Tag Archives: throw away fics

I’ll Wreck This If I Have To




Started: 16.11.11

Finished: 19.07.18

Words: 4,273

Gen., Wee!Chester, Destiel (implied)


“Rachel smells bad.”

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

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

“But who’s Rachel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Motel?”

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

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

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

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

“I do not think you’re cute.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Cas, what’s going on?”

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

“Cas? What’re you doing?”

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

“Cas-”

“Go.”

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

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

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

“Dean?”

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

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

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

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

“Who’s doing that?”

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

“What happened to the bedroom?”

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

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

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

“Took me…what?”

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

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

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

“Dean, are you alright?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C’s?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“De?”

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

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

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

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

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

Definitely gotta be Dream Root, “… Sammy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




 

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

“I know you’re under there.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’re you writing about me?”

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

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

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

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

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

Years?”

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

“…What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, why not?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“… My story was in this bag?”

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

“Leaking words?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, do what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?”

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Ow!”

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

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

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

He took in a deep breath before nodding.

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


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How Wild It Was (To Let It Be)




Special thanks to Cheryl Strayed, for letting me use the quote from her book Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail (check it out here) for the title of this fic.

Started: 15.11.17

Worked On/Finished: 17.08.15, 19.07.17

Words: 1,955

Crown (CrowleyxDean), Hallucifer


“Hello boys.”

Shit, Sam turned as the Scot. popped into the room, stepping in front of his brother so he could continue picking the lock.

“What are you doing here?”

“I assume you know what I want?”

Sam scoffed and reached inside his jacket for the angel blade, “The only way we’d ever give you the tablet, is if we were dead.”

The shorter man peered around the brunette to the man kneeling on the floor, unamused, “Squirrel, I know your brother is big, but I can still see you.”

Sam held the blade out in front of him and took a step forward, “Leave.”

Crowley huffed and rolled his eyes, “May I speak with the competent one please?”

“The only reason we kept you alive,” the giant took another step closer and straightened to his full height, “was because you were useful. I’d suggest, shutting up before you wear out your welcome.”

“Moose, why don’t you let the grown-ups talk for a while, yeah?”

Sam flinched at the snap of his fingers, but upon not hearing anything snap, he smirked and went to continue. His eyes bulged as no sound came out, he tried again but still nothing. The brunette opted for crossing his arms and glaring at the Scot.

Dean finally turned around, and got up off the floor, taking in his brothers’ bitchface before turning to the demon, “Really? You’re stealing voices now? Who are you, Ursula?”

“Give me, what I want,” the shorter man closed the gap between them, eyes locked on the blonde, “or you won’t get a chance to regret it.”

With that, he disappeared.

“Dick,” Dean shook his head and turned to his brother, “you okay?”

Sam nodded, “Let’s head back to the motel,” he shouldered their duffle bags before heading toward the exit.

“We’re just gonna abandon this?” Dean gestured to the door he’d been working on.

“We can deal with that later,” he threw one of the duffle bags at him, “I need a shower.”

 

 

“Finally,” Sam ran straight to the bathroom, tossing his duffle onto one of the beds.

“Don’t take forever in there, Samantha. Some of us actually got dirty,” Dean shut the door behind them and headed to the fridge.

Sam flipped him off before locking the door behind him. A second later, Dean heard the water turn on. He padded over to the table and plopped himself down in the chair before twisting the cap off and taking a swig of beer. He sighed and closed his eyes, finally. He relaxed for all of five seconds before he heard the water turn back off and the bathroom door open.

Sam popped his head out the door, “What was up with that?”

Dean sighed and put his beer down, “What was up with what, Sammy?”

“Crowley,” he heard his brother take a few steps out into the room.

“How should I know?”

“I don’t think he was talking about the tablet.”

“Okay, and?”

And doesn’t that seem suspicious to you? That means he’s not after the tablet.”

Just once, can he let something go? The blonde ran a hand down his face, “I repeat; and?”

“Well, don’t you think that if there is something else he’s after we should, I don’t know, be looking for it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you think it could be?”

“I don’t know, Sammy,” Dean opened his eyes and turned to his brother, “It could be a lot of things. It could be nothing. We can’t sit around all day and wonder ‘what if we missed something’ every time someone accuses us of having something we don’t.”

Sam looked taken aback and raised his hands in mock surrender, “Okay, okay, jeez. I just thought it was something worth mentioning. What crawled up your ass?”

The eldest sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “Nothing… I’m just covered in sweat and cobwebs and dirt from the grave we dug earlier and I’d rather not have this conversation right now.”

“I just think-”

“Sam, it’s Crowley. He likes screwing with us, remember?”

The brunette gave his brother a skeptical look but kept his mouth shut. He walked the few steps back to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

 

 

“Where’s your brother?”

“He’s out on a food run,” Dean got up from the table and threw his empty beer in the trash.

Crowley looked around the room and took a few steps closer to the hunter, “You know why I’m here?”

“Yeah, I know why,” Dean walked forward, meeting the demon halfway, no more than a few inches away from him.

“Good,” he smiled, “then you’ll give me what I want?”

The blonde grabbed the front of his suit and swung him around into the wall, slamming him hard into it before getting close enough to smell the whisky on his breath. The demon let out a startled cry and struggled uselessly against his grip.

“You think, that just because you showed up, I’d give you what you wanted?”

Crowley blinked in surprise and stammered mutely for a minute.

“Because if you did,” he leaned impossibly closer, “you’d be right.”

In the next instant, the demon felt the Winchesters’ lips on his own. The hunter pressed his body against him, squishing him harder into the wall, pulling a deep moan from the demon.

The blonde stepped back, letting him fall to the ground, panting and smirked down at him.

“Wh-what was that?”

Dean didn’t respond, instead opting to take him by the collar again and drag him back to his feet, turning him around before letting him stumble out of reach.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Crowley’s shocked look only made the hunter’s smile grow wider, as he closed the distance again, “Won’t Moose be back soon?”

“We’ve got time,” Dean pushed the demon backward and he felt his back hit the bed.

Crowley gaped at him, “I don’t think-”

“Shut up.”

Crowley eased himself up the bed, trying to put distance between himself and the hunter, but didn’t respond. Dean smiled before crawling onto the bed after him.

“Squirrel-”

“This,” he cut the demon off, before getting onto his knees, undoing his belt, “is for what you did to Sammy.”




“Sam, go get me pie.”

“I don’t want to get you pie.”

“Damn it Sam! I need pie!”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to go out in this freezing-ass weather for pie!” he slammed his fist down on the dashboard as he pulled into the parking lot.

Stupid Dean, he got out of the car and headed for the store.

“C’mon Sam, he just wanted some pie.”

“Jesus!” the hunter jumped at the sudden voice.

He noticed a few customers jump at his outburst, rolling his eyes before walking faster.

“Why’re you so jumpy? It’s just me,” the fallen angel smirked as he followed him in.

“Well excuse me for not being used to you yet,” he grumbled as he picked up a basket.

He raised an eyebrow at the frown on the angels’ face.

“We’re not getting a cart?”

“We don’t need one, I’m only getting one thing.”

“But,” the blonde turned his gaze to the floor, poking out his bottom lip, “I want to ride in it.

“Get one yourself then,” he began walking away.

“I can’t be in it and push it around!”

“Guess you’re not getting one then,” he called over his shoulder.

“Please, Sam?”

Sam stopped dead and turned around, eyes wide, did he really just…?

“Please?”

He nodded and watched as the fallen angels’ face lit up before he bounced over to the nearest cart, plopping himself inside, ear-splitting grin on his face. Sam made his way over, putting the basket back down before grabbing the cart. Sam gave his happy expression a once over and chuckled.

Lucifer turned himself around so he was facing the hunter, “What?”

“Nothing, you just look pretty happy in a cage,” he started toward the bakery.

Luce looked at the cart on either side of himself before winking at the hunter, “I am.”

 

 

“A-are you sure,” Crowley panted, turning to face Dean, “that that was because I took away your brothers’ voice?”

“Okay, you caught me,” the blonde smirked and stretched himself out with a yawn, “not all of that was payback for Sam. But the handcuffs and chilli pepper was.”

Crowley shook his head and chuckled, “I had a feeling.”

“What? I can be creative.”

“Not that creative, darling. That was more… pain than pleasure.”

“You still seemed to enjoy it.”

“Of course I enjoyed it,” he shot the hunter a sly smile before slipping out of bed, “I am a demon, after all.”

Dean propped himself up on one elbow, eyes roaming over the bruises and scrapes that littered his back. He chewed his lip for a minute, turning over the question in his head before finally nodding to himself, “This is what you were asking for, right?”

Crowley stopped, pants halfway up his legs and turned, raising an eyebrow at the hunter, “Did we not just establish some of that was new territory?”

“No,” the hunter sat up, “I mean, when you popped in on me and Sam at the house… You said you wanted us to give you something. I was assuming you meant this, but if there’s another tablet or relic out there we need to-”

“Uh-uh,” Crowley picked up his suit jacket, flicking it out before slipping it on, “Nothing you need to concern yourself with, darling.”

“Crowley,” Dean got up off the bed, “Did you find something else?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” the demon turned, straightening the lapels of his suit with a smile, “You boys are going after exactly what you should be.”

The hunter eyed him for a moment, trying to get a read on him – which after being at odds with each other for literal years and sleeping together the passed few months – was still next to impossible, when he heard the Impala pull into the driveway.

His eyes shot to the window, watching the headlights stream in through the closed blinds, “You should-” he cut himself off as he turned back and found himself in an empty room.

Sam came in the door, dopey smile wiped off his face and he covered his nose with his free hand, “Jeez, dude!” He made his way over to the small table in the corner, nodding toward the elders’ bed, “Guess now I know why you were so desperate to get rid of me.”

“You were only gone fifteen minutes,” Dean ran a hand through his hair as he approached his brother, snatching the bag of food from him, “What kind of a chump do you think I am?”

Sam gave his brother a pointed look, “Just… put a sock or something on the door next time.”

“Hey!” Dean pouted as his burger was ripped from his hands, “What the hell?”

The youngest pulled his t-shirt over his nose, “Dude, seriously.”

Dean rolled his eyes before getting up from the table, making his way over to the bathroom. Once inside, he sniffed himself, nearly gagging, okay, maybe he was right. He turned the water on and began to strip, guess that’s what happens when you use food.

“Not quite.”

The voice made the hunter jump and spin around, surprised to see the demon perched on the toilet seat, “Are you crazy? Sam is right outside!”

Crowley smirked, getting up to pat his face, “Oh Squirrel, still so much to learn.”

“Will you keep your voice down?”

“That sweet, sulphuric stench,” he continued, taking a few steps forward, forcing the hunter toward the shower, “Is what happens when you fuck a demon.”


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Contact High

Based on the Brad Paisley song of the same name. (Listen to it here)

Words: 667

Written: 19.05.13

NFF, Song!Fic


She felt her breath catch in her throat, as she locked eyes with the man on stage, I can’t believe it. She was momentarily stunned, unable to move as she watched him play, and she could’ve sworn the faintest smile crossed his face as he looked in her direction.

No, don’t be silly, she began moving through the crowd again, hoping to find an empty table, it’s all just part of his set. There’s no way he saw me through all these people. She situated herself at the small corner table in the back, mildly surprised to see it empty. She hopped up on the stool, before turning her attention back to the man on the stage, smiling as she watched him play, do I want him to see me?

She watched him in silence for a moment, heart fluttering as he closed his eyes, still singing, damn he’s cute…

She shook her head, can you stop being such a girl? Geez… she felt her cheeks flare as she looked away, turning to look at all the couples who were dancing, hoping the dim lighting was enough to hide her blush.

“Y’all are such an amazing crowd! We’re gonna take a little break, and then we’ll get right back to it.”

She felt her face split into a smile as she heard his southern drawl, damn, I forgot about that. She turned back to the stage, taking a sip of her beer as she watched him and the band file down the stairs on the side of the stage.

Now’s my chance, she took in a deep breath, sitting up straighter before running a hand through her hair, just as he turned and saw her. She couldn’t help the smile on her face as he began making his way over, stay cool. He’s just a guy. A really hot, southern-accented guy…

“Hey you,” his smile widened as he got closer, giving her a once over, eyes sparkling, “Why didn’t you tell me you were comin’ out tonight?”

“Oh, yeah, well, y’know…” she mentally face-palmed, get it together, girl! She began picking at the skin around her nails, casting her gaze down, “I didn’t want to disappoint you if I ended up not coming out.”

He shook his head, “You think you could disappoint me? Pfft,” he slid into the opposite side of the booth, “So… what’d ya think?”

“Oh,” she felt her face heat up again, and she picked at the skin more forcefully, peeling a piece beside her thumb down, “I really only caught the last few seconds of the song. But it sounded pretty good.”

He took her hand in his, effectively stopping her picking, and got her to look him back in the eye, “How about I sing you another?”

“W-wh… j-just me? I’d love that, but I mean….” Damn it, I sound like an idiot!

His smile widened and he slid out of the booth, helping you out, hand still clasped in his, “I’ve been working on a new one…”

“Y-yeah?” She felt like her heart was in her throat as he led her toward the stage.

“I’ve been working on it all tour,” he didn’t stop until they were right in front of the stage. He spun around, suddenly nervous eyes scanning her face, “Tell me what you think?”

She nodded mutely, barely registering when he let go of her hand and started up the stairs to the stage, giving her a nervous smile. What is he nervous about…? She watched in fascination as he picked up his guitar, pausing a moment – with his back turned – to take in a deep breath before turning and walking to the mic.

“Alright, ladies, gentlemen,” he pulled a stool over and sat down, getting control of the noise in a matter of seconds, “I thought it’d be time to slow it down. Now, this is a brand new song I wrote,” he glanced down at her, that sparkling smile back, “for a very special woman.”


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One For The Memory, Two For The Pain




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

I hope you enjoy it!

Requested: 19.04. 25

Written: 19.05.02

Words: 1,897

Samifer, DemonBloodAddict!Sam, Hallucifer


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then why do you need them?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I-”

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

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

“Good, then go. I’ll deal with this.”

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

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

“I’m not-”

The devil pointed to the door, “Go.”

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

“Hey, Winchester!”

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

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

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

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

“How’d you get in here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam?”

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

“Sam?”

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

“Steaks are ready.”

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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(Red String of) Fate




Written: 19.02.01

Words: 730

Teen!Chesters, Abusive!Alcoholic!John,

TW: SH


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

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

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

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

“Dean!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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On The Pyre

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

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

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

Started: 16.04.29

Finished: 19.03.15

Words: 2,146

Samifer, Hallucifer


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

“Dean, I’m fine.”

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

What the hell are you doing?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you-”

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

“A hideout?”

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

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

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

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

“Your body.”

“My body?!”

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

“Wait, what do you mean restored?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like he doesn’t want the title.

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

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

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

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

“Sam-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

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

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

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

“Uh, Dean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Luce-”

“Dean’s waiting.”

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


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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.”


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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.”


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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!”


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Stay That Way

This is this years’ Christmas/holiday fic.

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


Wee!Chesters

Words: 2,111


“… What are you doing?”

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

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

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

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

“… Okay.”

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

“Hey, what am I? Chopped liver?”

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

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

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

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

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

“’Course.”

“But won’t Dad-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“John-”

“I said no!”

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

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

“He’s unconscious.”

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

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

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

“Go to the hospital.”

“We can’t.”

“Why?”

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

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

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




 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t believe you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, right. I knew that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bobby winked, “I helped with this part.”

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

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

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

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

“I know!”

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

“What?”

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


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