Tag Archives: Sam

One For The Memory, Two For The Pain




Request from qslucid: I just saw your amazing Samifer fic, wonder if I can request for another? Maybe Demon Blood Addicted Sam, I imagine the scene of Sam drinks Lucifers’ blood and very enjoying it, whether salvation or corruption in the end would be good. <3

I hope you enjoy it!

Requested: 19.04. 25

Written: 19.05.02

Words: 1,897

Samifer, DemonBloodAddict!Sam, Hallucifer


“I told you he’d start to suspect something.” The blonde stretched his legs out in front of him, eyes on the giants’ kneeling form as he dug through the closet.

“Oh, well, good for you,” Sam continued flinging clothes behind him, getting increasingly desperate the deeper he dug, “C’mon, it’s gotta be in here somewhere.”

Lucifer peered over the edge of the bed, “What are you even looking for?”

“My contacts,” he reached the back wall of the closet, face falling, “They’re not here.”

“Contacts?” Lucifer sat up, tilting his head slightly in curiosity, “Since when do you wear contacts?”

Sam huffed, spinning away from the closet on his knees, scanning the room, “I don’t. I bought them after the last time they’d….” he let his voice trail off as his eyes landed on the dresser, maybe I moved them? He got up and made his way over to it, pulling out one of the drawers, beginning to dig through it.

“You’re worried your eyes will change?” Lucifer moved to sit on the edge of the bed frame, eyes wide, “How much have you been drinking?”

Sam shot a look over his shoulder, “What? No. Not that much. Shut up,” he turned back to the dresser, beginning his assault on the next drawer.

“Then why do you need them?”

“Hey, Sam,” Deans’ voice made the giant jump, and his head whipped up to face the open door. The blonde surveyed the clothes strewn about the floor, and the open closet doors before his eyes landed on his brother, hunched over the dresser, fistfuls of clothing in both hands, “… You lose something?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam placed the clothes in his hand down, and straightened up slowly, “Y’know that pocket knife you gave me last year at Christmas? I was trying to find it.”

His brother didn’t look convinced but he nodded anyway, “Steaks are almost done.”

“Okay, great,” the brunette forced himself to smile, “Thanks.”

“They’ll be done in fifteen. Think you’ll be done before then?”

Sam forced a laugh and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be down in a few.”

His brother did one more take of the room before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Sam let out a heavy breath before turning back to the dresser, beginning to dig through it again, that was close.

“Sam,” Lucifers’ hand on his shoulder made him turn. The devil searched his eyes, “You should get yourself sorted. I’ll clean this up.”

“Don’t be stupid,” the giant waved a dismissive hand at the devil before turning back to the dresser, “I’ll find them and then I’ll-”

“Sam,” he kept his voice hard, “Go shower. Now.”

“But I-”

“Do you want them to interrogate you over dinner?”

The giant open and closed his mouth silently before shaking his head.

“Good, then go. I’ll deal with this.”

Sam raised his eyebrow at the blonde, why are you suddenly being so nice? “You sure?”

“If you get caught you won’t be any fun to hang around,” Lucifer began picking clothes up from the floor, “And try to work on not looking so strung out.”

“I’m not-”

The devil pointed to the door, “Go.”

Sam rolled his eyes but obeyed, padding down the hallway to the bathroom. He shut the door, before turning to look at himself in the mirror, okay… maybe I do look a little dishevelled. He leaned to his right, turning the tap on the tub, nothing a shower can’t fix.

“Hey, Winchester!”

The call made the giant turn, smoothing his shirt back down as he saw a person standing in the open doorway, who the hell is that? The guy came toward him, evil smile twisting his features.

“Christo.” The mans’ eyes flicked black, damn it.

Sam instinctively took a step backward, feeling his leg hit the edge of the tub, scanning the counter for anything he could use to kill the demon.

“Aw, what’s the matter, Sam? Forgot to bring your special knife with you?” The thing laughed as he almost fell backward into the tub, “At least it’ll be an easy clean up.”

“How’d you get in here?”

“Pfft, please,” the demon gave him a pointed look, “This ain’t exactly Fort Knox.”

Sam flicked his eyes to his left, noting his razor sitting in the shower caddy. He turned back to the demon, I should have enough time to-

“What’re you smirking at?” The demon was no more then a few inches from his face, “You want to die or something?”

Sam lunged for the razor, slashing it across the demons’ throat. The demon stumbled back a few steps in surprise, giving Sam enough time to break the blade out of the plastic, before slashing his throat again, deeper this time. The smell of blood filled the room, and Sam couldn’t help the relaxation he felt at the familiar stench. He swung the body around, holding it up above the bathtub, subconsciously licking his lips as he was mere inches away from the wound.

He starred at the blood, free flowing from the demons’ neck, eyes transfixed as it traced it’s way down toward its’ chest. It wouldn’t be that bad if I had some… would it? No, he half-turned away from the body, I can’t. I need to- he caught a glimpse of himself in mirror, noting his bloodshot eyes and too white face, before turning back to the body in his arms, he did say to not look so strung out…

Just enough for me to not look so haggard, Sam licked his way up to the wound, mouth closing around the middle of the cut, sucking that wonderful red liquid down his throat. His body practically exploded the moment the liquid hit his tongue, he saw fireworks behind his eyelids and felt his body simultaneously get its’ second wind and relax.

He closed his eyes as he sucked the blood down, revelling in the way it warmed his throat as he gulped it down.

“Sam?”

The brunette jumped at the knock on the door, dropping the body into the tub, watching as if in slow motion as the water began washing the blood down the drain, shit.

“Sam?”

He tore his eyes away from the body, doing his best to let go of the disappointment he felt as the blood mixed with the water before swirling down the drain, “Y-yeah?”

“Steaks are ready.”

“O-okay,” he turned the water off, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

He held his breath as he watched the shadow of feet under the door. They stayed a moment, and he could practically see his brothers’ raised hand through the door. He heard his brother sigh before watching as the shadows’ turned and disappeared, hopefully back downstairs.

He turned in a slow circle around the bathroom, noting the lack of blood spray on the wall, what the hell? He turned his attention back to the tub, eyebrows raising at the lack of body. How the hell…? He turned his eyes to the too-small window against the back wall of the shower, not too surprised to see it still shut. He sat on the edge of the tub, maybe I didn’t slit his throat deep enough… maybe he was still conscious and vanished.

But why didn’t he just kill me? Sam got up, shaking his head, going over to the sink to wash the blood from his face. He splashed some cool water on his face, noting the way it felt colder then normal. He patted his face dry before running his hands through his hair, smoothing it back against his head, heading for the door, I guess I’m on salt-line duty tonight.

 

 

Sam let out a heavy sigh as his body hit the mattress, that was the longest dinner ever.

“Well what did you expect?” Lucifers’ voice made the giant look up, following the devil with his eyes from the doorway to the dresser, “You know everything seems slower when you’re juiced.” At the look the brunette gave him, he waved a dismissive hand at him, “Don’t bother. As if I didn’t hear that scuffle in the bathroom.”

“Speaking of,” Sam got up, despite the screaming of his body not to, “How did he even get in here?”

Lucifer kept his expression careful, “What do you mean?”

“It’s not like Bobby to leave a salt-line unchecked. If there was a break in one of the lines, he would’ve fixed it, right?” Sam brought one hand up to the side of his head at it began throbbing, “He’s not exactly lax about that kind of thing,” he grit his teeth as the pounding began to get worse, involuntarily squinting his eyes against the now-too-bright light, “What the hells’ wrong with me?”

Lucifer pushed off the dresser, walking over to the light switch, flicking it off, “You’d think you’d know by now.”

The pounding slightly lessened and he gave the devil his best confused look, “What?”

“Sam,” Lucifer made his way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it, “You were my vessel. Did you really think any bottom of the barrel demons’ blood would do?” He crossed his legs, shaking his head, “Didn’t Ruby explain this to you?”

Sam shook his head, instantly regretting it as it took the pounding in his head up to a violent stabbing.

The blonde placed an uncharacteristically kind hand on his knee, “If you keep drinking bottom-feeders’ blood, it’s going to affect your body. Hell, it is affecting your body already. That headache you’ve been pretending not to have for the past two hours? That’s because of the blood. That demon that came to visit you, Damon? I know, ironic name, but he’s about as bottom barrel as one can get. You, my vessel,” Lucifer slid his hand up from his knee to his face, “You need nothing less then the highest quality blood. Knights of Hell, Lilith, or even,” his eyes sparkled dangerously, taking a deep breath, “Mine.”

Sam clenched his jaw against the pain in his head, doing his best to turn this new information over, to make it make sense. He watched through his eyelashes as Lucifer dragged a razor blade across his wrist, before holding it up to the brunette, giving him a small smile. Sam wasn’t sure if it was because of the pain in his head that was impairing his judgement, or something else, but he latched onto the devils’ arm and began sucking down that wondrous bright red liquid.

As soon as the first drops hit his tongue, he felt his body relax, and the pain in his head begin to subside. He brought both hands up, keeping the arm pressed against his face with so much force, his knuckles turned white.

Lucifer chuckled, bringing his free arm up to pet his head, “That’s it, Sam. Drink as much as you need. You’ve tapped a never-ending keg.”

Sam kept sucking that crimson liquid down, Lucifer oddly content to sit there and wait until he drank his fill, the sun disappearing from view being the only indicator of how long they sat there. The brunette finally retracted the devils’ arm, an audible pop ringing throughout the room as he let go.

Sam flopped backward on the bed, eyes closing in satisfaction. Lucifer kept petting his hair, watching as the giants’ breath began to even out, “Very good, Sam.”


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Flipped




Written for the SPN Amino apps’ What If? Weekend Challenge. (What if Jess went with Sam when Dean picked him up at school?) Coda to Pilot.

Written: 18.01.20

Words: 325

SamxJess


“Jess, this isn’t a discussion, you’re not coming.”

“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean ran his eyes over her body, “I think it’d be fun being in a car with her.”

Now I really regret not wearing long sleeves, she crossed her arms over her chest, suppressing an eye roll when Deans’ face fell. Sam starred at his brother, how can you be thinking like that right now?

He shook his head, turning back to his girl, “It’s too dangerous, if something were to happen to you-”

“Too dangerous?” She strode over to the closet, beginning to stuff clothes in a bag, “So what? I get to stay here worrying about you? Not happening.”

“Yeah, Sammy, how is that fair?”

Jess scoffed, no way in hell am I leaving him alone with that.

“Dean can you please just-”

“Okay, okay, geez. I was just trying to help,” she heard Dean grumble as he made his way to the door, “I’ll be in the car.”

The door slammed shut, and now it was just her and Sam. She didn’t bother turning or stopping packing, “Do you really think I’m going to let you do anything dangerous alone with him?”

“Jess,” he padded over to her, laying a hand on her shoulder, how can I make you understand? “I-I can’t lose you.”

She closed her eyes, why do you have to use that voice? She took a breath before spinning around, “Sam-” she cut herself off as she saw his puppy dog eyes starring back at her, you’re not making this easy, “You think I could lose you?”

He blinked, puppy eyes disappearing, as if he didn’t think of that, she placed a kiss on his cheek, “I need to know you’re safe.”

He sighed, looking defeated, “I won’t let anything happen to, I promise.”

She smiled before turning around him, making her way to the door, he’s so over-dramatic. We’re just finding his dad, how dangerous could it be?


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(Red String of) Fate




Written: 19.02.01

Words: 730

Teen!Chesters, Abusive!Alcoholic!John,

TW: SH


He starred down at the red string tied around his wrist in annoyance, seriously? You had to pick this week? As if the blonde didn’t have enough to deal with, now his stupid ‘red string of fate’ chose to become brighter.

According to the lore, that meant he and his ‘true love’ were getting closer – the brighter it gets, the better chance you have of running into your fated other half. It could happen any time, any age, and was supposed to be a celebratory thing – you finally finding your other half out there in the big wide world.

Dean thought it was closer to a crock of shit then some fairytale. People were way too obsessed with finding their ‘love’, some would travel to every corner of the world they could in desperation, and the girls at school? They hooked up with pretty much any guy they could get their hands on – some of them thinking the fated love needed to be ‘activated’ – only to end up running around the room gathering their clothes, never to speak to the guy again when the strings didn’t glow intensely.

No, it was much better in Deans’ opinion to leave well enough alone and go about your own life – if the stories were true and you were fated to be together, you’d run into each other at some point, regardless of if you went searching for them, right?

“Dean!”

The shout from downstairs startled the blonde, and he quickly buttoned the sleeves on his shirt, no need making a big deal out of this.

He trooped downstairs to see John standing at the base, holding Sam by the collar.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep an eye on your brother?”

“Sorry, Sir,” Dean grabbed his brother by the wrist – not missing the cut over his eye that was most definitely not there this morning – all but pulling him into the banister.

“I was in the middle of a fucking important job! Y’know, the kind that puts food on the table for your sorry asses!”

“It won’t happen again,” Dean roughly shoved his brother up the stairs, behind him.

“It better not,” the brunette turned on his heel, picking the half-drunk bottle of Jameson up from the coffee table, “He better have that homework done by the time I finish.”

“Yes, Sir,” Dean watched as his father collapsed on the couch before he turned back up the stairs, following his brother. Once they were in the privacy of their bedroom, he turned to his brother, “What happened?”

Sam sighed, deflating as he sat on his bed, “I was just trying to go out for a run,” he ran a hand through his hair, sleeve pulling down revealing his own red string, it was glowing too, “I didn’t turn the light on because I didn’t want to wake him. I got all the way to the door when I accidentally kicked over an empty bottle.”

The blonde let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, “They weren’t at the curb?”

“He said he needed to save them for a ‘project’,” he gave his brother a pointed look before flopping backward onto the bed, shirt lifting slightly revealing angry, red lines across his too-thin hips, those look fresh, “How much longer?”

“Not long,” Dean crossed the room, kneeling beside the bed to pull out the box of cash he’d been saving, “Just a few more weeks.”

“You’ve been saying that since I was 6, Dean.”

“Why do you think I never say a number?” He cocked an eyebrow at the upside-down smile his brother was giving him, “Just hang on a few more months. Once I’m 18 I can become your guardian and we can finally get outta here.” He replaced the lid and put the box in the closet, he made sure to keep it’s location rotating, just in case. He made his way over to the bed sitting beside his brother, tilting his head trying to get a better look at the cuts, “How much longer until you stop this, huh?”

Sam quickly pulled his shirt down and sat up in one fluid motion, sly smile on his face, “Not long. Just a few more weeks.”

Dean let out a dry chuckle and shook his head, “Deal.”


Wish it was longer? Let me know in the comments! (Longer version would turn into Destiel/Sabriel)

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On The Pyre

Request from ianneart (Tumblr): Hi! I got a samifer fic idea in mind (lel). Im currently watching season 6 in supernatural and i  saw this interesting thing sam said about hallucinating lucifer to bobby : “seeing Lucifer is…okay. I sorta think it’s the best scenario situation of them all.”

And my samiferness got jump started like nobody’s business. I imagine it like a one-shot, sam-centric pondering of sorts, where sam takes us through his mind and manages to convince us Lucifer’s company is…okay.

I’m so sorry this is so late! I hope you enjoy the fic regardless.

Started: 16.04.29

Finished: 19.03.15

Words: 2,146

Samifer, Hallucifer


“You’re sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?” Dean threw his duffle over his shoulder and paused in the doorway, not wanting to leave his mentally ill brother.

“Dean, I’m fine.”

“Yeah Dean, we’re gonna have a great time,” Lucifer jumped up from his spot on the couch to stand beside the hunter and winked.

What the hell are you doing?

The blonde frowned, “What Sammy? Oh right… you don’t like when I talk in front of Big Bro.”

The younger man tried to hide his confusion and focused on his brother.

Dean scrubbed a hand down his face, “I left my number on the fridge. Call if anything… happens.”

“Will do,” Sam nodded, “Now go give those sons-of-bitches what’s coming to them.”

While he was grateful for his brother’s protectiveness, he didn’t understand his lack of confidence in him, he’d been alone plenty of times before without issue.

“But you aren’t truly alone now,” Lucifer wrapped a possessive hand around the giant’s arm, “Besides, it’s not like having me here is the real problem,” he stroked it tenderly, “right Sammy?”

Focus… Sam ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to block out the words.

With a regretful look back to his brother, Dean nodded and headed out.

“Finally… I thought he’d never leave,” Lucifer clapped the hunter on the shoulder as he closed the door.

He does like to worry. Wait, what are you doing? Don’t let him in, Sam heard the Impala take off as he made his way to the couch.

“Well, now that we’re alone…” Lucifer waggled his eyebrows and straddled the hunter.

“What the fuck,” the giant jumped up and took a couple steps backward.

“Sam,” the blonde gave him a curious look as he picked himself up off the floor, “we’ve done this before you know.”

“No we haven’t,” the hunter had the nerve to look appalled, much to the devil’s amusement.

As if he doesn’t remember it was his idea… He brushed himself off and analysed the hunter, “Sam, do you… ,” he struggled to find the words, not wanting to give something away that he wasn’t ready to hear, “You remember what happened in the cage, don’t you?”

“Of course I remember,” he crossed his arms and cocked his head, “why do you ask?” And why do you sound so… hurt?

Lucifer shifted his gaze down to the floor as he worked out how to continue, “So then you… remember? W-what we did?”

“Damn right I remember what you did to me you son-of-a-bitch,” he couldn’t help but notice the flinch the blonde gave at his tone, Pfftt, please Sam… as if the devil is scared of you, get real.

“No,” Lucifer closed his eyes and sighed before he locked gazes with the hunter, “Do you remember what we did?”

“What do you-”

“In the cage, yes you were tortured, but never by my own hand,” the explanation rushed out of him, almost as if he couldn’t stop it, “it was all Michael. I told you I’d never hurt you Sam, and I meant it. I did everything I could to get between you and Michael, I couldn’t just stand there and watch him break you over and over again. So I… I made you a hide out.”

“A hideout?”

“A place where Michael wouldn’t be able to get to you. I set up a decoy version of you for him to take his frustrations out on, so he wouldn’t notice you were gone-”

“A decoy? Where do you get a decoy Sam Winchester from, Hunters R Us?” Sam chuckled and crossed his arms, remaining skeptical of the explanation.

“Not exactly…” Lucifer winced, clearly not wanting to divulge the information.

“Lucifer,” Sam’s voice was hard and he took a step toward the shorter man, “what did you use as a decoy?”

“Your body.”

“My body?!”

“Yes. I pulled your body apart from your soul,” Lucifer began again, following as the hunter collapsed back onto the couch, “completely detached so your soul wouldn’t sustain any more damage. A soul can only take so much before it becomes so corrupted that it can no longer be restored,” he was sitting on the coffee table now, cross legged in front of Sam.

“Wait, what do you mean restored?”

Lucifer sighed, “As you know, if a soul gets twisted and corrupted long enough it becomes a demon which means that person is then forever damned to Hell.”

“So…” he could see the hunter was having trouble piecing it together, “you prevented my soul from becoming irreversibly corrupted so I could what? Get into Heaven?” Sam threw his head back and laughed as he saw the blonde’s cheeks flare up, “Well I’m sorry to disappoint you Satan, but I’m pretty sure I’m the poster boy for what to do to get yourself into the fiery gates.”

Lucifer shook his head, “You don’t understand.”

“I don’t understand?” he stood up and started pacing, mind racing, I can’t believe I’m discussing the fate of my soul with the devil, “well please, by all means, explain it to me.”

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, this isn’t going to sound good, “If your soul was irreversibly corrupted and you became a demon, you could never be used as a vessel again,” at the look Sam gave him he continued, “I know you think that is a good thing, but your soul shines so bright…,” he dropped his gaze down to the floor, “seeing it corrupted would have devastating effects.”

Sam remained silent, unsure of what to make of this news. Is he telling the truth? If he is lying, what is he hoping to achieve? What’s the point of him telling me this?

“I will wage a war against the angels on the day when Sam Winchester isn’t allowed into the garden.”

It was spoken barely above a whisper, but Sam definitely heard the words. He wasn’t sure whether or not to believe them, but the soft spoken tone made him start to question his earlier judgement. There was no denying the undertone of care that sentence carried, as though he was speaking about someone he didn’t just need to keep safe, but wanted to.

“Lucifer,” Sam kept his tone soft, and found himself placing a hand on the man’s knee, “what don’t I remember?”

The blonde drew in a shaky breath in a failed attempt to keep his voice calm, “After I detached your soul, I gave your body specific instructions. It was to taunt Michael and lead him over to one side of the cage, so I could get your soul to the hideout on the other side. It did a remarkable job,” he noted with a small smile.

“Michael couldn’t understand how you’d got so cocky but was more than happy to rip the confidence back out of you. Once I made sure he was…” he swallowed thickly and closed his eyes, “occupied, I brought you over to the hideout, and did what I could to heal the damage,” it sounded as though he was fighting back tears and he hid his face in his hands, “but there wasn’t much I could do. I thought I could heal you, as I was once an angel but I-”

He cut himself off and hung his head lower, drawing in a shaky breath. Sam blinked and was surprised to see he had encompassed the ex-angel in his arms while he’d listened. What the… ?

“It’s okay, Sam,” Lucifer broke in, scooting out of the hunter’s embrace and hastily wiping at his eyes, “it’s my voice,” he gave a weak smile, “there’s a reason they called me ‘silver-tongued’.”

Sam got up and sat back down on the couch, unsuccessfully avoiding thinking about how… familiar it was to hold him, and about how unbelievably captivating it was to hear him speak. There was no way that was normal.

“What, ugh,” the hunter cleared his throat, “what happened when you touched my soul?”

“I ended up branding it, similar to when a soul gets bought by a demon, anyone else who touched your soul would know that I claimed it. That meant that it couldn’t be traded in any deal, or sold without my permission.”

The way Lucifer explained what he’d done made it sound like he felt guilty, and the way he kept avoiding Sam’s eyes didn’t help. Well what do you expect? He condemned your soul to Hell when that was the last thing he’d wanted, Sam found himself reaching forward again, but didn’t stop himself this time. Didn’t feel the need to stop himself. What would be the harm, anyway? No one’s around.

“The good news,” the blonde’s voice broke threw the hunter’s thoughts, “was that since I had branded it, it had become protected against further damage. No one, not even Michael could continue to harm it,” he ran a hand through his hair and rested his head against Sam’s shoulder, “the bad news, is that it couldn’t be healed past what I’d started. My branding had… preserved it, formed a protective barrier around its current state. Nothing could get in, good or bad… just in time too.”

Lucifer had stopped talking then, letting his voice taper off at the end of the sentence like the last few notes of a song, and allowed a silence to fall while he was held close to the hunter’s chest.

Sam breathed him in and kissed the top of his head, no longer caring about knowing all the answers. He just wanted to savour this moment, the peacefulness of holding him close. Wanted to savour the dream-like state that had taken over before Dean got back. He prayed for his brother not to come back so soon. After all, how often did he get to enjoy moments like this?

He wasn’t sure whether it was because his voice carried some sort of magic, or because of the branding on his soul, but having Lucifer in his arms, feeling his heartbeat had softened the moment—he didn’t want his brother stomping in and shattering that.

“Not too long after that,” the blonde began again with a long sigh, “Michael had began to look for me. I was stupid to think he wouldn’t have noticed I disappeared,” he shook his head at his own misjudgment, “I sensed he was getting close to the hideout so I had to leave you to meet him.”

“He caught up to me in the middle and was dragging your body behind him. Seeing what he did to you…” Lucifer snuggled his head against Sam’s chest and tightened his grip, “he was obviously curious as to where I’d been and why I wasn’t helping torture you since I am the devil,” he sneered the word like it was too vial to pass through his lips.

Like he doesn’t want the title.

“I couldn’t let on to what I was doing,” he dropped his voice low, as if saying it quieter would make it hurt less, “so I-” his voice broke and he buried his head into the hunter’s chest, “Sammy, I’m sorry.”

Sam turned him around so he was no longer sideways across his lap and pulled him close, rubbing a soothing hand over his back when he felt tears start to drip down his shirt.

“Ssshhh… It’s okay… Luce you’re okay,” Sam kept his voice soft as he continued rubbing circles into his back.

Sam’s words only succeeded in making him cry harder and the hunter would be lying if he said seeing him cry wasn’t hurting his heart. Whatever you did, it doesn’t matter.

“Sam-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I was so worried, I never wanted to tell you.”

“Luce,” Sam pushed him backward slightly, gently swiping at his eyes, “I don’t care what happened. You-”

The door slamming open made the giant jump, and he stood, confused as his brother burst through the door, eyes frantic.

“Uh, Dean?”

“They’re coming,” he all but ran to the back of the cabin, “We need to leave, now.”

Sam rushed to the back as well, gathering his stuff, “What happened?”

“No time,” Dean brush passed him, glancing quickly at the giants’ face before pausing, keeping his eyes on him, “… Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he shifted his weight nervously and glanced back at the now-empty couch, “why?”

“Looks like – never mind. We don’t have time. Meet me outside in five if you don’t want to be monster chow.”

Sam continued packing his stuff, doing his best to sift-through all the information he’d been given.

“Better hurry, Sam. I can feel them,” Lucifer was spread out on the bed, eyes on the floor.

“Luce-”

“Dean’s waiting.”

Sam sighed as he shouldered his duffle, making his way back out to the living room, pausing in the front entrance, “Come with me.”


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Hunter Helper




Request from CarmillaPoisonberry (DA), who asked for: got another sick!fic in mind. Sick!Dean and Caring!Sam in the middle of a hunt. Taking place anytime after Season 6. (14.07.14)

I’m sorry this is so late! Please don’t hate me! Also, I’m sorry it went off the rails from the prompt in the middle, but I’m hoping you still like it anyway.

Words: 5,601

Hallucifer, Coda to S7 (Some spoilers)


“Damn it,” Dean glared down at his cast and dropped his hand back to his lap, uselessly.

The damn thing made it impossible for him to scratch at his leg, making him go just the tad bit crazy. He knew he wasn’t supposed to scratch at it, the doctors told him that meant it was healing, but damn if he didn’t try. How is anyone supposed to ignore this itching for two weeks anyway? He’d got so desperate a few days ago that he tried to get a stick in there but it ended up snapping in half, so now not only did he have an unreachable itch, he also had half a stick sticking out from his leg.

I really didn’t think that through, the blonde tugged uselessly at the end of the stick, only ending up pushing it further into his cast. The bark added to the itching. Every time he shifted his leg, the stick would move ever so slightly and tease him by scrapping against his leg – too slowly to bring any relief. Great. He let out a sigh and flopped his head back against the couch.

He knew that he shouldn’t be complaining about his leg, considering Sam had the devil riding shotgun, and the world was ending…again.

When did his life go so downhill?

Speaking of the devil…

Dean craned his neck against the back of the couch, trying to see into the back hall of the cabin, “Sam?”

All that met him was silence, which instantly spiked his worry meter. If Sam decided to fly the cuckoo’s nest, he wouldn’t even be able to go after him, unless he decided to cut his cast off. Which was a serious option if Sam did leave; there was no way he was going to just sit around if his brother was out walking around by himself.

“Sam?”

Still nothing. Damn it, he began struggling to get himself up off the couch, I swear to God, Sammy, if you left this cabin-

“Yeah, yeah, I’m right here,” The giant walked into the room, seeming shaken up about something, wringing his hands.

The blonde narrowed his eyes at his brother as he eased himself back down onto the couch, “Why didn’t you answer?”

“What do you mean?” Sam moved to help guide him back down, before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

“I had to call you more than once.”

“So?”

So, I can’t just spring up and go after you if you don’t answer. I need to know you’re safe.”

“Okay, jeez I didn’t realize you being injured meant I had to stay confined,” His eyes began wandering off to the right, in the direction of the kitchen, behind my head.

“Damn it, Sam,” he punched the cushion beside him, making the youngest jump, “You have the devil making you see who knows what, and I’m down a leg, this is serious.”

“Okay, sorry, I was…,” Dean didn’t miss the way his eyes focused on something behind his head again, “distracted.”

“What were you doing?”

“Nothing.”

That came out a little faster than necessary, “You wanna try that again?”

He finally turned his gaze back to his brother, “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“Sam.”

“Dean.”

The brother’s stared at each other for a few minutes, before Dean sighed and Sam got up from the table, making his way into the kitchen.

Oh, that’s great, now he’s playing cops and robbers, the blonde leaned his head against the back of the couch again, doing his best to keep his eyes on him. If you’re seeing him now, there’s no way I’m leaving you alone, “What’re you doing?”

“Having sex.”

“Aw, dude, not on the table! And keep your special sauce away from the milk! I do not need that in my cereal.”

“Ugh, Dean,” Bitch Face Number Seven, looks pretty funny upside down, actually, “that’s disgusting!”

“Hey, you’re the one who’s having sex in the kitchen; I’m just giving you some parameters.”

He heard him let out a frustrated groan before padding toward one of the back rooms, that I can’t get to. Dean internally swore his brother for doing that – he knew he did it on purpose, wanting some alone time. But his alone time wasn’t just him, which was what Dean didn’t trust. He knew he was being a pain in the ass, but it’s not like he didn’t have a reason, and with his bum leg, he didn’t exactly have much else to do either.

He punched one of the cushions next to him again, “Shit!”

The blonde heard the creak of a door closing, and then… nothing. Not good.

“Sam?”

He ran a hand through his hair and grit his teeth, doing his best not to explode, why are you being such an ass about this? “Sam!”

“What the fuck do you want?”

Whoa, attitude much? “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Going to the bathroom! Is that okay with you Dad?”

Aaaand now you’re pissed. Great. “You sure that’s all you’re doing?”

“Oh, no, you’re right. I forgot to mention the person I dragged in here earlier to interrogate.”

How am I supposed to know what you’re doing if you don’t just tell me? Dean took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair, tugging at it out of frustration, you’re not this stupid, Sam. You know why I’m worried. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, I can’t believe I’m doing this, “…What’d he tell you?”

“Jesus Dean!”

He heard the toilet flush, at least he was telling the truth, before Sam reappeared, his hands shaking slightly.

“Ew, dude, there’s no way you washed your hands that fast,” the blonde threw one of the pillows at him, he won’t even leave you alone to go to the bathroom? Damn.

The younger sighed, letting the pillow fall to the floor before crossing his arms over his chest, avoiding his brothers’ gaze, “I’m not five, Dean.”

“You should still wash your hands, no matter how old you are, Sammy. C’mon, I thought I raised you better then that.”

Eye roll, well, that’s a step down from pissed, I guess, “Dean, look, I don’t need you to-”

“I got a hunt for you.” Bobby burst through the door, throwing a newspaper toward Sam.

Dean didn’t bother to hide the offended look from the eldest, “Anything non-leviathan related?”

“Are you ever that lucky?”

Sam’s eyes scanned the paper, stopping every second or third line to flick over to his left, hands twitching slightly, as if wanting to grab whatever he was looking at, before he returned to reading. He’s still here? Fuck… Dean gave Bobby a look, but the elder man either didn’t notice, or didn’t care anymore.

“So, Sam,” he noted the small jump at the sound of his voice, c’mon, Lucifer, at least give him five friggin’ minutes! “what’s it say?”

“What?”

“The hunt? Is it our kind of thing?” You can’t focus? No way are you leaving.

“Oh, right, uh, it just says a farmer couple went missing a couple of days ago, only thing anyone found was a swipe of black ooze on one of the windowsills. Claiming the couple just up and left for a vacation,” Sam threw the newspaper down on the table.

He walked back out of eyesight, now you’re just trying to piss me off, returning a moment later with a duffle slung over his shoulder, extending a hand to his brother to give him the keys. Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he shook his head. Sam huffed a breath and shifted his weight, giving his brother Bitch Face Number Four.

“No way Sam.” You really think I’m gonna let you go out on a hunt? After that?

“Dean, it’ll be quick, two, three days max.”

“No Sam, you’re not going alone, especially not on a Leviathan thing.”

“Hey,” Bobby cut in, “I can go with him, make sure he doesn’t get his head ripped off.”

“Oh c’mon Bobby, you can’t watch him,” Dean barely glanced at the older man.

“You wanna try that again, Son?”

“You’re reflexes ain’t what they used to be, half a second late, and Sam’ll be dead. Or worse.”

“Reflexes ain’t…?” Bobby huffed, eyebrows raising, “Is your cast cutting off the circulation to your brain or something, Boy?”

“Look, I,” he ran a hand through his hair in agitation, what is with everyone today? “that’s not what I meant.”

The eldest gave the blonde an expectant look.

Don’t make me say it, “Bobby, I just… If Sam’s going on a hunt, I’m going with him.”

“Since when don’t you trust me to watch the kid?”

“It’s not your job, alright?” You should already know this, why’re you making me spell it out for you?

“Uh, Dean?”

“Bobby, it’s not that I don’t trust you-”

“Dean-”

“I just – I’m going stir crazy here, not being able to leave, I need to burn off some of this energy, y’know?”

“Dean!”

“What?” He followed his eyes to the empty space where the youngest used to be standing, “Shit.”

He swung his cast leg off the couch and braced himself against the arm, getting ready to stand, “How the hell did he do that? You’re standing in front of the door.”

“There’s a back door at the end of the hall.”

I’m going to kill him, He hoisted himself up and gave a small laugh of triumph as he didn’t immediately fall back over, “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Fine, next time I’ll give you a floor plan to the place,” he tossed his jacket at him before coming around to help.

“I got it,” the blonde swatted his hand away and thought of his next move, using the arm of the couch for support.

“He couldn’t have gotten far, he doesn’t have the keys to the Impala,” Bobby grabbed the crutches from the opposite wall and handed them over.

“Unless he hotwired it.” I swear to God, if you opened her up…

“We would’ve heard it start,” he yanked the door open and scanned the driveway for the vehicle anyway.

They were both half-way out the door when a creak from behind them made them stop and turn around.

“Uh, guys?” Sam came out of the back, shrugging his jacket on and took in the concerned look on their faces, “What? Did you decide I’m on lock down again?”

Dean moved as fast as he could back to the middle of room to hit his brother, “Don’t do that!”

Sam eyed his brother confused as he threw his duffle down on the small dining table, “Do what?”

“We thought you left for the hunt.” Bobby closed the door and helped the blonde back to the couch.

He made his way to the fridge, pulling out a couple of waters, “And neither of you realized I would’ve had to walk past you?”

“We thought you went out the back.” Dean flopped down with a sigh.

“There is no back way out of here.”

Dean glared at Bobby who just put his hands up in mock surrender and shrugged.

“My mistake.”

“Jesus, Bobby!”

“So,” the brunette stuffed the water bottles into his duffle before zipping it closed again and throwing it up on his shoulder, “can I go now?”

“No. You’re not going.”

“Dean-”

“No Sam. Let Bobby go. You can stay here and wait on me,” he gave his brother a thousand watt smile. No way am I letting you out of this house. Especially if you’re seeing Lucifer while you’re goddamn peeing.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked to Bobby, who was refusing to meet his eyes. Bobby sighed and snatched the paper off the coffee table before making his way back over to the door.

“I’ll call when I get there; let you know what I find.”

With that, Bobby disappeared out the door, leaving the brother’s alone. Sam made his way toward the back, rolling his eyes as he saw Dean tense.

He sighed and held up his duffle, “I’m going to put my stuff back.”

Dean waved a hand dismissively, letting him go before scrubbing a hand down his face, and letting out a deep sigh, fuck.

“Hey,” as soon as his brother got back into eyesight he hit him with another pillow, “go to the store?”

Sam caught this one and put it down on the dining table, “You sure I can do that by myself Dean?”

“No, but you’re here to wait on me, and me wants pie.” If you can do this by yourself, then we’ll see about letting you hunt. Definitely nothing Leviathan related, we’re starting you small. Salt n’ burns only.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head but walked toward the front door anyway.

“Hey, don’t forget these.” Dean threw him the keys. Bring him back in one piece for me, Baby.

“Yeah alright.”

“And some skin mags?”

“Anything else, your highness?” Sam turned back to him, bowing slightly.

Dean tapped his chin as if to think for a moment, “Pie! Definitely pie.”

“When do I ever not get you pie?”

The blonde opened his mouth to respond but closed it wordlessly, good point. He craned his neck to look at the kitchen behind him, “We might need some real food too.”

“Okay,” Sam had one hand on the doorknob, not even looking at him, eager, aren’t ya?

“And water, we’re down to the last case.”

“Fine.”

“And-”

Sam rolled his eyes, turning back to his brother, “Yes?”

“If you wreck the car,” he smirked at his brother, “I’ll kill you.”

“Yeah, alright. Can I go now?”

“Yeah you can go. I’m warning you now; if you’re not back in ten minutes I’m coming after you.”

“Dean, the store is fifteen minutes away at least, plus time to actually gather everything-”

“Oh, yeah, alright Mr. Cocky, you get half an hour then.”

Sam held up his hands in mock surrender before finally getting out the door, closing it behind him. Dean heard the Impala start up and rumble away, eyes on the clock, so he could time him.

He was serious, if Sam wasn’t back soon, he was going after him – he wasn’t just going to sit around while Lucifer had him doing who-knew-what to who-knew-who.

Dean leaned his head back against the couch, closing his eyes, don’t make me come after you.

 

 

“Dean!”

Dean jumped, startled, and looked around, trying to place himself. He relaxed slightly as he spotted Bobby over him, wait…

“Bobby?” He cleared his throat as he heard the grogginess of it.

“Where the hell’s your brother?”

“Supply run,” he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and stretched, “Did you forget something?”

“Forget something? Dean, I’ve been gone four days.”

“What?” He was definitely awake now.

Bobby flicked the light on, making Dean shield his eyes from the light, “I came back from the hunt to see the door unlocked, the Impala gone, you snoring on the couch and a lack of your mammoth of a brother.”

Fuck, he struggled to his feet, “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I got back yesterday, figured he was out on a supply run and waited to see if he’d come back. Gave the kid fifteen minutes from when I got in, when he didn’t show? I’ve been trying to wake you since.”

He is so dead. He started toward the door.

“Do you know where he went?”

“No, but I’ll start with the store and work my way up,” he reached into his pocket for the keys.

Fuck, I let him take the car! He banged a fist against the wall, “Can we take your truck?”

Bobby nodded, catching up to Dean, before running out the door. They climbed into his truck – needing to physically pull Dean half way into it first, which shaved off another couple minutes of catch-up time – before speeding off toward the store.

 

 

“C’mon Sam, I know you want to vent. Who better to listen than me?” Lucifer stretched his feet up onto the dash as they sped down the road, the youngest Winchester looking ready to explode, his grip on the steering wheel getting increasingly tighter.

“Leave me alone.” Sam pushed the palm of his left hand as hard as he could into the wheel.

Why can’t I just get some time to myself? Usually, Lucifer disappeared after a few minutes or he just hung around in the background, not really talking. But lately things had started to change – Sam would walk into a room to find him waiting there, actively trying to get him to respond, he seemed more in tune with the situation and would interject whenever there was a pause, and, perhaps the most annoying – the scar on his hand was pretty much useless.

“Don’t be mean, Sammy, I’m only trying to help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

“Oh c’mon,” Lucifer bumped his arm, “Tell me what’s bothering you about Big Bro.”

“It’s just-” he huffed, knuckles going white around the steering wheel, “He’s acting like I’m five. Like I can’t take care of myself. All the shit we’ve been through? And he just assumes I’m not able to handle this. I mean,” he pulled into the parking lot, “No offence but seeing you isn’t exactly the worst thing that’s happened to one of us, y’know?”

Lucifer nodded, “He has gotten more… controlling lately.”

“I know,” Sam got out of the car and made his way toward the entrance of the store, “I think it might be tied to losing Cas, but still…” he picked up a basket as they entered, pausing as Lucifer hopped into one of the carts, “… what’re you doing?”

“I’ve never rode in one before.”

Sam shook his head, replacing the basket, before making his way over to the cart, “You know they don’t go very fast, right? If you think riding in a car is slow – this’ll be ten times worse.”

Lucifer waved a dismissive hand at him before pointing to the doors, “Onward!”

Sam complied, making his way into the store pushing the cart, unable to ignore the thousand-watt smile the devil gave him.

“Don’t forget the pie, Sam.”

“I’m not gonna forget the pie,” he mentally cursed himself as a lady gave him a quizzical look as they passed, shit.

“What?” Lucifer turned to look at the lady, before turning back to the hunter, confused, “What’s wrong?”

Nothing, he turned down the produce aisle, throwing things into the cart occasionally.

“Ooohhh,” Lucifer nodded, “You don’t want to look crazy, got it.”

They turned down another aisle, Sam moving through it quickly, trying to find pie.

“Hold it!”

Sam stopped abruptly, glad the aisle was empty, “What the hell?”

Lucifer picked a box of Pop-Tarts up off the shelf, holding them out to show the hunter, “Can we get these?”

Sams’ brows furrowed in confusion, “Since when do angels need to eat? And since when do you like Pop-Tarts?”

Lucifer pet the box, “These are the best thing your kind has invented.”

“…Sure,” Sam held back his chuckle as the devil reached for another box, cradling both against his chest.

They continued shopping in silence for a while, before Sam doubled back on some of the aisles, scanning the signs above with frustration, “Where the hell is the pie?”

Lucifer pointed toward the back of the store, “Probably where it says Bakery?”

He stopped dumbfounded before shaking his head, of course, starting toward the back of the store.

He ducked as he heard a gunshot, before turning to the front of the store, eyes widening as he saw another him, “What the hell?”

“This is a robbery!” Clone-Sam yelled, firing two more shots into the ceiling, “Everybody down!” He made his way over to the cash, shooting some of the people in line, before throwing the cashier a bag, “Money, in!”

Sam was frozen to the spot, eyes fixed on the fake him, is it a shifter?

“H-hey!”

His head whipped around to the bakery counter, where a worker held their wall phone in his shaking hand, “D-don’t move!”

Shit, Sam quickly looked around, hoping for an exit.

“Psst,” Lucifer pointed to a door a few feet away.

Thank-you, he started toward it, doing his best to move as silently as he could, crouching down behind the cart. He stopped halfway, peeking over the cart at clone-him, who had moved on to another cashier.

“T-the police are on their way!”

Clone-Sams’ head whipped up at the yell, and, upon spotting the baker, his face twisted into an evil smile, “Good, tell them Sam Winchester says hi.” before shooting the man, eyes connecting with Sams’.

Shit, shit, shit, Sam continued toward the door, as he heard clone-him laugh. He turned just in time to see him jump up onto one of the counters, pointing his gun toward him, “Would’ya look at this? Seems we’ve got two of me!”

Fuck it, Sam stood, bolting for the door, bursting through it, as the alarm blared. He didn’t stop running until he reached the car, wrenching the door open before speeding away, “Fuck!”

 

 

“The Impalas’ not here,” Dean surveyed the parking lot from the truck, knuckles white around his cell, “Bobby, I don’t think he’s-” He cut himself off as he saw the older man come out of the front entrance to the grocery store, Sam in handcuffs.

Deans’ brows furrowed as he watched them get closer, his brother was smirking as they walked, like he wanted to get caught… Dean felt a boulder settle into his stomach as they reached the car and he winked, that’s definitely not Sammy.

 

 

“Yes!” Lucifer ran a hand through his hair, practically bouncing in the front seat, “Did you see that? Man, he was on fire!” His face was split into a giant grin and he turned to face the hunter, “There’s no way we can head back to the cabin now.”

Sam pulled the car off the road into an alley, eyeing the devil, “What’re you talking about?”

“Sam, everyone in that parking lot saw you get into this car. I bet there’s a BOLO out for it right now.”

“But… they would’ve caught me, I mean him… right?”

“You think whatever that was is gonna wait around for the police to show up and catch him? Or, isn’t it more likely he bolted not long after you did, and has a replica of the car?”

“Shit,” he rested his head against the steering wheel with a groan, “What am I supposed to do now?”

“C’mon Sam, what could be more fun then being on the lamb with the devil?” He clapped the giant on the shoulder before opening the door, “Come on, we gotta ditch this thing for a less conspicuous ride.”




 

“Where is he?”

Sam looked up, brows creasing slightly, “Sorry, what?”

“I said,” Dean took a few steps closer to his ‘brother’, hand tightening around his gun, “Where’s my brother?”

The giants’ expression softened and he smiled, gesturing to himself, “I’m right here, silly.”

“Uh-huh,” Dean dug his flask of holy water out of his jacket, eyeing the thing, “Then prove it.”

“Pfft, Dean,” Bitch Face Number Five – even that looked off.

He’d admit, the thing was pretty good at pretending to be his brother, but every so often, he would say, or react to something in a way that Sam just… wouldn’t. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he had a bad feeling that the thing in front of him wasn’t his brother.

The brunette sighed before grabbing for the flask, taking a big gulp of the holy water, pulling a face as he swallowed, “Ugh, dude, how old was that?”

The blonde replaced the flask before reaching for his knife, just as Bobby came back into the room.

The eldest looked to Dean, hand on his knife, “What kinda party am I missing in here?”

“Nothing,” Dean dropped his knife back into his pocket, “Hey Sam, why don’t you go fire up the grill for those steaks?”

“Sure thing!”

He waited until that thing was out of the kitchen before turning to the older man, “That’s not Sam.”

“C’mon, Boy,” Bobby dropped his voice and went to sit at the table, “What makes you so sure?”

“I don’t know,” he crossed his arms over his chest, “I just… it doesn’t feel like it’s him. He’s been acting weird ever since we picked him up at the grocery store.”

“Did you forget he’s got the devil riding shotgun? That’s gotta be doing a number on him.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face with a sigh, “He’s just… different.”

“It’s bound to change him, Dean. But we’ll get him put together, and things’ll go back to normal. Now,” Bobby nodded toward the window, “why don’t you go help the kid with the barbeque before he lights himself on fire?”

Dean followed the mans’ gaze out the window and saw Sam standing in front of the barbeque, sniffing the lighter fluid. The blonde sighed but nodded, before heading outside.

 

 

“They gone?”

Lucifer peeked back out the motel curtain before nodding, “Yeah, they’re gone.”

“Jesus,” Sam ran both his hands through his hair, “That was close.”

“Too close,” Lucifer made his way back to the bed and jumped on it, “I told you we should’ve kept moving.”

“And I told you that I needed to sleep.”

“Aw, come on,” he waved a dismissive hand at the hunter, “You could’ve slept in the car.”

“You mean the fire red convertible you stole? Oh yeah, that would’ve been a way better hiding spot.”

“Y’know…” Lucifer sat up, voice careful, “I could always just keep you awake.”

“It’s been four days, excuse me for needing some shut eye.”

Lucifer shrugged, “Just saying. We coulda kept driving.”

Sam stifled a yawn, raising his eyebrows at the devil, “Wait…what do you mean you could ‘keep me awake’?”

“Well…” Lucifer averted his gaze to the floor, “You wouldn’t exactly like it, but it could be done.”

“What is it?”

“You know.”

“No, Lucifer I-” he cut himself off before shaking his head, “Demon blood? You’re not serious?”

Lucifer was standing next to him in an instant, “Don’t you remember how much sharper you were when you were on it, Sam? You were stronger, had faster reflexes, barely slept – you were a machine. You had to be – you were set to be my vessel, after all. Only a person of the utmost strength can contain me.”

Sam shook his head and got up, “No. No way. Dean would ha-” his eyes widened in realization, “Shit, Dean! He’s gotta be going nuts!”

“Wha-?” Lucifer starred as the hunter moved to the bed, grabbing his duffle, “Where are you going?”

Sam threw his clothes into the duffle before zipping it, making his way over to the door, grabbing his jacket, “Home.”

 

 

“I knew it!” Dean punched the thing in the face again, heaving.

The thing just laughed, spitting black goo onto the floor, “What do you want? A medal?”

The blonde pulled out Ruby’s knife, plunging it into it’s heart, “Fuck you!”

“Dean!” Bobby dragged the hunter away from the thing tied to the chair, “That won’t do anything.”

“I don’t care!”

“Hey! We need him to tell us where your brother is,” Bobby gave the younger a pointed look, “Think you can play nice until we get that information?”

Deans’ lip curled in anger but he nodded, taking a breath.

The Leviathan chuckled as it watched them, “Better listen to Daddy, Junior.”

“You son-of-a-bitch!” Dean surged forward, nearly falling over his broken leg. He hobbled closer to the creature, bringing his head down so they were more-or-less eyelevel, “I’m gonna have fun figuring out a way to kill you.”

 

 

“Sam! Look out!”

Sams’ eyes shot open and he swerved the car back into the right lane, heart hammering in his chest, as the horn of the oncoming car faded, “Fuck!” He pulled the car over to the side of the road and rubbed his hands over his face, “I-I can’t drive, I’m too tired. Ugh!” He rested his head on the steering wheel, what am I gonna do?

“There’s still that other-”

“Jesus, Lucifer!” He shot the devil a look before reaching for the coffee cup, tipping it up as far as he could, trying to get every last drop of caffeine he could.

“That’s a phrase I don’t think I’ve heard,” The devil smiled before snatching the cup from the hunter, “Sam, come on. We both know what you need, and it isn’t more caffeine.”

“No, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not saying you’ve gotta go full black eyes again. Just drink enough to keep you awake enough to drive you back to the cabin without killing yourself, and then that’s it.”

Sam debated for a moment, brain foggy from lack of sleep.

“C’mon Sam, you have enough self control to handle just one cup, don’t you?”

“I…” he sighed before nodding, “Fine.”

 

 

“C’mon, Dean,” the creature sneered at him, black dripping out of his mouth, “We both know you can’t hurt me when I look like this.”

“Oh no?” Dean twisted the knife sticking out of its’ chest, face falling slightly as it didn’t cry out in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you waiting for this?” The Leviathan let out a cry of pain, before pointedly looking to the eldest, “Don’t tell me you taught him how to torture.”

Bobby glared, “Don’t worry. We got enough books to keep you busy for the next thousand or so years.”

“Ooohhh,” Leviathan-Sam smiled before turning back to Dean, “Let’s get started, then, shall we?”

 

 

“This doesn’t look good.”

Sam pulled up to the cabin slowly, noting the uncooked steaks on the barbeque and the open front door, “No, no it’s not.”

He got out of the car, gun at the ready as he approached the house, listening for any signs of movement. He made his way into the living room, eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of his brother or father figure. Feeling a sense of dread, he continued deeper into the cabin, feeling of dread growing as each bedroom he checked came up empty.

A whistle from Lucifer got him back into the hall, following the devils’ gaze to the floor, and the upturned carpet that revealed a trap door. This place has a basement? He opened the trap door and immediately heard his brother grunting, and it’s soundproof? He started down the steps as swiftly as he could without making too much noise. As he came down the stairs he saw his brother, getting choked out by what looked to be him.

Wait… what? He reached the bottom, and noted Bobby was laying on the floor, gash on his head preluding to why. He spotted the machete a few feet away and picked it up, before creeping up behind the creature, noting the black that was soaking the shirt it wore. Ah, his eyes met his brothers’, face melting into a relieved smile.

“Why’re you smiling?”

Momentarily stunned hearing his voice come out of the thing in front of him, he swung at its’ head with all the strength he had, the sound of flesh cutting filled the air before the head landed on the floor with a thud.

His brother dropped to the ground, cast making a dull crack as it hit the ground. Dean coughed a bit before propping himself up on his elbows, looking down at his freshly-freed leg, “Well… that’s one way to get a cast off.”

“Was that what I think it was?” Sam offered his brother a hand.

“Yep. Leviathan you,” Dean stumbled a bit before finding his footing and looking triumphant, “We picked it up at the supermarket.”

“And here I thought you could only get food there.”

The brothers’ turned to see Bobby sitting up, holding a rag to the gash on his head, “Whenever you princesses are done over there, I’ll just wait here… possibly bleeding out.”

Dean rolled his eyes before making his way over to the older man, “Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a bunch. You’re the one who picked him up, remember?”

Bobby shook his head, “You’re not gonna let me live that one down, are ya?”

“Nope.” The blonde swung Bobbys’ one arm across his shoulders before helping him up, moving toward the stairs, “How could you of thought that thing was Sam?”

“Well excuse me. It looked like your brother, talked like your brother, and recognized me, I’ll be sure to test him in front of the cops next time.”

Sam stood over the Leviathans’ body, eyes fixated on the eyes, it looks so real…

“Of course it does,” Lucifer perched himself in the torture chair, following his gaze, “They’re one of the oldest creatures in creation. Dad didn’t feel the need to skimp on their powers.”

Sam kicked the head a bit further away from the body, shifting his body weight from one foot to the other, one hand closing around the flask in his pocket, keeping his voice low, “Do you think he noticed?”

“Your brother?” Lucifer laughed and shook his head, “Not likely. Dean’s not exactly the sharpest crayon in the box. It’ll probably take him a while to notice. Just don’t go disappearing for long stretches of time and leaving a trail of bodies behind like last time and you’ll be fine.”

“Sam?”

The youngests’ head whipped up at the call and he started toward the stairs, “Yeah?”

“Where’s my pie?”


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Stay That Way

This is this years’ Christmas/holiday fic.

On Dec. 14th I will be uploading a New Years fic, and then the last post of the year on the following Monday. (Dec. 17th) I will then take a two week vacation from posting, and will return in January! (I’ll explain more in the post on Dec. 17th)


Wee!Chesters

Words: 2,111


“… What are you doing?”

“Uhm…” Sammy’s eyes went to the ground, cheeks flaring, “nothing.”

“Nothing?” Bobbys’ eyebrows went up, “That’s an awfully loud nothing,” his eyes drifted to the lump under the covers on the bed, “a pretty big lump, too.”

The kid swallowed thickly, eyes darting to the lump before back to the father-figure standing in the doorway, “W-what lump?”

Bobby chuckled, holding up his hands, “Okay, okay. Well you just let me know if you need any help with that nothing.”

“… Okay.”

Bobby re-closed the bedroom door, shaking his head as he made his way down the stairs, what is that boy up to? He went out to the backyard, picking up the paint spray gun and mask, just down burn down the house.

 

 

Bobby awoke startled, hearing a loud crash from the kitchen, what in the hell…? He was out of his chair in an instant, stalking his way over to the kitchen doors, hand on his gun, mentally running through the salt-line check he’d done before falling asleep.

He opened the door and sighed in relief as he saw the five-year old jump up from the floor.

“Jesus, Boy, you almost gave me a heart attack,” he leaned himself against the door, eyes roaming over the flour-covered counter, “Whatcha doing, Sammy?”

The brunette swallowed thickly and ‘hid’ a cookie sheet behind his back, eyes threatening to spill over with tears, “… Nothing,” at the mans’ eyebrow raise he sighed in defeat, bottom lip poking out, “I-I’ll clean it up…”

“Clean up?” Bobby craned his neck a bit so he could see over the counter and noted the un-cooked cookies that littered the floor, “Now why would you do that?”

Sammy blinked in surprise as Bobby got an apron out of the closet, “… What?”

Bobby’s heart broke, John what the hell have you done to this boy? He took the cookie sheet from the child and placed it on the counter, before winking, grabbing the mixing bowl, “We can’t let you destroy the kitchen for nothing.”

 

 

“Wow,” Sammy was practically laying on the counter, watching the cookies cool on a wire rack.

Bobby chuckled as he washed the last of the dishes, “You’d think you’d never seen a cookie before.”

“I’ve seen cookies,” he rolled his eyes, “I just can’t believe I made these!”

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

“I know you helped but still…” he reached out to touch one, recoiling as it burnt his finger, “These look like real cookies. Like the ones you get at a store!” He turned to the older man, “I can’t believe we turned eggs and milk and all that stuff into these! It’s like magic!”

Bobby did his best to hold in his laughter, “Yeah, cooking is pretty cool.”

“Definitely,” he tilted his head a bit to the side, “… can making cookies be a job?”

“Yep,” Bobby leaned against the counter, taking a swig from his beer, “They’re called bakers.”

“Really?” his eyes went wide and he gave a thousand-watt smile, “That’s so cool! Do you think…” he bit his lip and averted his eyes, smile fading, “Do you think I could do that?”

“’Course.”

“But won’t Dad-”

“It doesn’t matter what John says,” he narrowly stopped himself from hitting the counter, “I mean,” he took a deep breath, “you should do whatever you want to do. Don’t worry if John doesn’t understand. Do what makes you happy.”

Sammy nodded before turning back to the cookies, “I want to make these every day!”

Bobby smiled, going over to ruffle his hair, “Then you do that.”

Just then, the boys heard a rumble from outside, the Impala.

Sammys’ face lit up again and he practically jumped off the counter, running to the front door, “They’re back!”

The brunette sped to the front hall before – much to Bobbys’ surprise – bee lining for the stairs, bedroom door slamming shut. Bobby looked after him for a moment before shaking his head as the front door opened, John bursting in, Dean in his arms.

That can’t be good, Bobby went to the kitchen, fetching the first aid kit, coming back as John placed Dean down on the couch. His face was set in a scowl, and he was covered head to toe in a mix of dirt and blood. Dean had a deep gash across his head that was oozing blood, glad Sammy decided to go upstairs.

“What happened?”

John shook his head, “He didn’t want to list-”

“John,” Bobby shot him a look as he pushed him away, kneeling down and beginning to clean the boys’ wound.

John let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he began pacing, eyes on the ground, “I told him not to go after it.”

“That’s great,” Bobby pushed the gauze harder against the wound, not liking that Dean didn’t even flinch, “What else?”

“What does it look like?” Johns’ hands balled into fists at his side, “The thing flung him halfway across the room, he only stopped cause he hit a wall. Head collided with the corner of a table on the way down.”

Bobby closed his eyes and grit his teeth, “He needs to go to the hospital.”

“No.”

“John-”

“I said no!”

“Do you want him to die?” Bobby stood, turning angry eyes on the other man, “Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if he stays here.”

John blinked in mild surprise, “You can’t stitch it?”

“He’s unconscious.”

John took a step toward him, getting close enough Bobby could smell the whisky on his breath, “Can. You. Stitch. It?”

Bobby used all the strength he had to not punch him in the face, “No.”

“Fuck,” John blew out a breath, eyeing his son, taking a small step back, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Go to the hospital.”

“We can’t.”

“Why?”

“I’m still wanted for that skin-walker job, remember?”

Bobby grit his teeth, closing his eyes for a moment to think, “Fine. I’ll take him, you stay here with Sammy.”

John paled a bit at the mention of his other son but nodded. He watched as Bobby picked Dean up off the couch, helping to load him into the truck. Bobby hopped in before giving John a death glare, “Do not tell him about this.”




 

“Seriously, Bobby, I’m fine,” Dean swatted at his arm as he was easing himself out of the truck.

“Oh yeah, you pass out from blood loss and get a concussion every day,” the older man gave him a pointed look and kept his arms out for support.

“Pfft, you know what hunting’s like,” Dean successfully stood on the ground, and blinked, swaying slightly on the spot, “It’s always dangerous.”

“You’re not your father, Dean,” Bobby shut the truck door and trailed behind the blonde as they made their way to the front door, “also, you’re nine.”

“Exactly,” He climbed the steps, leaning heavily against the banister, “Time for me to grow up.”

Bobby rolled his eyes and unlocked the door, holding it open for the blonde, not surprised to see John was no longer in the living room, big surprise.

“Dean!”

A mess of brown hair launched itself at the blonde, nearly knocking him over. He caught Sammy easily, plastering a smile on his face, but Bobby didn’t miss the flash of dizziness.

“Wha-? Who’s this?” he brushed some of the hair from his brothers’ eyes, “Oh, Sammy! There you are!”

The youngest giggled and Bobby was amazed at how quickly the elder could switch into Big Brother Mode. He began walking them over to the couch, “So, Sammy, what have you been up to?”

The youngest looked like he was going to explode, “I made you something!” his expression fell as he noticed the bandage on the blondes’ head, “What happened?”

“Eh,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “I’m fine. What did you make me? Is it…” he looked around the room, pretending to think, “A Tickle Monster?” he then threw the five-year-old onto the couch before all but tackling him, tickling his stomach.

The youngest let out a loud squeal, doing his best to wiggle away. John came out of the kitchen at the yell, and Bobby was mildly surprised to see he had showered. He hung back as he saw what was happening. The eldest Winchester leaned against the doorway next to Bobby, small smile on his face.

Sammy began gasping for breath after a few minutes, face going red.

“Dean.”

At the sound of his fathers’ voice, Dean immediately stopped, smile fading and he practically jumped up from the couch, puffing his chest out. A soldier ready for duty. Sammys’ gasps had also died down, eyes going straight to the floor, as if he were ashamed.

“Sammy,” Bobby nodded toward the kitchen, “why don’t you go get what you made Dean?”

He nodded, smile reappearing before zooming back up the stairs.

Dean turned confused eyes to the other men, “What is it?”

Bobby shrugged, “Last time I saw it, it was a giant lump under the covers.”

A small smile graced Deans’ face, and his cheeks flushed.

They saw the youngest stop at the top of the stairs, whatever it was carefully hidden behind his back, “Close your eyes!”

Dean rolled his eyes before closing them, “Okay! They’re closed!”

“I don’t believe you!”

Dean huffed, before opening them, giving Bobby and his father a look, “Little help?”

Bobby smirked, giving him a pointed look, “Well?” the blonde re-closed his eyes, “They’re closed, Sammy!”

The men watched as the youngest did his best to walk down the stairs without holding onto the hand rail. Whatever he made was big enough it needed his two hands to carry. He got to the bottom and carefully walked himself over, bringing the gift – that was carefully wrapped in red and white Christmas paper – out from behind his back.

“Hold out your hands,” upon doing so he placed the present in them, and chuckled as Deans’ arms fell a few inches, pretending it was heavy, “Okay, open.”

The blonde opened his eyes and let out a whistle, “You wrapped this?”

“Mhm,” Sammy was beaming, bouncing slightly where he stood, “Open it! Open it! Open it!”

“Okay, okay, geez,” Dean made his way back over to the couch, placing the present down on the coffee table.

He began unwrapping it slowly, brows knit together wondering what could be so heavy, before revealing a cardboard box.

He turned to his brother, “Wow, Sammy, it’s uhm…”

The youngest rolled his eyes, giving his brother a slight push, “It’s in the box, Dean.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.”

The blonde took his switch blade off his belt to open the box, prying the top open and peering inside, before letting out a small gasp. He reached into the box carefully, pulling out what looked to be a Lego version of their fathers’ Impala.

He turned his eyes to his brother, “What…? How did you…?”

“I built it!” Sammy was bouncing up and down, “I took all the black Legos I had from my other sets and built it,” he flung his arms around his brother, “Now you have one, too!”

“I can’t believe this…” Deans’ eyes drifted back down to the present he was holding, face stunned, “This is… amazing, thank-you.”

“Is that what you were doing up in your room all week?”

The youngest gave Bobby a nod before turning back to his brother, “You like it?”

“I love it,” Dean held the car up to his face, inspecting it, “You even got the license plate right!”

“Good job, Sammy,” Bobby went to sit on the arm of the couch, “Now that kitchen mess makes more sense.”

“Oh!” Sammy smacked his head, before running into the kitchen, “I forgot the best part!”

Dean starred after him, “There’s more?”

Bobby winked, “I helped with this part.”

The youngest returned a moment later with the cookies he and Bobby had made, placing the plate down on the table next to the car.

Dean looked over the cookies and chuckled, “Are these supposed to be us?”

Sammy nodded his head excitedly before removing one of the door Legos from the side of the car, placing one of the cookies into the driver side, “Look! They fit inside, too!”

“Wow, Sammy, that’s so cool!” Dean wrapped his brother up in a bear hug, “You’re one smart kid, y’know that?”

“I know!”

“This is great, Sammy,” he turned his eyes to the plate of cookies, eyes widening slightly, “I just have one question.”

“What?”

His stomach grumbled then, as if on cue, “Does that mean I can’t eat the cookies?”


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Chicken

Written: 18.09.28-18.10.05

Words: 1,486

Gen., Human!Cas


“You have to have pie!” Cas grabbed the cashier by the collar, nearly pulling him over the counter.

“I-I’m sorry, Sir,” the cashiers’ voice shook, “This close to Thanksgiving nobody has any left.”

“I need pie!” Cas’ grip tightened around the collar, cashiers’ eyes going wide in fright.

The teen swallowed thickly, eyes darting around, “Y-You could always make one.”

Make one? Cas thought for a moment, could I make one? He turned narrowed eyes back to the teen, “How?”

“There’s pie filling in Aisle Two,” at the continued stare, the cashier pointed behind them, “I-I’m not sure if we still have pie shells, though.”

Cas’ grip tightened more, “I can’t just serve them pie filling!” he hesitated for a moment, “… Could I?”

“If you wanted to.”

The raven-haired man dropped the cashier against the desk, breathlessly, bee-lining for the aforementioned aisle. Pie filling… pie filling… where is-ah! Cas’ eyes widened at all the different cans, blueberry, cherry, pumpkin, apple? Why are there so many?

He turned angry eyes to the cashier, “Why are there so many?”

The cahsiers’ eyebrows knit together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Cas huffed in annoyance, “Which one do I pick?”

The cashier shrugged, taking a few steps toward the backroom, “Whichever flavour you like.”

I don’t know which flavour’s his favourite… he glanced at the clock on the back wall, and I’m running out of time! He swiped his arm across the shelf, knocking all the cans into his basket, I’ll just get all of them.

Okay, he threw the grocery bag down on the counter with a huff, starring into it with a mounting panic, what do I make first? He eyed the pie filling and the pie crusts, does pie take longer? He began lining all the cans out on the counter, starring over the flavours, I’ll start with these so I have time to perfect them for Dean. He grabbed one of the cans, placing it inside one of the shells, looking confused, that’s not how the picture looks… He picked the can up to inspect it. Upon shaking it, he heard a squishing, cheeks going red at his embarrassment even though he was alone, of course… it’s inside the can! He pulled a knife from a drawer, stabbing the top of the can – frowning when it didn’t open. He tapped the knife on the lid of the can again, sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air, how the hell…?

His eyes drifted slightly downward, toward the paper on the middle, he smirked as he turned the can on its’ side, taking the knife to the paper. The paper fell away from the can in a few slices, only to reveal more metal underneath, much to Cas’ dismay. The whole can is metal?

Huffing in rage, he grasped the can firmly in one hand and began sawing into it with the knife, using all the strength he could muster, “I… don’t…have…time…for…this.”




The Winchester brothers’ made their way through the bunker door, ears perking at the struggling noises coming from inside. Dean wiped blood from his eye as he nodded to his brother, the pair separating with their guns drawn, preparing to sweep the bunker. Fresh from a hunt, they were both still on high alert for any threats – even on Thanksgiving they didn’t get a break.

They moved into the hallway, where the grunting noises were getting louder. They stopped on either side of the kitchen doorway. Sam looked to his brother, holding his breath. At his brothers’ nod, they entered the room, raising their guns and startling the ex-angel.

“Cas?”

They lowered their weapons as they saw the kitchen island, full of food. There were about ten pies lining the kitchen island, used as a make-shift boarder around different dishes holding vegetables, and a giant hole, assumed to be the place for the bird in the ex-angels’ arms.

Cas put the roasting pan on the table, giant smile splitting his face, what’s on his face? before he threw his hands up in the air like an over-excited five year old, “Happy Thanksgiving!”

“Cas,” Deans’ voice was careful, hand out like he wasn’t sure what to expect, “What uh, what is all this?”

“I made you Thanksgiving dinner!” The raven-haired man took the oven-mitts off and untied his apron, gesturing to the stools set at the island.

The brothers’ shared a look as they approached the island cautiously. Sam took a stool, eyes roaming over the holiday spread, “Why uh… what made you decide to cook?”

“I thought you could use a good holiday memory,” he smiled as he handed each of them a beer, “y’know, instead of having somebody die.”

Dean snorted, taking a seat only when the youngest shot him a look, “Well it, uh, smells… great.”

Sams’ stomach grumbled almost as if on cue, cheeks going red as he looked over the table with a small smile, “What would you recommend we start with?”

Cas gestured to the bird in the middle of the table, “The main event, of course.”

Dean looked skeptical – it’s still pink for Christ sake –  but made his way around the other side of the island to grab the carving knife. He tilted his head to one side as he eyed it, “This looks pretty small for a turkey… how many pounds was it?”

“It didn’t say.” At the brothers’ look, he went to the garbage, pulling the container out, “See?”

Dean snorted again, shaking his head as he read the container, “Cas… this is a chicken not a turkey.”

“… Oh.”

“I’m sure it still tastes great,” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, who was clearly trying to keep his laughter in.

“Yeah, I bet-” Dean cut himself off as he pushed the knife into the bird, being met with semi-frozen resistance, it’s not even cooked.

Dean looked up at the two men from the bird, boulder of guilt settling into his stomach as he took in the ex-angels’ fallen face, he looks like someone kicked his puppy.

“Dean?”

Not usually one to spare someones’ feelings, Dean shook his head, “Nothing, I’m sure it’s great.”

He used as much force as he could to dig into the semi-frozen bird, doing his best to keep a straight face as he placed the piece onto a plate.

“Here ya go, Sammy. First piece,” he handed the plate to his brother, praying he didn’t need to cut another.

Sam eyed his brother but accepted the plate. He took his knife to it, instantly realizing it was frozen, he opened his mouth before catching the look his brother was giving him. Reluctantly, Sam popped a piece of frozen bird into his mouth.

Cas’ face lit up slightly, “How is it?”

Sam moaned around the piece, nodding his head, “So…” he turned away slightly, doing his best to not spit it out, “so, good,” he gestured to Dean, “You should try it.”

“Nice try Sammy,” the blonde pushed the roasting pan slightly away from him, pulling over one of the pies, “You know I like my dessert first.”

Deans’ eyes caught the paintbrush sitting on the edge of the island, he… painted the pies? He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, as he starred at the pie he pulled over, why would you paint it? Sighing, he plunged his fork into the middle, suppressing his cringe as the crust bent easily under the force, didn’t we show you how to use the oven?

“So, Cas,” Sam thankfully piped up, “Why did you make so many pies, anyway?”

The raven-haired mans’ cheeks flared red, and he adverted his eyes to the ground, “Well… I didn’t know which would be your favourite… so I bought all of them.”

Of course you did, Dean closed his eyes, boulder in his stomach growing. He slightly shook his head as he tried to cut raw dough with his fork, doing his best to make it look like he wasn’t struggling.

“Wow, Cas that’s… that’s really nice, thank-you.”

“Of course, you’re family.”

Damn it, Dean felt a tug at his heart strings, finally ripping the dough enough with his fork to get a piece, “Yeah, Cas, that’s… not necessary.”

He popped it into his mouth, fighting off his gag reflex. He chewed it, teeth clenching at the doughy texture, I can’t believe he actually ruined pie… The blonde swallowed it down, body shuddering as it made it’s way down.

“I can’t wait till next year!”

Dean nearly choked on his pie.

Cas’ face lit up with an ear-splitting grin, looking between the brothers’, “Yeah! I can cook while you two are out hunting.”

The brothers’ exchanged a look, before Dean shook his head, “I don’t think so, buddy.”

Cas’ face fell slightly, “But… why?”

“Cause next year?” Dean took another forkful of pie, slingshotting it at the ex-angel, “I’m cooking.”


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Project: Soak

Written: 18.09.06

Words: 1,207

Gen.


“Cas, duck!” Dean spun around, firing off a shot in the space the angels’ head had just occupied.

The blonde dropped to his knees behind the rock, reloading, man, they are relentless!

Cas crouch-ran over to where the hunter was, “We’re surrounded!”

“You think I don’t know that?” Dean craned his neck to look around the rock, pulling back as a shot was fired in his direction, he scanned the half of the park that was behind them, why are parks always so open?

He saw a lone tree a few feet away from them, is it big enough to hide both of us? He turned to Cas, who was hiding completely behind the rock, head between his knees, gun laying on the ground next to him.

Why do I bother? The blonde shook his head and tapped him, pointing, “See that tree? We’re gonna run to it. Think you can manage?”

Cas starred blankly at the tree for a second before nodding, “We’ll fit there.”

In the next instant, the two men were behind the tree. Dean blinked, head spinning from the sudden movement before turning to Cas, bewildered and slightly queasy, “You can still teleport?”

The angel looked at the hunter like he was stupid, “Of course.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Do you know how useful that would’ve been-” he cut himself off, shaking his head, “You know what? It doesn’t matter.”

Dean peered around the trunk, noting the two men were still heading toward the rock they were just behind. Good, maybe now we’ll have a bit of time to- “Cas!” Dean knocked the gun from the angels’ hand, “What the hells’ wrong with you?”

“What?” Cas frowned, looking like a child, “You gave me the gun!”

“You weren’t supposed to shoot from here. You just gave away our position,” The blonde checked around the trunk again and, of fucking course, the two men were running full speed toward them.

“Can you teleport us out of here?”

At the lack of response the blonde turned to the man on his right, you’ve gotten be kidding, “A butterfly? Really, Cas?”

The angel held up his finger in triumph, “They’re endangered, Dean.”

“Yeah, I know they’re-” Dean huffed, chancing another look around tree, mentally cursing as the two men were nowhere in sight. He turned back to the angel, “Can you teleport us out of here?”

The angel turned surprised eyes to the hunter, did he forget I was here? He sighed before gently blowing the butterfly off his finger, “Wouldn’t that be cheating? You said not to use my powers.”

Dean rolled his eyes, “Now you listen? Okay, look,” he checked around the tree, men still nowhere in sight, “it’s not cheating if we don’t have any other options. And since we’re cornered-” a shot hit the tree, nearly hitting Dean in the head. He let out a whistle and shot back, “anytime you’re ready, Princess.”

Cas’ brows furrowed for a moment before he sighed, placing his hand on the hunters’ shoulder.

Deans’ knees buckled against the ground as they landed. He looked around, no longer hearing the sounds of the park, home? He sighed and turned to the angel, “Damn it, Cas!”

“You’re welcome,” the angel slipped his trench-coat off on his way to the kitchen.

“Cas,” Dean rolled his eyes, following suit, “You weren’t supposed to take us out of the park – just out from behind that tree. To a better vantage point,” Dean went over to the fridge, inspecting its contents, “You just made us lose.”

The angel let out a sigh, “I don’t understand that game.”

Dean shook his head as he began pulling things from the fridge, of course you don’t, “Me and Sammy used to play all the time when we were kids. We finally had a day off, I figured we could both use something distracting.”

“But…” the angel chewed his lip a second, tilting his head to the side slightly, “you shoot to kill all the time, how would play shooting your brother be a distraction?”

“It was fun, Cas,” He closed the fridge and moved to the island where the angel was sitting, “Y’know, fun? You’ve had to of heard of it in all the hundreds of years you’ve been around humans.”

“…It wasn’t fun,” He picked at a chip in the table, “You were being mean.”

Dean sighed, exacerbated, “I wouldn’t of been so mean if you’d just-”

“You guys left mid game so you could cook?” Gabriels’ voice made both parties jump and turn to the doorway.

“We left because we wanted to leave you two with some of your dignity,” Dean began chopping vegetables, “I mean, you were losing against Cas.”

“Pfft, please,” Sam plopped down at the island next to the angel, “We were kicking your asses.”

“Whatever lets you sleep at night, Sammy,” the blonde turned to the stove, grabbing a pot and throwing the veggies in.

The giant rolled his eyes before running them over the ingredients displayed on the counter, “You’re making Pasgetti?”

Dean twirled back around to the island, nodding proudly, “Best meal after any hunt.”

Cas looked between the two, obviously confused, “But you weren’t-”

“Just go with it, Cas,” Gabriel took the last seat at the island, “It’s good.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at the other angel, “How would you know?”

“Pfft, please, who do you think taught her the recipe?”

The Winchesters’ jaws dropped and they both turned to the angel in unison, “What?”

Gabriel smirked, “Oh yeah, me and your mom go way back.”

“You son of a bitch, if you ever-”

“Relax, Dean-o, I don’t mean that. We were friends for a long time. Tried teaching her all kinds of recipes, but, well…,” he looked between the two humans before shrugging, “Some people just can’t cook.”

Dean eyed the angel, “You’re lying.”

Gabriel held up his hands in mock defence, “Believe me or don’t, either way, I’m the reason you two exist at all so…”

“Okay, now I know you’re definitely lying,” Dean turned back to the stove, angrily stirring the pot.

“Oh c’mon, you two already know your parents’ being together was part of heavens’ Almighty Showdown. Who do you think convinced Mary to go on a second date with the Neanderthal mechanic?”

“He’s right,” Cas didn’t bother to look up from the chip he was digging at, “Dad made sure an archangel was sent to watch over them, since it was such an important task, and we all know Michael and Lucifer couldn’t be trusted…”

The brothers’ shared a disbelieving look before Dean smirked, “You taught Mom the recipe?”

Gabriel nodded proudly, “Yep. I must’ve made it with her over a hundred times. She couldn’t quite match the awesomeness of the original, obviously.”

Dean nodded, “Okay, so… you wouldn’t want any of this then, since it’s not as good?”

Gabriel stopped himself mid-mod, mouth opening slightly in shock, “W-well, I-” his eyes narrowed at the hunters’ smirk, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Oh no?” Dean half-turned from the pot.

“Of course not,” Gabriel touched a finger to the pack of spaghetti on the island, winking at the other two men as it disappeared, “Kicking your ass really works up an appetite.”


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Face to Face

Inspired by the lyric: He’s not the only one who had a secret to hide – left the secret at the grave (Carrie Underwood – Two Black Cadillacs)

Words: 988

Started: 17.07.20

Finished: 18.08.22

Sabriel, Destiel


“Oh my God.”

“I had to,” Cas’ voice came from somewhere behind him.

Dean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the burnt remains of wings that were spread across the floor, what did you do?

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t know what else to do.”

The blonde closed his eyes and took in a breath, his heart breaking at the pain in the angel’s voice, “It-it’s okay, Cas.”

“He didn’t give me a choice.”

“Cas, it’s okay,” Dean swallowed thickly as his eyes landed on the face of the body, “You don’t have to explain.”

“I didn’t-”

“Cas,” he turned to face the angel, hoping he was doing a better job of masking how freaked out he was than he felt, “let’s just get you home.”

“But Dean-”

“Cas, it’s fine,” he closed the small distance between them and pressed a kiss to his lips, “Trust me, okay?”

Cas gave a sheepish nod before allowing himself to be pulled towards the exit, “What are we gonna do?”

Dean let out a breath as he held the door open, “I have no friggin’ idea.”

“Hey, what took you guys-” Sam’s question died on his lips as he took in the expression on Cas’ face, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Dean came through the door, keeping a guiding hand on Cas’ back as he stood there, eyes not leaving the ground.

“Are you sure?”

Dean held up a hand and shook his head. Sam nodded and shut up, confused eyes not leaving his brother.

Dean rubbed the raven-haired man’s shoulder a bit, “why don’t you go lay down for a while? I’ll come in to check on you in a bit, okay?”

The angel nodded meekly and headed off to his room, eyes not leaving the ground as he passed the younger hunter. Dean starred after him until he heard the door to his bedroom close, then he returned his gaze to his brother.

“Dean, what the hell happened?”

Dean gave his brother a once over, feeling a boulder settle into his stomach, how in the hell am I supposed to tell you?

Sam took a step closer, noticing the look in his brothers’ eye, “are you okay? Did something happen?”

You’d never forgive him…

“Dean?”

“He…” the blonde swallowed thickly, feeling the boulder grow, maybe you don’t have to know all of it, “he killed an angel.”

Sam’s eyebrows disappeared into his hair, “he what? How did… what do you – What happened?”

The elder let out a sigh and made his way to the couch, “I don’t know.”

“What?” he followed his brother, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean, I don’t know,” he flopped down on the couch and closed his eyes, “I walked in after whatever happened, happened and just saw him standing there.” Over his body.

“He didn’t say anything to you?”

“No, Sam, he just stood there looking guilty as hell.”

The younger brother – thankfully – went quiet for a moment. He pulled a stool over to sit in front of the couch, running a hand through his hair. Dean sighed in slight relief, no more questions, please.

“A-are you sure it was an angel?”

Dean held back a snort, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure.”

“Well, maybe… Maybe it wasn’t. It could’ve been someone else.”

“It was an angel, Sammy,” Dean ran a hand down his face, leave it alone, Sam.

“How do you know?”

“Just…” He got up, how the hell am I supposed to tell you? “trust me, I know what a dead angel looks like.”

“It could’ve just been a vessel, or maybe-”

“It was one we knew! Alright?” Dean blinked as the words left his mouth, eyes going wide, shit-shit-shit-shit.

“One we knew?” Sams’ eyebrows knit together, “Who was it?”

“Sam…”

“Dean.”

The blonde rubbed a hand at the back of his neck in nervousness, swallowing thickly, forgive me.

Sam let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair, “Fine, if you won’t tell me who… can you at least tell me why?”

“All he said was that he had to do it.”

“I just…,” Sams’ eyes focused on the hall where Cas disappeared, “I can’t believe he killed an angel and wouldn’t tell us what happened.”

“Yeah, well, he probably,” Dean got up, “he probably just doesn’t know how to explain it. We both know what it’s like to kill someone we didn’t want. It’s messy.” He watched the gears in his brothers’ head turning, don’t over think it. “I should go check on him.”

Sam nodded, still clearly distracted trying to work out what happened, “Yeah, okay.”

Dean eyed his brother, “Maybe you outta head home?”

Sam blinked, coming out of whatever scenario he was imagining and finally looked at his brother, “What?”

“Look man, I’m not gonna lie, you look like shit,” at the snort he continued, “That hunt wiped both of us out. I was just gonna crash anyway, no point in you sticking around if we’re both sleeping.” Please, take the hint and leave.

Sam stood, stretching his back out a bit and stifling a yawn, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He checked his watch, eyes widening, “2:30am? Gabriels’ gotta be worried sick.” Sam started toward the front door, turning around in the doorway, “You’re sure you won’t need me?”

Dean nodded, leaning against the door, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Besides, I don’t wanna take care of two babies tonight.”

Sam chuckled and nodded, “Alright, fine. Night.”

“Night,” the blonde closed the door, leaning against it while he breathed out a sigh, shit. He slid down the door, resting his head against it, I’m sorry, Sammy.

“Dean?”

His head whipped up in the direction of the bedroom, “Y-yeah, Cas,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be right there.”

He got up and headed for the hall, scrubbing a hand down his face as he switched gears, he’ll piece it together when he gets home.


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Room 739

Based on Tumblr post, ‘I’m at a hotel and the people in the room next to me started having sex and I timed it and he only lasted 54 seconds and I think they can hear me laughing. UPDATE: They just banged on the wall and it only made me laugh harder b/c you can bang a wall but not your gf?  from Tumblr user Neurochemical

Neurochemicals Tumblr has been deactivated. (If you know if they have a new one, let me know and I’ll link it)

General Slash (Destiel/Sabriel)

Written: 18.03.27

Finished: 18.05.17

Words: 862


“Dude!” Gabriel jumped up off the couch, cutting off what Cas was saying, pressing his ear to the wall, grin slowly appearing on his face, “guess who’s back from their date?”

“Ew, Gabe,” Sam pulled a face and waved a dismissive hand at him, “Can’t we get back to playing?”

“C’mon Sammich, we’ve been playing poker for like four hours!” Even half-smushed against a wall, he still managed to whine like a child.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to know how this ends,” Dean winked at his brother before placing his cards on the table, poising his hand at his watch, turning to Gabriel, “Now?”

“Gabriel, Sam’s right. We shouldn’t be-”

“Now!” The brunette cut his brother off, pointing to the eldest Winchester.

They all fell quiet, listening to the intense banging coming from their hotel neighbours. Sam rolled his eyes and got up from the table. This wasn’t what he pictured when Gabriel had invited him on a romantic get away. For one, Dean and Cas came, which, wasn’t completely surprising, Sam just thought he’d get some… alone time with his boyfriend.

But, they had been stuck in the room practically all week – the weather turned as soon as they checked in – apparently a tornado warning had been issued when they were in the sky. The hotel was too paranoid to let the guests try to leave, spewing something about ‘it’s safer in your rooms’, Sam snorted at that, safer in a high-rise?

For such a fancy hotel, there wasn’t all that much to do. Not like any of them had really packed any board games, either – if he knew they would be stuck inside for seven days straight, he would’ve packed something other then a bathing suit.

And condoms. Don’t forget the condoms, Sammich.

He rolled his eyes at the interruption, yes, of course, and those. The giant starred out the sliding glass door, it doesn’t even look that cloudy…

This newest game wasn’t even that good. They discovered early on that they were sharing the wall with newly-weds. Which again, wouldn’t have been so bad, except that they have sex.

A lot.

They couldn’t go more then an hour without doing it. They didn’t even slow down when the tornado warning was issued – the warning actually seemed to make them go at it more frequently. I guess if they think they might die… Gabriel and Dean had concocted the game out of sheer boredom one night – we can hear through the wall anyway, Sammich – they all bet on how long the guy would last. Sam didn’t know what was wrong with him, aside from the obvious, but the banging on the wall – and thus, their sessions – had been getting increasingly shorter. Last session they had was somewhere under five minutes. You’d think if he could only last that long, they wouldn’t be doing it so often – like they’d be running out of steam – not so. They kept going at it with just as much intensity as when they’d started. They should at least take a water break, or, y’know eat something.

Sam came back to the table as the banging stopped, turning to his brother who was grinning like an idiot, “Well?”

Gabriel was practically in his lap, trying to look at the time on the watch.

“Fifty-four seconds.”

There was a moment of silence before the four of them burst into hysterical laughter.

“W-what?” Gabriel was practically on the floor, wiping tears from his eyes, “F-fifty four…?”

Sam looked to the wall, dude…

“…Are you sure you timed it right?”

Dean threw the watch on the table for all to see, almost unable to contain his laughter, “Less then a minute…” he shook his head, “dude, know when to quit.”

A loud banging on the wall made them all stop, heads snapping up to face it.

Hey!”

Sam looked to the group, eyes wide, “he heard us laughing?”

Another bang came through the wall, “What’s so funny over there?”

“He sounds pissed… maybe we should apologize?”

“We’re not gonna apologize, Cas. It’s not our fault he’s bad in bed.”

“H-he can bang the wall,” Gabriels’ lips twitched as he tried to hold back his laughter, “but not his girlfriend?”

The four of them erupted into another laughing fit, the continued banging on the wall only making them laugh harder.

“Don’t make me come over there!”

Gabriels’ face was red, tears streaming down his face, “O-oh yeah, we’re so scared Mr. Fifty-Four Seconds!”

“That’s it!”

They heard one final slam on the wall before it went quiet.

Sam swallowed thickly, “You guys don’t think that he’d actually-”

A bang on the door was all the answer he needed. The four of them starred at it, eyes wide.

“What the hell do we do now?”

“What do you mean ‘what do we do now’? It’s not like we gotta let him in.”

“We can’t just leave him out there pounding on the door.”

Gabriel shot up out of his seat, eyes sparkling, practically tip-toeing to the door, putting the chain on.

“What’re you…?”

He made his way back to the table with a smirk, “He could use the practice.”


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