Tag Archives: Supernatural

I’ll Wreck This If I Have To




Started: 16.11.11

Finished: 19.07.18

Words: 4,273

Gen., Wee!Chester, Destiel (implied)


“Rachel smells bad.”

“Dean,” Cas craned his neck to see the page, “that’s not what it says.”

“No, it is, I swear!” Dean held the book up out of view with a chuckle.

“But who’s Rachel?”

Dean blinked and jumped back off the bed, after realizing he was snuggled against the angel. What the hell?

Cas’ brow furrowed in concern, “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, baby, everything’s fine,” the blonde took a step back toward the bed, expression softening.

Whoa, he stopped mid-stride and shook his head, baby? Since when do I call him baby?

Cas wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, trying to swallow down his fear, “Dean?”

“Yeah?” He turned his gaze back to the man on the bed, wait… “Cas, why are we in bed?”

“… Because we always sleep like that?” Cas got off the bed, coming around to stand in front of his boyfriend.

The blonde rubbed at his temples, and looked around the room, this place is pretty nice,  “… Why aren’t we in a motel?”

“Motel?”

Dean moved toward the bedroom door, “Where the hell’s Sam?”

“Sam’s across the street, with Gabriel, where they always are…,” Cas stared at him, tilting his head to one side, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Damn he’s cute when he does that. “Hey!” Dean spun around, eyes darting around the room, “I didn’t think that!”

Cas took a nervous step back, “Didn’t think what?”

“I do not think you’re cute.”

The hurt expression on the angel’s face made him feel a stab of guilt, “Damn, Cas, no, that’s not what I meant. Come here,” the blonde outstretched his arms and took a step toward the raven-haired man.

“Dean…,” Cas took another step backward and avoided his eyes, “are you… have you started drinking again?”

Dean blinked at the accusation and shook his head, “Cas-”

“Don’t lie to me,” the shorter man sniffed and turned away from his boyfriend, hiding his tears.

Dean closed his eyes and took a deep breath, it’s not right to keep this from him… He opened his eyes and looked around widely, what the fuck?

“Cas, what’s going on?”

“I knew it,” Cas wiped at his eyes before he slid the comforter off the bed and threw it at the stunned man.

“Cas? What’re you doing?”

“Maybe a night on the couch will jog your memory,” he strode over and opened the bedroom door, pointing out into the hall, face hard.

“Cas-”

“Go.”

“Cas, please, help me out. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“De-an!” A sing-song voice called from behind the pair.

Dean turned around to see Cas standing a few feet away from him, wearing an unbuttoned shirt and shorts, standing just in front of an ocean. What the fuck? Dean turned back to where the first Cas was, and was surprised to see it was no longer a bedroom, but instead a beach. How the hell…? He walked forward a few steps, eyes scanning the surrounding area, half hoping he’d see the bedroom somewhere.

“Dean?”

He turned back to the smaller man, fighting over which question he should ask first, “Cas, where are we?”

“We’re on vacation silly,” Cas wrapped his arms around his neck and pecked him on the lips.

The blonde wrapped his arms around the shorter man’s waist and pulled his body closer.

Whoa! Dean jumped backward, eyes wide with shock, how is this happening?

“Who’s doing that?”

Cas tilted his head to one side, confused, “Are you alright?”

“What happened to the bedroom?”

“Bedroom?” The raven-haired man gave him a once over, “you could at least buy me dinner first.”

“No,” Dean shook his head, what is happening to me? “I mean, how’d we get here?”

“Ah,” he chuckled before looping his arm around the blonde’s, pulling him closer to the water, “well… I just needed a pie shell, but I ended up taking you home instead.”

“Took me…what?”

“Oh c’mon,” he laughed and rested his head against the taller man’s arm, “I know you don’t remember the details, but you have to remember that part.”

“Of course I remember, I just like the way you tell it,” the blonde smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

What the hell am I doing? Dean straightened and scanned the beach again, unsure of what he was looking for, what is going on?

“Dean, are you alright?”

“Don’t you remember the conversation we were just having?”

Cas’ brows furrowed in confusion, “we were talking about signing up for a surf class.”

“No, we were…” his protest died on his lips, not sure what he’d accomplish by arguing. How does he not remember? He took a few steps away, maybe this isn’t Cas… “You needed a pie shell?”

“Yeah… for Home Ec., one of the assignments was to make a pie.”

“Home Ec?” Dean backed up further, instinctively reaching to his hip for his gun, “Since when do angels go to high school?”

“Angel?”

“Yeah,” he silently cursed as he felt he was wearing swim shorts, “I mean, I knew you guys had to go through training, but I didn’t think cooking would be a priority.”

Cas took a small step toward him, “Training? What are you talking about?”

Definitely not Cas, shit, “What? Did they scrub your brain again? Or have you been here so long you actually forgot about headquarters?”

“I think you’ve got too much sun,” Cas was beside him, guiding him back toward the resort in a matter of seconds, “how about we go lie down for a while?”

“No,” he wretched himself out of the shorter man’s grip and backed up a few feet, “so you’re not an angel?”

Cas ran a hand through his hair and looked around the beach, “Of course not, angels aren’t real.”

“What the hell do you mean angels aren’t real?”

“Will you keep your voice down?” he felt a hand slap over his mouth, “Do you want to give the whole nest our location?”

He blinked and saw Cas – or someone who looked a hell of a lot like the Cas he knew – inches away from his face, furious.

“C’s?”

He took his hand off the Winchesters’ mouth but continued to glare at him, “The Alpha should be upstairs in one of the back bedrooms. That is, if you didn’t just give away our ambush plan.”

What the…? Feeling his hunter instincts kick in – although he was still confused – he followed the man up the stairs, “Cas,” he kept his voice low as they approached one of the doors, “What are we doing?”

The raven-haired man rolled his eyes at the hunter, “Going after the Alpha Vamp.” At the blank stare, he blinked at the hunter, moving closer, “Maybe you did hit your head harder then I thought.” He touched two fingers to the blondes’ forehead before shaking his head, “You should be fine,” he stared into the hunters’ eyes, face serious, “You do remember how to hunt, right?”

“Of course I know how to hunt.” Dean huffed, how can I explain without sounding crazy? “Something… weird is going on, Cas. I- shit, I don’t even know how to explain it.”

Cas nodded before slowly reaching for the doorknob, “I’ll examine you in more depth after we kill the Alpha.”

Maybe it’s some sort of curse… he pulled the machete out of his jacket, hand white-knuckling around the handle, or African Dream Root. That would explain all the… scene changes.

“De?”

The blonde sighed and turned to his left, surprised to see a five-year-old, who looked oddly like Sam did when he was younger. He looked around, not that surprised to see the scene had changed yet again, and he was now in a dingy motel room, at least this is familiar.

He strode over to the bed the child was on, “Where’re your parents, Bud?”

The brunette tilted his head to one side, bangs falling into his eyes, “… Dad’s working.”

Shoulda seen that coming, he sat on the edge of the bed, doing his best to keep calm, “Okay… what’s your name?”

This caused the 5-year-old to squeal with laughter, flopping backwards against the pillows, “It’s me, De! Told you you wouldn’t rec’nize me!”

Definitely gotta be Dream Root, “… Sammy?”

The kid nodded, smiling a big, toothy grin at the blonde, and he noted the missing front tooth. Sammy reached under his pillow and pulled the tooth out, holding it out for the blonde to inspect.

This is too weird. I don’t think I’ve dreamt about Sam this young since… ever. Dean took the tooth and blew out a whistle, “This came out of you? No way.”

Sammy giggled again, snatching the tooth back from his brother, satisfied smile on his face, “Told you it was loose!”

“Okay, smarty-pants,” Dean chuckled, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck, how am I gonna wake up? “Whaddya say we get you to sleep now?”

Sam poked out his bottom lip, shaking his head, “But I’m not tired!”

Oh!  I know. Don’t really want him to see it though. “If you don’t go to sleep, the Tooth Fairy can’t get your tooth,” The blonde got up off the bed, making his way over to the bathroom.

Sammys’ eyes went wide before he dove under the covers, “I didn’t know you had to be asleep!”

“Yep, just like Santa.” Dean stopped in the doorway, turning back to the bed, “So you’ll sleep?”

The five-year-old nodded his head so violently his bangs shook wildly around, before he all but head-butted the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut. Dean smiled at him before closing the bathroom door, locking it.

He plucked his fathers’ razor off the side of the sink, digging out one of the blades, stopping as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Whoa, I didn’t think I’d be younger, he shook his head at his younger reflection, turning his attention back to the razor blade, bringing it to his left wrist, time to wake up.




 

Dean groaned, stretching his arms out over his head, bed sheets. That’s either good or… He sat up slowly, looking around before shaking his head, damn it. He was back in the fancy bedroom. If I wasn’t dreaming, then what the hell-

Wait a minute, Dean slid out of bed and crouched on the floor, peering down at the trim on the bottom of the wall, what is this? He jumped back as he saw the thing move, is it a bug? Whoa! Definitely not a bug, he crept a bit closer as he watched the thing jump in front of him. Carefully, he stretched one hand toward it, picking the end of it up off the floor, it looks like… words? His brows’ furrowed as he turned it around in his hand, silently lip-reading. “Rachel smells bad.”

“Dean,” Cas craned his neck to see the page, “that’s not what it says.”

“No, it is, I swear!” Dean held the book up out-

What the hell? This is… me? Whoa! He nearly dropped it as it as it leapt forward in his hand again, it gets bigger every time I think something? Where the hell did this come from? He looked around the rest of the room, and saw that the string went all the way around the base of the wall, and snaked its way under the door, guess I’m going on an adventure.

Dean began wrapping the string around his hand, doing his best to tie it up so he could move, this has got to be some kind of curse or something. He sighed as the string expanded again and fell from his hand. How am I supposed to carry this if it gets bigger every time I- He stood, eyes catching on the pillows on the bed, worth a shot. He strode over, shaking the closest pillow out of it’s case before scooping up as much of the string as he could, before slinging the sack over his shoulder and heading for the door, this ends now.

 

 

She rubbed at her tired eyes before reaching for her coffee cup, glancing at the time on the laptop, alright, just finish this paragraph and then you can go to bed. She sighed before cracking her knuckles, stifling a yawn, alright, come on, girl. Crunch time. She poised her hands over the keyboard starring at the word document that was sitting open in front of her, cursor blinking unapologetically. Like it’s mocking me.

She sighed again before deflating, shoulders slumping forward, what is wrong with me? It’s just a fic. It shouldn’t be this hard. She lowered her head to the table in front of her, groaning, why can’t I figure out how to end this stupid thing?

A rustling noise from outside made her bring her head back up, she paused the music she was listening to, holding her breath as she listened. There was what sounded like a bang, as if someone hit the side of her house. What the hell? Who would be here at, she glanced at the clock on her laptop, two in the morning? Damn. She got up slowly from her desk and made her way out into the hall, leaning over the railing as the banging noise continued, maybe it’s a burglar. She crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky spots as to not alert whoever was outside, or a murderer.

Okay, no, stop it. Why do you always go there? She shook her head before making her way over to the front door, peering out the peephole, cursing to herself as she saw a man standing on the porch. I can’t believe I was right. She watched him for a minute, brows furrowing in confusion, what is he…? The man checked behind him before kneeling down, inserting what looked like a pin into her deadbolt.

Oh my God! She took a few steps back, heart beginning to pound in her chest, shit, what do I do? What do I do? She watched in mild fascination as the deadbolt turned, unlocking. Shit, shit, shit, she raced back up the stairs, closing the door to her office, before all but jumping back into her desk chair, I can’t believe this is actually happening. Nothing exciting ever happens to me. Okay, not the time for that, she shook her head, c’mon, you’ve written a B&E a million times, what are you supposed to do? Frantic eyes searched the top of her desk, before she spotted her phone. She snatched it just as she heard the front door open, shit. She slid under her desk, thanking her past self that she ended up going with the bigger desk.

She took a deep breath, failing to calm her racing heart as she unlocked her phone, starring at the keypad, oh my God, how do you forget the emergency number? She raked her brain, tensing her body as she thought, c’mon! Now’s not the time to be scared! Her eyes burned as she starred at the phone screen, before it faded out, and locked. She listened as the man walked around below her, maybe he’ll just steal something and leave.

She heard the bottom step creak, and she held her breath, shit, shit, shit. She unlocked the phone again, and felt a bolt of lightening hit her brain, 9-1-1, she punched in the numbers and shook her head, I’m such an idiot. She held the phone up to her ear and held her breath, wait… what do I even say?

I’m sorry. All our operators are currently busy. Please stay on the line and we’ll get to your call as soon as we can.

What the hell? Since when does 9-1-1 have a hold feature? Her knuckles began to turn white around the edge of the phone as she heard footsteps approach the door, please don’t come in, please don’t come in…

Of course, she heard the door swing open, and what sounded like clicks on the hardwood floor, hey, that sounds like- She cut herself off as her dog came around the back of the desk, licking her face. She pet the dogs head and did her best to get it off of her, I thought you were supposed to be a guard dog?

“Hello?”

She closed her eyes and stopped petting the dog, maybe if I don’t move he’ll leave.

“I know you’re under there.”

Guess the jig’s up, she took a deep breath, and crawled out from under the desk, peaking over the top to see the blonde standing on the other side of the desk, he looks angry. She got up, leaning her one arm on her desk and hoped her face didn’t show how scared shitless she was, “H-hi.”

“So it’s you,” the man dropped the pillow case he’d been holding on the floor and took a step forward.

“Please, don’t kill me!” She involuntarily took a step back, holding her hands up in front of her, real smooth, girl.

The blonde blinked in surprise, “Kill you? I don’t want to kill you.”

“Oh,” she cautiously took a step forward, easing herself down into her desk chair, “Then… what do you want? You can steal anything, just please, don’t take my laptop.”

“I don’t want to steal-” He cut himself off as his eyes shot to the laptop that was sitting open on the desk. He came around the front of the desk, squinting at the word document that was sitting open. His eyes widened in realization before turning back to the girl, “What is this?”

“Uhm,” she swallowed thickly, rolling her chair backward as he came closer, “A-a story.”

“Why’re you writing about me?”

She blinked in surprise, “What? No, I’m writing about-” She rolled closer, looking between the screen and the man standing in front of her, eyes going wide as she saw his features light up in the faint glow of the screen, “Oh my God. You’re Dean?”

“Duh.” He pointed to the screen, eyes narrowing, “What the hell are you doing? Who gave you the right to write what I say and do, huh?”

“I, uhm, well…” her mind was racing, “Y-you’re not supposed to be real.”

“Yeah, cause I have a choice.” He gave her a pointed look, “Seriously, what the hell? How long have you been doing this?”

She lowered her eyes to the ground, “W-well, uhm… it’s been a few years.”

Years?”

She nodded meekly, “Y-yeah. People really like it, too. But, wait,” she turned her eyes back to him, “How did you get out of the story?”

“…What?”

“The story,” she pointed toward the computer screen, rolling herself closer, “Look, I left you in your and Cas’ bedroom,” she glanced at him and sighed at the confused look on his face, “You were in a fictional place. The bedroom? It doesn’t exist – I made it up. So how did you get from Imaginary Land to the real world?”

He let out a breath as he straightened up, running a hand through his hair, “Shit if I know.”

“This is weird,” she opened her internet browser, starring at the empty search bar, “I don’t even know where to begin to figure this out.”

“Can’t you just…” He sat on the edge of the desk, letting out a heavy sigh, “I don’t know, stop writing about me?”

“Pfft, no,” she chuckled, “The fandom would riot.”

“Well,” he chewed his lip, eyes on the pillow case, “Wait, you aren’t writing this part?”

“Am I– what? Oh, no,” She turned to him, “Do you see me typing?”

“Where did you leave off?” He got back up, walking over to the laptop, “Maybe that’s the clue.”

“Uuuhm,” she minimized the browser, before re-reading the story, “I left you… in the bedroom, you were just getting kicked out by Cas.”

“Damn, guess that’s not it,” he sulked back over to the corner of the desk.

“Wait, why not?”

“I was… scene jumping? After that. I was on a beach, and then I was with Sam, but he was little, then I was hun-” he cut himself off as he noticed the look on her face, “What?”

“Well,” she swallowed thickly, “I… I was having trouble thinking of what kind of fic to make, so I started and scraped a few ideas. One was you hunting, one was a Wee!Chesters fic – that would’ve been you with Sam when he was little – and one of you on vacation with Cas.”

He got up, brows furrowed in confusion as he made his way to the pillow case. He brought it over, handing it to me, “Explain this, then.”

Intrigued and no longer scared, she opened the bag, peering inside, “It’s empty.”

“Exactly. Wait, what?” He snatched it back, turning it upside down, shaking it out, “How is it empty?”

“Uhm…” She rolled over to it, picking it up off the floor, “What was in it?”

He hung his head, pointing to the computer screen, “That.”

“… My story was in this bag?”

“Yes!” He took it out of her hands, turning it over, shaking his head, “I followed a string of words, from the bedroom all the way here.” At my disbelieving look, he shrugged, gesturing to my laptop, “Maybe it’s leaking words?”

“Leaking words?”

“I don’t know!” He ran a hand through his hair again, blowing out a breath in frustration, “Weirder things have happened to me.”

“True, but you’re fictional. Or, were fictional.” She tapped her nails on her desk as she thought, starring at the computer, “Maybe… maybe it’s some sort of curse?”

“That’s what I said!” He threw his hands up in exasperation, “Is that even a thing here?”

“What? Magic?” At his nod she shrugged, “Some people be-”

“No, no, no.” He held up one hand, “Don’t give me that crap. This is a yes or no question. Does magic exist here?”

“Yes. But, before you get too excited, it doesn’t exist in the same ways as you’re used to.” At his confused expression she sighed, “Okay, to be honest, there’s no real concrete proof one way or the other. Like, we could throw a bunch of shit in a bowl and say a chant, but it’s not likely to-”

“Great,” he clapped his hands, making her jump, “Let’s do it.”

“I’m sorry, do what?”

“Un-curse me! Or send me back or whatever.” He gestured to the laptop again, “C’mon, get me the ingredients.”

Her jaw dropped, he can’t be serious, she rolled back toward the laptop, typing into the search bar. “Okay, I’ll try,” She shook her head, “but don’t be too disappointed if we-” she cut herself off as the search results came up, “Huh.”

Dean came around to look at the screen, before lightly hitting her arm, “Told you.”

“I honestly didn’t think that would work.” She clicked open one article and began skimming it, guess the internet really does have everything.

“See?” He shook his head at her, “Most people have no idea what’s really out there.”

“I should have all this stuff. Seems straight-forward enough.” She rolled back, getting up out of the chair, walking out of the room, before returning a moment later with an arm full of candles, pack of chalk, a bowl and a lighter, “Kinda reminds me of a reverse Tulpa.”

He glanced up at her from the laptop, “How do you know-”

“Dude,” She held up a hand as she deposited the contents of her arms onto her desk, before she began placing the candles down in a circle on the floor, “I’ve watched every season of your TV show, I know pretty much as much about the supernatural as you do.”

“TV show?” He shook his head, walking over to stand inside the forming circle, “I’m going to kill Chuck.”

“Actually, here,” she grabbed his arm, dragging him a bit so he was centered, “A guy named Eric Kripke invented you.”

“Great.” He sighed, eyes on the girl as she moved around, lighting all the candles, “You sure this is gonna work?”

“Well,” she took the chalk out of the pack and began drawing, “The spell on the website says it’s to summon a fictional character here.”

“So?”

“So,” she grunted as she almost tripped over one of the candles, “If you’re already here, and we do this summoning, it might send you back, or it might do nothing.”

“Oh.”

She looked up as she completed the circle, wiping her hands on her pants, “Don’t worry,” she gave him a cheeky grin, “If this doesn’t work, there were 1.8 billion other results.”

He chuckled before scratching the back of his neck, lowering his eyes to the floor, biting his lip.

“Hey,” her voice got him to look back at her, “Don’t be nervous. You’ve got the easy part.”

His brows creased, “How do you-” He shook his head, “Never mind.”

She turned the laptop so she could see it from the other side of the desk, before pulling out one of his hairs.

“Ow!”

“Oh, please,” she dropped the hair into the bowl on the floor, “I’ve seen you get tossed around by pretty much every supernatural creature out there.” She gave him a pointed look, “You expect me to believe that hurt?”

“Yeah!” He rubbed the spot for a moment.

She rolled her eyes before grabbing the pack of matches, lighting one, “Ready?”

He took in a deep breath before nodding.

“Alright,” she turned to look at the computer screen before letting it fall from her hand, “Let’s get you home.”


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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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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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All Over The Place





Written: 19.02.01

Words: 767

Wee!Chesters


“I’m hungry.”

He sighed, hanging his head lower, grip on the counter tightening, “I know.”

There was a moment of silence as the gears in his head turned, he couldn’t keep doing this – selling drugs for money, it wasn’t right. Not only because of the obvious dangers both sketchy addicts and otherwise – but more so because it wasn’t fair to his brother.

He was supposed to be taking care of him, not going out every night after he got back from school, only to come back at 3am reeking of cigar smoke and alcohol. He knew his brother wasn’t stupid either – Sammy knew he was doing something to earn the money he had, he just prayed he wasn’t quite smart enough to figure out exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take it if he found out.

“… De?”

The blondes’ head whipped up and he saw his brother, holding out the ugly neon pink piggy bank he’d bought him last Christmas. His brows furrowed, “What are you-”

“Take it.”

“Sammy, no, I can’t. It’s yours.”

The kid huffed out a breath, pushing it against his brothers’ chest hard, eyes shining with tears, “Take it!”

Dean blinked in surprise, eyeing his brother, “Sammy?”

His brothers’ bottom lip poked out and he hung his head, hair falling to cover his face, voice shaking, “Don’t… don’t go out tonight, De.”

Dean felt himself pale, oh, God, no. He sucked in a breath, “Sam, it’s okay. I’m-”

“No!” The five-year-old stomped his foot on the ground, lifting his eyes to his brother, tears streaming down his face, “You don’t need to anymore!” He shook the piggy bank, “Let me help!”

The blonde rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, debating about what to do for a moment, feeling a boulder of guilt settle into his stomach, “… Okay.”

Sammy sniffed loudly, eyeing his brother as he took the piggy bank, “You won’t go out tonight?”

Dean smiled softly, ruffling his brothers’ hair before he sat down at the table, doing his best to keep the wince off his face, “I won’t.” He uncorked the bank, coins spilling all over the table, face falling slightly as he mentally counted the coins.

Sammy jumped up into his lap and looked over the table, before turning to him, “How much is it?”

Dean hid his disappointment and chuckled, “It’s exactly what we need, Sammy. Thank-you.”

The brunette narrowed his eyes before turning back to the coins, “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” he scooped the coins off the table quickly, placing them back into the bank, “Now I can go shopping later.”

“Why don’t you go now?”

“Because,” Dean placed his brother on the ground, going to stand up, “you have to go to bed first.”

“Aw, Dean!” Sammy rolled his eyes, “I don’t wanna go to bed!”

“Uh-oh,” Dean hid a hand behind his back, face going serious, “He doesn’t like that.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Tickles!”

Sammy squealed as his brother lunged forward, tickling hand stretched out in front of him, “No! No, not Mr. Tickles!”

“You better hurry! I think he’s hungry!” Dean chased his brother up the stairs, feeling himself relax as his brother giggled.

Sammy stopped mid-way up the stairs, stopping to turn confused eyes to the blonde, “Hungry?”

Dean nodded, continuing up, “He eats five-year-olds. He tickles them to death, and then eats them.”

His brothers’ eyes went wide and he continued up the stairs, practically flinging himself onto the bed, pulling the blankets up over his head. Dean chased him in, jumping on the bed before tickling his brother over the covers, chuckling as he began laughing hysterically.

“No! Dean,” the brunette was gasping for air within minutes, “Stop!”

“Okay, okay,” he gradually stopped tickling and let his brother up from under the covers, face red from lack of oxygen. He waited a moment, relaxing as his face returned to a normal colour, before reaching for the duffle bag that was stashed under the bed, throwing some clothes at him, “Go shower.”

Sammy let out an exasperated sigh, “Do I have to?”

“Yes,” Dean nodded matter-of-factly, “Unless you want Mr. Tickles to come back…”

“No! No! Okay,” Sammy hopped off the bed and ran to the doorway, pausing, “You won’t go shopping until I’m back, right?”

Dean gave him his thousand-watt-smile, “And miss story time? What do you think I am, a monster?”

Sammy smiled before disappearing around the corner. Dean starred after him, stretching himself out on the bed as he picked up one of the books on the nightstand, thanks, Sammy.


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Puppy Love

Prompt from Rebekah: (17.11.13): Dean ‘saves’ puppy from streets. Sam can’t believe it but it makes him happy – Sam ends up taking care – Dean cuddles and pictures

Sorry this took me forever (and that I veered off the prompt), but I hope you liked!

Gen. Sam/Dean.

Words: 1,075


“Hey, uh, Dean?”

“What?” The blonde came around the corner to see Sam standing with his back to the door, his hands on hips, “Jesus, Sam! You couldn’t have showered first?” Dean covered his nose with his shirt, almost gagging on the post-run Sam stench.

“What the hell is this?” The giant half turned to face the elder who’d stopped in the doorway.

“What’s-” The eldest cut himself off as he was knocked to the floor by a pile of fur and slobber, “Cassandra!” He chuckled as the dog continued her assault on his face.

After the warm welcome he received the dog sat down directly in front of him as he climbed back to his feet, tail making a dull thud, thud against the floor.

Sam cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow expectantly, “Well?”

“… It’s a dog,” Dean patted her head before moving to the couch, the dog following obediently, “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one?”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Yeah, I can see it’s a dog. I mean why is it here?”

“Oh… y’know…” The eldest rubbed a hand at the back of his neck, “She,” he sighed and shook his head, “she peed on my car.”

“… So you decided to bring her home?” Sam moved to follow his brother, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Look, I just…” he bit his lip and turned his eyes toward the furry being, starring up at him with her big eyes, “I tried shooing her away, but she didn’t listen. I opened the door and she just hopped right in like she owned the place. I figured, if I was gonna be stuck with her, I might as well feed her. She really needed it, too,” he pet her head softly, “You should’ve seen her, Sam, she was all skin and bone.”

Sam raised his eyebrow, “I thought you didn’t like dogs?”

Dean stood, hands balling into fists at his sides, “So what? You think I’d just let her starve to death?”

“Wha…? No, of course not! I was just surprised.” Sam eyed his brother, why are you being so defensive?

The blonde noticed the look on his brothers’ face and scoffed, before heading off into the other room, Cassandra following suit, “Leave it alone, Sam.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Good,” his brother stopped in the doorway, “Take a shower, will ya? We’re already gonna have to burn the couch!”

 




 

Sam stood under the spray of the water, gears in his head turning, why is he so obsessed with keeping the dog? He soaped up his body, turning so the water cascaded down his back, you’re using it – her- to fill something, I just don’t- his eyes widened as he made the connection, Cassandra! You’re using her to replace Cas!

“Well look who finally made the connection.”

The voice made him jump and rip the curtain open, eyes wild until he spotted the blonde perched on the toilet seat. Sam tilted his head to the side, allowing the water to wash the soap from his chest, leave me alone.

“C’mon, Sam. We never talk anymore,” the giant stiffened as he saw the devils’ shadow get up and make his way to the curtain, “we gotta make the most of our alone time.”

You’re not real, you’re not real… He pressed on the scar on his palm, squeezing his eyes shut. He opened them and sighed in relief as the devil was nowhere in sight. He finished his shower quickly and toweled off, swinging the bathroom door open, stopping in the doorway as he saw the dog a few feet away, just starring at him.

“What the hell?” He walked a few paces closer, hoping to get to his bedroom, when it started growling at him, “Uh… Dean?”

“What?”

The giant got closer to the dog, and it got up, before barring its’ teeth at him, beginning to growl. Sam stopped cold, halfway to his bedroom, what the hell? He held his one hand out, but dropped it back to his side when the dog began barking, “Dean?”

His brothers’ head poked out from around the corner, and immediately the dog ran over to him, demeanor changing completely. The blonde laughed and began petting her, while raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Sam stood there, shocked, “… Did you not just see how angry she was?”

“Angry?” His brother looked between the happy, tail-wagging dog and his brother for a moment, “…. This dog?”

“Yes, Dean, that one,” he took a step forward and the dog moved in front of Dean, beginning to growl again, “See?”

“Whoa, what did you do to her?”

Sams’ jaw dropped, he thinks I did something to her? “Nothing! I just came out of the shower and she was sitting there watching me.”

“Pfft,” Dean waved a dismissive hand, “She’s probably just protecting me.”

“Dean, I’m your brother,” he took another step toward the pair, ignoring the volume increase in the dogs’ growls, “she doesn’t need to protect you from me.”

Dean eyed him before disappearing around the corner, returning a moment later with a container of water, and a silver knife.

Sam snorted, “Dean, what…?”

His brother shrugged, handing the objects out to him, “Dogs are good at telling if a person is a threat.”

“Dud, c’mon, it’s me.

“She didn’t have a problem with my brother when he came back from his run.”

I’m your brother.”

“Prove it,” he wiggled the items in his hands.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, before grabbing the items, “Fine.” He took a swig from the holy water before pressing the silver knife against his forearm, raising an eyebrow at his brother, “Happy now? It’s still me.”

“Christo.”

Sam rolled his eyes before looking back to his brother expectantly.

“Okay, fine, you’re you.”

“Thank-you,” he went forward a few more steps and the dog began barking, “Dude, seriously?”

Dean shot her a look and she ran down the hall, stopping around what sounded like the front door. The blonde turned back to his brother with a smirk, “What can I say? Chicks dig me.”

Sam rolled his eyes as he made his way to his room, “Just train her.”

Dean gave a half-smile and shrugged, “Who woulda guessed?”

The giant stopped in his doorway, giving his brother a look.

Dean chuckled as he walked away, “Looks like your bad luck with women isn’t exclusive to humans.”


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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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Friggin’ Siblings

Wee!Chesters

Words: 851


Sammy shrieked and pulled his t-shirt down over his privates as his brother burst into the bathroom, “Dean!”

“Sorry Sammy, but I just ran a whole mile and need to shower,” the blonde hopped around the small room in front of the tub, struggling to get his pants off.

“But I’m already in here!”

“I have to shower before Dad gets back, I get to help him on a hunt today,” he threw his pants behind him as he jumped in the tub.

Sammy growled as they landed on his head, this isn’t fair. He got off the toilet and washed his hands, before leaving the bathroom. Stupid Dean, he climbed up on his bed and took out a book, ‘I get to help on hunt’ ugh. He couldn’t of waited five more seconds? He begrudgingly started reading. He heard his brother start singing at the top of his lungs. He made a face, before struggling off the bed, padding over to pound on the wall.

“Dean!”

His brother just started singing louder, dang it. Sam huffed, before going back to the bed, are all brothers’ this annoying? Or did I get a special one? He starred at the wall, trying to think of a way he could get even with his brother.

Just then, their dad came in, he strode over to the first bed, gruffly throwing his duffle down, while sliding another out from under it.

“Where’s your brother?” He threw a few different things back and forth between bags, not bothering to look up.”

“H-he’s in the shower,” Sammy watched his father in part fascination, part worry.

John zipped one of the bags closed before tossing the other one back to the floor, kicking it back under the bed.

“Is everything okay?” Sammy couldn’t tell if his dad was scared or pissed.

The eldest wretched the door open, pausing a moment to finally look at his son, “I leave in five minutes.”

With that, he was gone. Sammy blinked, did he want me to tell him? His eyes drifted back to the bathroom door, Dean did want to go… Sammy sat on the bed, torn. On the one hand, Dean seemed really excited to go on a hunt, on the other, hunting was dangerous. Sammy had seen how badly some hunts could go, and it was more often then not that they both had to play nurse to John afterward. He didn’t even say what he was hunting… His eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall. He sighed before getting back off the bed, knocking on the door.

“Don’t tell me you have to go again already!”

“No, Dean, I-”

“You really need to get that looked at!”

“Dean, stop, I’m-”

“Maybe when dad gets back he can take you to the doctor. That is not natural!”

Sammys’ hands balled into fists at his sides, “Dean!

He stormed back into the bathroom, giving the shower curtain a death-glare.

“Sammy, what the hell?” A bottle of shampoo came flying out from behind the curtain, “Get out!”

“No! I-” The youngest cut himself off as the shampoo landed in the toilet, giving him an idea.

I know how to get him out. His face twisted into an evil smile and he tried to hold back his laughter.

“Seriously, dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry Dean,” he did his best to hide the giggles he felt, his fingers sliding down to the toilet handle, “I just forgot something.”

“Forgot something?” The blonde poked his head out from behind the curtain, taking in his brother and where his hand was placed, eyes going wide, “Don’t you dare!”

“Oops!” Sammy pushed as hard as he could down on the handle, before walking back out to the room with his chest puffed, grinning ear to ear at hearing his brothers’ scream.

“I’m so gonna get you for that!”

Sammy climbed back up on the bed, sliding his book back into his lap as he heard the water turn off. A second later, his brother came storming out, towel wrapped around his waist, eyes nearly slits. He looked up from his book as if nothing happened, “Oh, hi Dean.”

The blonde grit his teeth and started toward him, when John came back through the door. He gave his eldest a once over before rolling his eyes, “Going on your first hunt in that?

“Uh, no, Sir, I uh…” Deans’ eyes darted around the room and his cheeks flared.

“You have two minutes,” John all but slammed the door behind him.

Dean ran over to the bed Sammy was on, yanking his duffle out from underneath it, throwing clothes out behind him like a madman.

“Where is it? Where is it?” He dug through the duffle for a moment longer before pulling out a plain black t-shirt – that looked exactly the same as the other four that were on the floor behind him.

He dressed quickly, hopping around as he pulled on his shoes. He went over to the door, pausing in the doorway as he noticed his brother was still giggling.

“This isn’t over.”


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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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Son of a Bitch

Written: 18.03.28


“Son of a bitch!”

Sam shot straight up in his bed, grabbing for his gun before bolting into the living room, finding his brother standing there, face twisted with pain.

“Dean, what is it? What happened?” Gun at the ready, the giant swept the room with his eyes, finding… nothing. What?

He ran around the room, checking the doorways leading into the other parts of the bunker, coming up empty. He set his gun down and returned to his brother, who was still standing there, glaring at the table.

“Dude, what the hell?”

His brother finally acknowledged him and nodded toward it, “Stubbed my friggin’ toe.”

Sam sighed in relief, “Your toe?”

The blonde held his foot in one hand, face falling like a child who broke their favourite toy, “It hurts.”

The giant rolled his eyes before making a move to the door, “I was sleeping, y’know.”

“… It’s throbbing.”

Sam shook his head, starting back to his room, “I’m going back to bed. Try not to let any of the other furniture get the drop on you while I’m gone.”

“Yeah, yeah, go finish your beauty rest, Samantha.”

“Night, Jerk.”

“Night, Bitch.”


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