oh goodness. It was a double-whammy. My grandfather, who died of septicemia, that was one of the hymns at his funeral (and about every other family wake/funeral since; I’ve said I’ll not have it at my funeral), and my sister, even though she was 2 at the time, sobs every time it’s sung in church.
Says Brienne of Tarth, who's life purpose for the last few years has been to uphold the loyalty implicit in the vow to Catelyn.
Like, no, no, no, no. The purpose of Brienne’s character in relation to Jaime is to inspire and reignite his aspirations toward the knightly values of loyalty, honor and ethical conduct. Brienne advising Jaime to ‘Fuck Loyalty’ is literally the exact opposite of her book characterization.
It seems like this was supposed to catalyze his split from Cersei later in the episode, in the same way Briennes influence catalyzed his burning of Cerseis letter in the books. Despite the fact that it ostensibly lead to the same outcome, the context matters. It matters that book!Jaime split from Cersei because of his rejuvenation of Briennes quixotic idealism, rather than just realizing that established loyalties mean nothing.
I love the symbolism of Littlefinger's death, it's a microcosm of what the whole show is now. He was the last 'wildcard' character, the last guy not firmly on the Good Guys Team or Darth Cersei's Team, the last player of the Game of Thrones. He survived his whole life on schemes and manipulating and backstabbing, he exploited human nature to get what he wanted. He was the best player of the Game, but the Game doesn't matter anymore. Magic has returned to the world and death marches on the realms of men.
Schemes cannot save you from a boy wielding the magic of the Old Gods, just as lies and deceit cannot hold up the Wall or protect you from dragon fire.
The hushed whispers of the Game of Thrones are no more, drowned out by the Song of Ice and Fire.
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Any and all comments on these are appreciated.
Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency i take.
You arrive at your dad’s cabin in less time than you thought. Maybe it’s because you’re inside your head. Maybe it’s because there was no one on the road. It’s pitch-black outside with not a single star in the sky. It’s been dark the entire day, but it’s probably because your eyes are closed. No light can get inside your head since your eyes are closed. It’s scarier to think that you don’t know what might be lurking in the dark, but you push that thought out of your head.
You trek up the stairs and slowly peel the door open. It creaks the more you open it, feeding the mystery and creepiness. It’s pitch-black inside, but you know your body is in here somewhere. The first step you take inside the cabin groans loudly, and you wince as if you’d get in trouble for sneaking in. The walls are bare of any pictures, what little furniture is inside is dull in color, and the air is stuffy.
Still, you head deeper into the house to find your unconscious body. You pass by a lamp sitting on a little nightstand, and you turn it on. It doesn’t do much for the whole room, but it does light whatever is nearby it. On the table are scraps of paper, however, you can’t read them. It’s like someone took the words and blurred them to the point that they look like scribbles instead of actual words.
Maybe your body is in the basement, but before you can head over there, you hear faint crying. Someone is in here, and you can only assume it’s another piece of you. How many of them are there? Do you have to get all the pieces before you can connect to your body? What will happen if you connect before then? Would you lose sides to your personality? There is only one way to find out; you have to go towards the noise.
The crying is coming from the back room, so you slowly head over to the room. A soft glow of light shines from the back living room which indicates whoever is crying is inside the room. You carefully push the door open to reveal a very pregnant you sitting on the armchair, crying. There, on the love sofa, is your body.
You’re right there, yet, you’re so far away. Why is she crying? Did something happen to Joanna? Is something going to happen to her?
“Why are you crying?” you ask softly.
“I’m scared,” she sobs.
You feel the need to cry, but you force down those tears.
“Why are you scared?”
“This world is no place for such a delicate human being. All I want is to protect her,” she sniffles and rubs her eight-month-old pregnant belly.
“But she is protected. I’m doing my best,” you say, pleading that she knows this.
“There is not one day that goes by when you’re not thinking of your little girl. I know how much you love her, and I know how much Dean loves her. She has the best parents a little girl could ask for. All you want is the best for her, even if that means it’s not you.”
“Why are you saying this?” you ask, the tears falling against your will.
“Because you’re going to kill her,” she sobs.
“What?” you whisper, falling to your knees.
“You’re used to jumping into situations no matter the cost. As long as the bad guys are dead, right? You can’t do that anymore. You have to be smart because these Leviathans are smarter. They’re gonna kill a lot of people,” she sobs. “Your daughter will be one of them if you don’t get your act together.”
“I’m sorry,” you cry. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s not me who you should apologize to. Sometimes, the bigger picture is what matters more than the smaller ones. You need to save your strength for Dick Roman because he is coming, and he is mean. You need your full power if you want to even think about defeating him.”
“I want to kill him and every other Leviathan out there,” you beg as if it would happen if she said yes.
“Then you need to think about Joanna’s first words. Think about when she goes to pre-school for the first time. Think about the first slumber party she is going to have. Think about her first boyfriend and her wedding. Think about her growing up, and how you’re going to be there to see it all. Think about giving her a future to hold onto. It’s the only way you’ll be able to survive and to protect her.”
“I will,” you sniffle and wipe your cheeks free of any tears. “I promise.”
“Please remember,” she begs, holding out your hand.
This time, you don’t hesitate to grab her hand. Your pregnant version shines brightly before turning into the same mist as the other two. That mist sinks into your skin, and you remember what it’s like--what it’s like when you brought life into the world.
One of the nurses brings your daughter wrapped in a pink blanket. She isn’t crying anymore, but she is hungry and desperate for her mother's affection.
“Here you go,” the nurse smiles and lays her in your arms.
You just sob in happiness at finally feeling her in your arms. She has a beautiful head of hair, and you can only imagine what it’s going to look like once it grows out. Her eyes are dull, but they will get their color in a few months. Freckles softly dance across her cheeks and nose just like her father has. She is perfect in every sense of the word.
“Hi, my little angel,” you cry and finally give her, her very first kiss on the head. “I’m your mommy.”
“I’m your daddy,” Dean says emotionally from right next to you.
“She’s absolutely gorgeous. Do you have a name for her yet?” the nurse who brought her to you asks.
“Joanna Beth Winchester.”
“That’s a beautiful name. We can sign the paperwork and the birth certificate later. Right now, I bet she is hungry. Why don’t you see if you can't get her to latch on?”
You look down and pull your left breast out in the open. The nipple is hard and raw, but you present it to her so she knows this is where she will be eating for a while. She opens her mouth and seeks out the nipple. She doesn’t have any teeth, but it hurts a bit when she finally does latch on. She gets in a good rhythm, and you just sigh happily. You’re so in love with her.
“We’ll check back in with you later on. We’ll give you time alone,” the nurse says.
They clean the room as much as they can before leaving it until it’s only you and Dean left.
“Look at what we made,” you cry and smooth her hair back.
You didn’t know you were still crying until you tasted salt. The pregnant version of you is gone, and now it’s just you and your body in the room. Joanna needs her mother more than anything, and you’re going to do your damnest to give her that. The last piece of the puzzle slides into place, and you finally feel complete--whole again.
You wipe the tears from your eyes and stand up. You march right over to your body and grab your hand. This time, you’re the one that shines brightly, and you’ve turned into the mist you saw happen three times. You’re sucked into your body, ready to finally wake after two weeks of resting.
You’re ready to get to work.
“You know, after Nikolai... they asked Camille to take his spot. I mean, she's so popular… was so popular,” Melanie sighs, looking at the flyer that Dean had in his pocket.
“Okay, uh, out of all three people on this flyer, who would you say is the ‘top dog’?”
“Well, it's not really like that. My grandma wrote a few books, and Imelda was on ‘The Nate Berkus Show’ twice. I guess they were doing pretty well. Do you think that's why she went after them?”
“I mean, if you had to guess, who do you think would be next in line?”
“I don’t know,” she stutters.
“Well, your grandma was headlining at the big hall, so who do you think they would ask to fill in for her?”
“Probably… me,” she gasps.
Wherever Sam is, he better figure out who has Margaret’s bones because Dean can feel Margaret coming soon. Sam went to nearly every store that had the ingredients used in a binding spell. Whoever performed these spells, needed those things. However, he’s come up empty. None of them had the vibes that they were secretly a murderer. His head is swimming, and he needs a distraction no matter how tiny it may be. He takes out his phone and dials Bobby.
“This is Bobby.”
“Hey, it’s Sam. I heard about Y/N. Is she okay?”
“Sam. Haven’t heard from you in a long time. Y/N is still out. I don’t know what to do. I don’t even know who to call. What if she doesn’t wake up?”
“I’m sure she will. I’ll try and look for something when this case is done.”
“How’s it going?”
“I’m trying my last lead here. I just wanted to check on Y/N. I’ll call you later.”
Before Bobby could reply, Sam hung up and headed inside the emporium where he and Dean got the faux necklace from.
“Agent,” Jimmy greets when he sees the younger brother. “Are you here with my check?”
“I'm looking for someone who bought some things from you.”
Sam places a piece of paper down on the counter that has a list of the ingredients used.
“How do you know they’re from me?”
“I'm kind of doubting they sell ash-wood altars at the Gas 'n Sip.”
“Valid. Let me see the list.” Jimmy takes out his record books to see who might have purchased the items. “Ah. Here we go. Credit-card receipt. I assume you want the address?”
“That’d be great. Thanks,” Sam says, giving a tight smile.
“It's the least I can do. I just heard about Camille Thibodeaux,” he makes small talk, handing over the slip of paper with the address.
“Thanks a lot.”
Sam ignores his comment and leaves, not seeing the cunning smile on Jimmy’s face.
“You’re welcome.”
Sam wastes no time getting to the address he gave him. He doesn’t have any time to waste, so he barges into the house with his gun drawn. Instead of witchcraft and spellbooks everywhere, there are couples in a circle much like a Lamaze class. Everyone screams when they see Sam, but his brain doesn’t register this isn’t the right place.
“Where's the altar?” he exclaims.
“It's there!” the instructor shudders, pointing to the “altar”.
“You’re not a… necromancer.”
“This is a Lamaze class, I swear.”
“I-I believe you. Sorry.”
Sam quickly leaves before he does any more damage to those poor people. The fact that Jimmy sent him to the wrong address, it’s pretty clear that Jimmy is the one who is summoning Margaret. He takes out his phone to inform his brother what’s happening.
“Dean, it's the pawn-shop guy.”
“How do you know?”
“He goose-chased me to a fucking pregnant yoga class.”
“Alright, well, figure out where he put her bones.”
Melanie gasps, and he knows that Margaret is there.
“I will.”
“Fast, Sam.”
Sam heads back to the store which is coincidentally closed. Sam remembers the business card that Jimmy gave him when they first visited him. If he had to guess, then Jimmy went running home to summon Margaret.
809 Main Street Lily Dale, N.Y. U.S.A. 14752.
Jimmy’s store is 811, so all Sam has to do is walk down two doors and he’s at his place. Once he finds it, Sam easily picks the lock. The place is silent, but all Sam need is the altar. Once he finds the bones, then he can finally move on with his life. He holds his gun in front of him as he walks through his house. In the backroom is the altar fit with a skull, a lit candle, and some other witchy objects. Sam picks up the skull to examine it, but he freezes when the sound of a gun being cocked behind cocked is heard. Two seconds later, the barrel of the gun is placed at Sam’s neck.
“Somehow, I just knew you'd be back. Hi, Agent. Put the skull down,” Jimmy says behind him.
“Okay, okay. Take it easy. Here.” Sam raises the skull over his shoulder so Jimmy can take it, and when he reaches for it, Sam pulls the blanket over his eyes. He turns quickly and snatches the gun from Jimmy’s hand. He shoves him backward and points the gun at Jimmy instead. “Alright. That’s enough. Nice binding spell.”
“It doesn't matter. She helps me because she wants to,” Jimmy chuckles.
“Excuse me?” Sam asks, knocking over the altar with his foot.
“Margaret and I are the same. We're the real thing. But guess what--sometimes the real thing just isn’t pretty or entertaining enough. When I show people what I'm capable of, it scares them. I can't pay my rent! Margaret's happy to kill for me. She likes the leash.”
“You’re sick.”
“You know what else I am? A real psychic, you dick-bag.”
Jimmy raises his hand, and the gun flies out of Sam’s hand and onto the floor by his feet. Jimmy picks it up with a chuckle.
“Where are the rest of the bones? These people don't deserve to die!”
“Oh, come on! Are you kidding me? I live in squalor because I can't put on a show like them?”
“Don't do this. They're in the bedroom, aren't they?” Sam asks, glancing at the bedroom door.
“No.” Jimmy shoots at Sam, but his aim is just laughable. It doesn’t even come close to hitting Sam. “You're not getting in there.”
Jimmy looks behind him, and Sam takes this opportunity to get the drop on him. Sam takes out another gun he had behind his back and shoots Jimmy dead. He falls to the ground in a bloody mess, but Sam doesn’t care. He picks up the skull and rushes into the bedroom to see if he can’t figure out where the bones are before it’s too late. The only thing inside the room is a bed and a dresser, and he takes the risk of looking at the bed first. He peels back the blanket and almost gags at the sight of Margaret’s bones in his bed.
Sam takes out lighter fluid and salt before burning the bones. He just hopes he’s not too late, and that Melanie isn’t dead.
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