Tag Archives: TAF

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.”


Like this fic? Check out more here!

Got an idea for a request? Shoot me an e-mail: fanfic@aterimber.com

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?


Want me to make this fic longer? Comment below!

Like it? Check out more here!

(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)

Like the fic? Check out more here!

Gruff




Written as a sort-of request from Daughter of a Witch (SPN Amino app)

Written: 19.02.21

Words: 398

Crobby (My first!)


“Balls!” Bobby took his hat off his head, wiping back his sweaty hair before replacing it, reaching for his gun as he heard a crash from downstairs.

He crept down the steps slowly, running through his last salt-line check. He didn’t think he had missed any, but then again, last he remembered he was also in the living room.

He stepped as quietly as he could across his floor, praying his aging house didn’t give away his location.

Just as he was nearing the kitchen, the doors swung open, startling him.

The sound of the gun going off momentarily stunned him before his eyes were met with black, fuck.

“Well hello to you too, Darling.” Crowley placed the whiskey glass down before raising an eyebrow as he saw the bullet hole in his chest, “This is Italian!” He huffed once before digging his hand into the wound, “Y’know, if you had used the Colt,” he grit his teeth before yanking his hand out of the wound, emerging with the bullet between his fingers, “I’d be dead.”

“What’re you doing here?” Bobby clicked the safety on before putting the gun down, walking over to steal the mans’ drink, “Besides drinking my whiskey?”

The demon smiled, “Not one for small talk, are you?”

The hunter narrowed his eyes as he took a swig from the glass, taking a few steps back.

Crowley caught his wrist, smile widening, “I was hoping to make this a…” he brought his lips close to his ear, “personal visit.”

“I take it you know the boys’ ain’t here?”

“One of the perks of being me.”

The brunette eyed him for a moment before wrenching his wrist out of the demons’ grasp, crossing the room to his desk, “What makes you think I got time for that?”

“Bobby,” Crowley followed him, jumping up to sit on his desk, “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

The hunter eyed the demon for a moment before sighing, “Fine.” He flipped the giant book closed in a puff of dust, “But make it quick. The boys’ll be back any minute.”

Crowley smirked, “I could always send them a little…” he crept closer, sitting in the hunters’ lap, “distraction.”

“You do,” Bobbys’ breath caught in his throat as the demon went to work on his neck, “and next time I’ll make sure I use the Colt.”


Like this fic? Check out more here!

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.”


Like the story? Check out more here!

Got an idea for a fic you want me to write? Shoot me an e-mail: fanfic@aterimber.com (I promise it won’t take me 4 years to write!)

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?”


Like this story? Check out more here!

Do you have a request for a SPN fic you’d like me to write? Shoot me an e-mail: fanfic@aterimber.com. (I promise it won’t take me 5 years to write)

The Moment I Knew (Version 2)

Started: 17.11.14

Finished: 18.01.12

Words: 3,147

I actually completely forgot that I had written two versions and didn’t upload the second one. Sorry this is so late, but I hope you enjoy.

Based on the Taylor Swift song of the same name. (Listen to it here)

SF, Destiel, TW: Suicide (Mentioned)


“Cas?”

The mentioned turned away from the window, smiling as his eyes met emerald green.

“What’re you doing street watching?” the blonde flopped down on the couch and peeked through the blinds, “it’s just snowing.”

“I just needed a bit of quiet,” he couldn’t help the blush that crept up his neck.

“A bit of quiet?” Dean turned from the window to face him, “y’know it’s your party, right? You can tell them to shut up if you want.”

Cas chuckled and shook his head, “As long as they’re having fun and not breaking things, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Well then you definitely don’t want to miss this,” the taller man stood up with a smile, “Gabriel’s table surfing.”

“Table surfing? Where?”

“On the kitchen island,” Dean tucked his hands into his pockets as he leaned back to check it out, “aaand yep, just what I thought. He’s got your cake precariously placed between his legs.”

Cas shook his head and laughed again, “Remind me next year not to serve alcohol.”

The taller man chuckled, offering him a hand, “C’mon. Let’s get you back to your party.”

“Cas!”

The voice startled the black-haired man out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked around, boulder beginning to grow in his stomach at the lack-of-Dean. His eyes flicked up to see Gabriel sauntering over before turning back to the window. Where is he?

“Are you deaf? I’ve been calling your name for like an hour!”

Maybe he’s just late… his eyes scanned the empty street, hoping against all odds to see the blonde materialize on the sidewalk, he said he’d be here.

“Hello?” Cas blinked as Gabriel waved a hand at his face, “anybody home?”

He sighed and turned away from the window again, “What?”

The brunette waved a dismissive hand, “Man, stop wasting your time waiting for that dickhead. What did I tell you? He’s not showing.”

“You’re drunk,” the raven-haired man felt the hot sting of tears in his eyes at his brother’s words.

No-no-no-no, he’s wrong. He’ll be here. He has to. He failed to swallow the lump in his throat and willed the tears away.

“C’mon, you’ve got candles to blow out,” he slung an arm around his brothers’ shoulders before dragging him off in the direction of the kitchen.

“You mean my cake didn’t fall during your surfing stunt?”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Surfing?”

“Yeah, on the-” he cut himself off and turned his gaze to the floor, oh.

The brunette’s eyes lit up with mischief, “Were you gonna say on the island? In the kitchen?”

“No…” wait, did he say I had to blow out candles?

Gabriel gave his brother a sideways glance, noting his saddening expression, “you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” I can’t believe it’s already that late. He better get here soon.

“Don’t worry little bro, I’ve never defiled your kitchen counter by surfing on it. Fooling around on the other hand…”

Cas shook his head and tried to push the sinking feeling aside, “You’re definitely drunk.”

“Pfft, naw,” Gabriel tripped on the lip separating the living room from the kitchen, before turning a lopsided grin to his brother, “okay, maybe a little. But it’s a party!”

The shorter man gave a tight smile as he helped him up, before going through the swinging kitchen door.

“Okay, sit here,” the raven-haired man was pushed into the only chair at the end of the island, before Gabriel scurried back out.

Everyone else began gathering around the table, continuing their conversations in hushed voices. Cas felt sweat break out across his neck, he knew it was his birthday, but the way no one was talking to him, and the way they all kept eyeing him while whispering, well… he wasn’t that stupid. C’mon, Dean, where are you? His eyes swept over all their faces absently while he waited, subconsciously searching for those emerald green’s.

Gabriel came back through the door, pushing it open with his back while he held the lit cake, face splitting with a grin as he made his way to the island, “Happy birthday…”

The room exploded with off-key singing as the cake was placed down in front of him. Cas couldn’t help feeling like the wind had been punched out of him when the cake was put down – it was like it cemented the fact the one person he wanted to be there the most, wasn’t.

He said he’d be here, he felt tears prick back at the corner’s of his eyes, this time failing to blink them away. He closed them in the hopes of keeping them at bay and tried to swallow the lump in his throat, I can’t believe he didn’t-

“Don’t wish for too much, Cas.”

He opened his eyes to see Gabriel starring at him, nodding toward the still-lit cake. Taking a quick look around the room again, maybe I just missed his face, he realized everyone was starring at him. Some confused, others leaning over to whisper to their neighbour.

“I-I don’t-” I can’t do this, he got up, avoiding his brother’s questioning gaze and all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

He sunk to the floor as he felt the tears begin to fall, he promised…

 

 

Winchester!”

 Dean slid out from under the car he was working on to see his boss, chest heaving, face red, stomping toward him.

“Where the hell is my daughter?”

“Probably still sore from last night,” he smirked before sliding back under.

He felt his boss’ boot catch the end of his creeper, yanking him back out. The blonde glared up at the other man, I don’t have time for this.

The vein in his head began throbbing as he narrowed his eyes, “You want to try that again?”

The blonde ran a hand through his hair, shrugging.

His boss stomped his foot, face almost purple, “You will show me some respect, Diana!”

Diana? You really want to go there? He sighed before standing up, towering over his boss, “Sir, if I knew where your daughter was, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, keep making those jokes. We’ll see how funny you find them tonight,” his lips curled into an evil smile.

“Tonight? I think you’re losing it man, I get off at six.”

His boss’ smile grew, face returning to a somewhat normal colour, “Is that so? Interesting,” he took a few steps away, mindlessly looking over his tools, “I could’ve sworn the schedule said you were covering for her tonight.”

“Covering for her? You mean taking the graveyard shift?” Deans’ hands balled at his sides, no chance in hell, pal.

“That’s the one,” he picked up a screwdriver, smiling at it, “such a gentleman, you are.”

The blonde grit his teeth and had to use all his willpower not to punch him, “How so?”

He put the tool down, out of place, before meeting his eyes, smiling sweetly, “Offering to cover her shift without pay, of course.”

“Listen, if you think-”

“No, you listen,” he was back in his face again, eyes sparkling dangerously, “The only reason I don’t fire you,” he dropped his voice, “is because I promised your father. But if you ever talk about her like that again you will be sleeping under the bridge off 33rd Street and fighting over a barrel fire. Do I make myself clear?”

Deans glared in response, knuckles turning white at his sides.

“Don’t forget who owns who.”

He backed off again, clapping his hands, “Okay, good talk,” he looked around the shop and spotted the other two mechanics watching, “What’re you looking at? Get back to work!”

They both jumped at being caught and rushed back over to their cars, keeping their eyes on their work. His boss pulled the lapels of this suit, straightening it before walking back across the shop to his office.

Dean waited until he saw the office door close before knocking his toolbox to the ground, “Fuck!”

Tony and Mike looked up from their cars again, both men only coming marginally closer. Dean tugged at his hair, grinding his teeth together, if he thinks I’m staying for the graveyard shift, he’s got another thing coming.

 

 

Shit, Dean glanced at his watch before checking the positioning of the creeper, this’ll have to do.

He locked his tool box before grabbing his jacket, sneaking over to his boss’ office. He peered into the window and saw he was sitting, facing his computer. The blonde quietly came around the other side of the office, pressing his ear to the door. He held his breath as he listened.

Just as I thought, he smiled, shrugging on his jacket as he heard soft snores. He strolled over to the door before taking one last look around the shop. Nodding to himself that everything was in order, he walked out the door.

“Damn!” he pulled his jacket tighter around his chest as the cold hit him.

Jogging to his car, he fumbled with his keys, fingers already freezing. Oh c’mon!

After what felt like forever he finally wretched the door open and climbed inside. He spent a minute rubbing his hands up and down his bare legs, making a mental note to start leaving an extra set of clothes in the car. Thank God I did laundry last night, he rubbed his thighs through his boxers.

He took his phone off the seat next to him, punching the speed dial before bringing it to his ear, please pick up… please pick up…

“Hello?”

“Cas, hey, buddy, I’m so sorry, my boss was being a dick and gave me the graveyard shift, but I’m leaving now. I should get there-”

“I-it’s fine, Dean. You don’t have to come.”

Dean blinked, next sentence of his explanation dying on his lips as he took in his shaky voice, something’s wrong, “Are you okay?”

He heard a sniff, “Y-yeah, I’m fine. You don’t have to come over.”

You don’t sound fine, “Don’t be stupid, it’s your birthday, of course I’m gonna be there. I might’ve missed your brother making a fool of himself, but you and I both know the party doesn’t really start until I get there.”

“Dean,” his voice was hard, but the taller man didn’t miss the shaky inhale on the other line, “you missed the party. Everybody left.”

The blonde failed to swallow the guilt he felt building in his throat, “Oh.”

“Yeah, so just… it’s fine, don’t come over.”

Dean nodded, starring at himself in the rear view mirror, I should’ve been there, I should’ve left earlier then I could’ve- he cut himself off as he listened, heart breaking a bit as he heard the soft gasps of the man on the other line. He could picture him sitting there, hand over his mouth trying to keep the blonde from hearing him cry.

He closed his eyes, licking his lips, keeping his voice soft, “Cas,” what can I say? How can I make it up to you? “I’d still like to see you.”

“No, I-” another shaky breath, “you can’t.”

Dean felt his heart quicken, “What do you mean I can’t?” he was already jamming the key in the ignition, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Damn it, he threw the broken end of the key to the ground, eyes glancing skyward, you’re not gonna make this easy, are you? He looked around the lot, racking his brain for another idea, walk? No, it’s too cold for that. C’mon there has to be something I can-

He paused as he saw the old, broken down car in the corner of the parking lot, will it run in the cold? Time to find out, he climbed out of the car and all but ran to the other side of the lot, phone pressed tightly against his ear.

“Cas? You still there?”

“Yeah…”

“I’m on my way,” he tugged on the handle, not surprised to see it was unlocked.

“Dean-”

“I’ll be there soon, okay?” he dug through the glove box for the keys, “Don’t do anything… rash.”

A dry laugh filled the air, making his blood run cold.

His hand closed around the key, yanking it from the glove box, “Hey. Promise me you won’t do anything. Don’t even move-”

“Dean, I-”

“Promise me, Cas,” he jammed the key in the ignition, smiling as it roared to life.

“O-okay. I won’t move.”

“Good. Alright, I’ll be there in twenty,” he threw the phone down on the seat next to him before speeding out of the parking lot.

Hang on, Cas.

 

 

“No, no, no, no, c’mon baby!” he hit the steering wheel as the car began to slow down.

He was about halfway to Cas’ house, car running better then he’d hoped it would in the rain. Naturally, that was where his good luck ran out – now the car was dying as it tried to make it over the bridge. And it had started pouring. C’mon, I don’t have time for this, he turned the key again, swearing to himself as it didn’t start. He leaned his head back, eyes closed, scrubbing a hand down his face with a sigh, what the hell am I supposed to do now? He failed to ignore the feeling of dread that was settling into his stomach, he wouldn’t actually do anything stupid… would he? He spent all night with his brother drinking… something was definitely wrong when I called him earlier. Dean fumbled, hand searching the seat beside him for his phone, maybe I really am over-reacting, he hit speed-dial and brought the phone up to his ear, he’s probably fine, there’s no way he’d actually-

This is Cas. Leave me a message.

Shit. Dean ended the call before trying again, c’mon, Cas, don’t-

This is Cas. Leave me a message.

Shit, shit, shit, Dean was in the back seat, searching the car before his brain had registered he’d even moved, feeling of dread deepening. He double-checked the time on the dash, he shouldn’t be asleep yet, before he brought the phone to his ear, one more time.

He leaned his head against the window, struggling to see, “Why did it have to start raining?”

This is Cas,” He growled in frustration before snapping the phone shut and throwing it to the ground, I’ve got to get over there now.

How am I gonna get there? Stupid car, if only I could- he bit his lip, cutting himself off as his hands balled into fists at the realization, I’m gonna have to run it.

Fuck, the blonde ran his hands through his hair, eyes raising skyward, you’re really not making this easy, y’know that? I thought you were supposed to be the helpful one. He took a deep breath, picking the cell up off the floor, okay, alright, I got this. I can run it, sure it’s only ten blocks… in my boxers… in the rain… shit. No, okay, on the count of three.

One, he climbed back over into the driver seat, hand on the handle, two, he took in a deep breath and failed to banish the fact that the rain was coming down in sheets, three.

 

 

Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck! He wiped water out of his eyes, squinting to see the house numbers, 459… 459…c’mon, I know it’s- ah-ha! He ran up the driveway and pounded on the door, right hand tightening his grip on the cell.

“Cas!” He pounded on the door again, thankful for once that Cas had insisted on having a roofed porch.

“Cas! C’mon, man! Open the door!”

God damn it, he pounded once more on the door, before hoping off the porch, making his way around the side of the house to the window, you better be- he stopped when he saw the bathroom light was on, door ajar.

“Cas?” He tapped on the glass, wiping more water out of his eyes.

He failed to wipe the water from the screen, punching the raven-haired mans’ number, before bringing it to his ear, working his way to the other side of the house. He grit his teeth as he stepped through a bush, branches scraping against his bare legs. He peered into this window, thankful he had a better vantage point of the bathroom. He could see Cas’ legs stretched out in front of the door, not liking the boulder that was settling into his stomach. C’mon, Cas, pick up!

This is Cas. Leave me a message.

He pounded his free hand against the window, “Cas! Cas!”

Punching redial, he tried to calm his racing heart, he’s fine, I’m sure he’s just passed out from drinking. He always was a lightweight. And if he was alone with Gabriel-

“H-hello?”

His heart almost leapt out of his chest at the non-robotic voice, “Cas!”

“D’n?”

The boulder in his stomach grew, something’s not right, “Yeah, buddy. I told you I’d make it. Come open the door.”

Dean swallowed thickly, noting how laboured his breathing sounded, not liking how small his voice sounded, like he’s fading, “I-I’m outside, come let me in.”

He squinted into the house, willing his legs to move, twitch, anything. He waited a few beats, boulder growing with each shaky breath he heard come through the line.

“Cas? You okay? Come let me in, let’s-”

He heard a crash before seeing the phone fall to the bathroom floor. That’s it, he took a step back, checking out the window before kicking it. Glass shattered around him, mixing with the falling rain. It had barely exploded before Dean was already scrambling into the house, hands and knees getting cut on some of the pieces. He got himself back on his feet and all but ran to the bathroom, falling to his knees as he spotted Cas leaned against the bathtub, blood flowing from both arms.

“Cas,” his eyes welled up with tears, as he reached out to his neck, hoping to whoever was up there that he still had a pulse.

“God, Cas, what did you do?” He pressed his fingers into his neck harder, not liking the stillness he felt.

Dean peeled his shirt off in an instant, ripping it in half, “You’re gonna be okay,” he swiped at his eyes as he wrapped the shirt around his arms, “y-you have to be okay. Don’t worry, buddy. I’ll fix this,” his eyes scanned the room for something he could use to make him okay, I need you to be okay, “I’ll fix you. I can-”

He cut himself off and reached for the piece of paper that was on the sink, sliding it out from under the razor. He swiped at his eyes as he brought it down to his face,

Dean,

I’m sorry.

C

A strangled cry made it’s way past Dean’s lips as he pulled the limp body toward him, crushing it against his chest, “No, no, no, baby. Y-you? Y-you don’t-”

He buried his head into the shorter-mans’ hair, tears dampening the strands.

“I-I’m sorry, too.”


Need a less tear-inducing ending? Check out the original!

Want to read more? Check out other stories here!

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.


Like this fic? Check out more here!

What We Get To Be




Happy New Year everybody!

Hope you all had an awesome holiday break, and are ready to get back into the swing of things.

Posting will continue on with it’s regular schedule. (TAFs every other Friday [next fic Feb. 22nd, etc.], articles every other Monday [Feb.11th, 25th, etc.] , and Product Reviews every 13th of the month)

This is this years’ Valentine’s Day fic. Hope you enjoy the Valentine’s holiday whether you’re with that special someone, a group of friends, or are rockin’ stag.

This fic was inspired by the song Rewrite The Stars from The Greatest Showman. Specifically the lyric: It’s up to you, and it’s up to me, no one can tell us what we get to be.

You can listen to the song here.

Written: 19.01.18

Words: 299

NFF


“Fuck!” She ended the call and slammed the counter.

“Uh, is everything okay?”

The voice from behind her made her jump, heart beating faster as she saw it was him, please, not today. He leaned down on the counter, a smidge too close for someone who was just a ‘friend’.

“I’m fine, I mean… I can handle it,” she shoved her phone back into her pocket and did her best not to squirm under his gaze.

“I know you better then that,” he brushed his hand against her arm, dropping his voice, “You need a place to stay, don’t you?”

She took a breath and slid her arm away, “You know I can’t let you do that.”

“Says who?”

“Pfft,” she gestured broadly to the rows of desks outside the small kitchenette, “Take your pick.”

“You think I care what they think?”

“You should, if it got out that you were even thinking about being with me, it’d-”

“Hey,” he moved himself closer again, this time placing his hands on her shoulders, “let me worry about the press. You just worry about getting yourself to my place.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, “I won’t be known as the one who wrecked your reputation!” she took a few steps back, turning her back to him as she felt her eyes fill with tears, “You’d never forgive me.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder, and she savoured the comfort it brought. After a moment, she took a deep breath and turned back around, “You know if you do this there’s no going back, right?”

“If being with you is gonna wreck my reputation,” he pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead, ignoring the gasps that came from behind him, “then it’s a reputation I don’t want to have.”


Like this story? Check out more here!

Countdown




Happy New Year!

This is the last fic of the year! Next fic will be posted Jan. 11th

NFF

Words: 826


Okay, tonight’s the night, we’ve been dancing around each other all year, he felt his palms get sweaty as he tried to psyche himself up, starring at the girl from across the room. It’s New Years Eve for Christs’ sake, people always kiss on New Years… don’t they? He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on his pants, okay, here we go.

He took a step forward, before being stopped by his – extremely drunk – friend, Pete.

“Hey, Dave!” even over the blaring music he could tell his friend was yelling, “You kiss ‘er yet?”

The brunette promptly smacked his hand across Petes’ mouth and dragged him a few feet away, shaking his head, “Can you keep your voice down?”

Pete nodded, eyes wide with surprise. He removed his hand, before immediately looking back at the girl. Pete turned to look before letting out a huff, “You ain’t just gonna stare at ‘er all night, are ya?”

“No,” Dave shifted his weight, “I’m gonna kiss her. At midnight.”

“At midnight?” Pete let out a bark of a laugh, “That’s some rom-com shit, ya know that?”

“No it’s not,” He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling his cheeks heat up, “People kiss at midnight all the time.”

“Yeah,” Pete swayed slightly on his feet, wrapping an arm over his shoulders’, “If they’re goin’ out, maybe. Not out of the blue. That’s just weird,” he took another swig from his cup, looking at the girl with a sigh, “Kissin’ a stranger at midnight… pfft…”

Dave chewed his lip, maybe he’s right, maybe… wait, why am I taking his advice? He flicked his eyes back to his friend, “How would you know?”

Pete blinked in confusion, “Huh?”

“How would you know what’s weird? You’ve never kissed a girl before.”

“Dave, my man,” Pete turned so he was standing directly in front of him, “Ya don’t gotta kiss ‘em to do other stuff,” he wiggled his eyebrows, shit-eating grin splitting his face, “know what I’m saying?”

“Ugh,” Dave pushed his arm off him, “You’re disgusting.”

Pete shrugged, stumbling away, “But I’m right!”

“Here we go everybody!” The whole place went silent and everyone turned their gazes’ to the clock, “10!”

Dave shook his head, it’s almost midnight already? Shit. He took a deep breath before starting toward her, here goes nothing.




 

She spotted him halfway across the room, starring at her. She quickly looked away, unable to help but smile, please come over, please come over, please come over…

“Hello? Emily?”

She turned back to her friend, hiding the blush by taking a drink, “Sorry, what?”

Lola rolled her eyes, “Of course you weren’t listening,” she flicked her eyes over to the boy before sighing, “This is getting ridiculous. Just go talk to him!”

“I can’t!” She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, “We haven’t really talked all year and then suddenly I want to kiss him at midnight? It’d be too weird.”

“You what?” Lolas’ face lit up, “You want him to kiss you at midnight?”

“What? No, I didn’t-”

“Shay! Katy, get over here!” Lola all but pulled their two friends to the ground with her force, “She wants him to kiss her at midnight!”

“Aaawww!”

Emily sighed, oh great… all three girls starred at her expectantly, “… Must we?”

“Yes.”

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to another, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course it’s a big deal!” Katy shrieked, “Your first kiss ever is on New Year’s Eve at midnight?” she touched her heart, “It’d be so cute!”

Emily pretended to vomit, before giving her a pointed look.

“Oh, come on, Em,” Shay gave her a pointed look, “You can’t act like you aren’t excited.”

“Yes, I can.”

“Here we go everybody! 10!”

“You’re allowed to get butterflies when you like a boy, y’know,” Lola placed her hands on her shoulders, dropping her voice, “You are a girl.”

“9!”

“Get off of me,” she slipped out from under her hands before shrugging, “I don’t know why you guys are making such a big deal about this-”

“8!”

“We haven’t even talked the whole party, and it’s practically midnight. It’s not gonna happen, so just forget it.”

“7!”

The girls’ faces fell but they all nodded. They all wrapped her up in a hug, and she fought the sudden wave of sadness that washed over her.

“6!”

Emily shook her head, trying to shake the sadness away as she turned her attention to the clock, “5!”

Guess there’s always next year.

“4!”

She felt a tap on her shoulder, heart stopping as she saw Dave, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. “Uhm… hi.”

“3!”

“A-are you okay? Do you need something?” She swore she could hear her heart hammering against her chest.

“2!”

He took a deep breath, before nodding to himself. He grabbed the sides of her face, sending a shiver down her spine, oh my God…

“1!”


Like this fic? Check out more here!