The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk as he stepped through the doorway, “Why not?”
“Because of the r-restraining order.” She swallowed hard and took a few steps backward, how did he find me?
“Pfft, please.” He waved a dismissive hand and veered into the living room, inspecting it, “You thought a piece of paper was gonna stop me?”
She did her best to ignore the sudden pounding in her chest as he stopped in front of the end table that was displaying all the figurines he used to make her hide, “I can have a dozen cops here in a second.”
“Yeah?” He cocked his head to one side as he picked up one of the cow figurines, “Neat trick.”
“A-all I have to do is scream.” She mentally beat herself up for the shake in her voice and licked her lips in a failed attempt to stop it, “There’s already a car outside.”
The chuckle that floated through the air next sent ice down her spine. He replaced the figurine before turning away from the small table – action allowing her to glimpse the knife that was tucked into his waistband – and he raised an eyebrow, “Do you honestly think if that not-so-undercover car was still there, they would’ve let me walk in?”
Started as a Song!Fic, based on the BC Jean version of If I Were a Boy. (Listenhere!)
Started: 17.08.01
Worked On: 22.02.02, 22.03.04
Finished: 25.08.25
Words: 5,243
NFF, Dark-ish
“Didn’t I make myself clear last night?” Benny hissed into the phone, closing the bathroom door behind him.
“Oh, I heard what you said. I just thought I should give you a chance to change your mind.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Silly me, didn’t I tell you? That camera that’s in the corner of my bedroom? It was accidentally on during our ‘meeting’ yesterday.”
Sonofa- “What do you want?”
“Guess.”
He sucked his teeth, “I don’t have time for your shit, Nikki.”
“Oh, okay, guess I’ll just send the tape to your wife then. Have a good-”
“Wait,” he took a deep breath, damn it, “what do you want me to do?”
—
“I thought I was stuck with you all day?”
“Well,” he shrugged himself into a button up, keeping his back to her, new boulder of guilt settling into his stomach, “now you won’t be.”
“Great…”
He licked his lips as he heard the hurt in her voice, just one more lie.He breathed out a sigh as he started buttoning his shirt, what was I thinking, agreeing to her stupid demands? It’s always the ‘one more’ that gets you caught…
Maybe he shouldn’t be doing this.
He shook his head, I have to if Iwant any shot at keeping her. He pulled his watch off the dresser before taking a breath, steeling himself as he turned back around to face his wife. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut when he saw her face. Iswear, I’m trying to do the right thing.
“I’m sorry,” he closed the distance between them and pecked her cheek, “it’s not like I can not go.”
“I know.” She rested her head against the door frame as she sighed, “I was just looking forward to getting sick of your face today.”
He gave her a tight smile before moving passed her, heading for the steps, “I won’t be too long. One, two hours max.”
Dean hastily shook his worried thoughts away and whipped his head up, just in time to see his daughter launch herself at him.
“Whoa!” He caught her easily, and it took all his strength to plaster his signature thousand-watt smile on his face as she crushed herself into his chest, “It went that well, huh?”
He scanned the hall of the courthouse, spotting the new social worker and Tyler making their way over as the rest of the courtroom let out. Dean turned hopeful eyes to the social worker, who just shook his head.
No… Dean subconsciously tightened his grip on his daughter and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, closing his eyes in a desperate attempt to keep his tears at bay, they can’t do this.
“I-I tried, Daddy.” Taylor’s trembling voice was like a stake through his heart, “I-I told them everything but they-they….”
“Hey,” Dean forced himself to take in a deep breath and reluctantly backed her up enough he could see her face. He wiped the tears that were tracing down her cheeks with his thumb, “This is not your fault, you hear me? None of it.”
Her bottom lip was poked out and her eyes filled with fresh tears, “B-but I failed!”
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Sam forced himself to turn his gaze to the floor, off his brother’s face. He knew he wouldn’t understand, that he was sick of dealing with this – hell, Sam was sick of seeing him – but not talking about his hallucination wasn’t working anymore. He had to tell someone he trusted.
And there was no one he trusted more than his brother.
He couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. He had been standing on the precipice of going off the deep end for months, and he just… couldn’t do it anymore. Not alone.
So yes, even though he knew it hurt, he had to say something.
But he wasn’t prepared for the look on his brother’s face.
It was a look he’d become all too familiar with. The same look he gave him when he left for Stanford, the same one he got when he chose Ruby… that heartbreaking mix of shock, sadness and utter disappointment.
The ‘I don’t even know who you are anymore’ look.
No matter how old he got, or how much shit they’d gone through, that look always managed to whither the giant. It was like he was suddenly five years old again, getting caught stealing the last cookie.
“I…”
Sam closed his eyes, not daring to look up from the floor. The trailed off sigh hit him right in the heart, “D-don’t…” Sam took in a shuddering breath and held up one of his hands, “you don’t need to say anything. I just thought you should know.”
An incredulous chuckle escaped the blonde then, and he heard the rustling of his sweater fabric as he ran a hand through his hair, “Oh gee, you think? Jesus, Sam…”
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Okay, Winchester, keep it together. Dean hurried around the motel room, ripping the newspaper clippings and thumb tacks off the wall. He shoved them into a large garbage bag as he flicked his eyes up to the clock on the wall, damn it.
Lydia was going to be there with the twins any second and the place was not rid of all hunting materials yet. Dean sped up his cleaning of the walls, kicking his duffle of weapons under the bed as he passed.
After that disaster of a picnic last summer he was sure they were never going to let him see the kids again. He had no idea how, but Cas had managed to convince Lydia – and the rest of Child Services – to give him another chance. So he’d been re-granted supervised visitation.
Lydia made it abundantly clear that this was the very last chance he was going to get. If he fucked it up, they would take the kids away – from both him and Cas – some bullshit about Cas enabling his detrimental effect on them – so Dean had been on his absolute best behaviour. No hunting stories, no weapons, hell, he even got Taylor to stop calling chocolate covered peanuts ‘bullets’. Albeit temporarily.
He was not going to blow this.
He had finally managed to work his way back up to this hopefully being the last supervised visit. If all went well today, he’d be allowed to see the kids without a chaperone. He had the place all ready two days ago – everything that could be considered hunting paraphernalia had been expertly hidden and stashed in the secret compartment of the trunk.
And then a Wendigo popped up.
Dean thought he’d have plenty of time to find it and light the bastard up before the visit, but unfortunately, because it was still January, this one was mostly still hibernating, which was making him hard to track. Every time Dean got close enough to even sniff a trail, it’d go cold.
The knock at the door made the hunter jump, “Uh, just a second!” He quickly shoved the garbage bag under the bed next to the duffle and gave the room one more once over as he made his way over to the door. He nodded to himself before taking in a deep breath as he opened it, “Hi guys!”
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“No, not the car game.” Dean shook his head as he grabbed the other juice box, “Well, you’re gonna learn today. Okay?”
All trace of her tears were gone as she enthusiastically nodded, “Okay!”
“Okay, so first,” He punctured his own juice box, before placing his knife down, “you stab a hole in the drink.”
“Okay…”
“Next is the fun part. You chug it down as fast as you can and try to beat the other guy.” Dean picked his juice box up, raising an eyebrow, “Wanna try?”
“Try? Pfft, please.” Taylor grabbed one of the juice boxes, giving the blonde a mischievous grin, “I’ll beat you.”
“Oh, you think so, eh?” Dean shook his head, “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Sweetheart. I’ve been shot-gunning drinks a lot longer than you.”
“True, but you’re like a billion,” A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth at the offended look, “I’m young.”
Dean couldn’t help but smile at her logic, “Alright, Ms. Cocky. Does that mean you’re ready?”
She hunched forward, fingers twitching around the sides of the drink, face growing serious, “Ready.”
Dean snaked a hand around his own drink, unable to help but smile at her intensity. He took in a big breath and lifted the box, “Go!”
“No fair!” Taylor fumbled for a minute before bringing her juice box up to her mouth, messily chugging down the purple liquid.
She tilted her head in an attempt to keep an eye on her competition, effectively spilling more of the quick-staining liquid onto her dress.
Dean flicked his eyes over to her as he swallowed for the first time and resisted the urge to shake his head, Cas is gonna kill me.
“Oh my God!”
Dean’s head whipped up at the startled cry from in front of them and lowered his juice box as he saw a soccer mom whip out her phone, eyes transfixed on the knife that was laying beside him.
“No, wait!” Dean fell over himself as he attempted to stand, “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Yes?” A breathless Cas ripped the door open then, giant smile on his face fading to confusion as he spotted the blonde, “What are you doing here?”
Dean plastered his signature thousand-watt smile on his face and did his best to ignore the stab to his heart at the tone, “It’s Friday.”
“Yeah…so?”
“So, I’m here to pick up the twins.” The pit in his stomach started to grow as he took in the lack of understanding on the angel’s face, “Y’know… like we agreed?”
Cas let out a defeated sigh, “Lydia didn’t call you?”
“I don’t know, I was on a job and haven’t…” Dean let his voice trail off as the confusion on Cas’ face slowly gave way to pity, “What happened?”
“Dean-”
“They’re still coming with me, aren’t they?”
The angel let out another huff, lowering his eyes to the ground.
“Are you serious?” Dean’s hand balled into a fist in his pocket, “Tell me you’re joking.”
At the small head shake, Dean let out a humourless chuckle, “That’s great. Awesome, Cas, thanks.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, “Fine, fine. I guess I’ll just come back next week and then we can-”
“No, Dean.” Cas shook his head again, “You’re not seeing them next week, either.”
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Important: This is the 4th last story of 2022! I’ll be taking the last half of December and first half of January off from posting. I’ll be back January 13th, 2023 (9am, ET) with the first post of the new year!
Started: 20.08.02
Finished: 22.08.11
Words: 2,448
NFF, Dark-ish, 2022’s 1st Halloween story
“Dale? You here?”
She peers into the room, maybe he left already… aw, well guess I’ll just te- she stops, half-turned, as a glimpse of something catches her eye. She takes a few steps into the room, brows furrowing as her eyes zone in on the small red streak that was standing out on one of the white walls, what the…?
She takes a few steps closer, it looks like… blood? She bends her head to get a better look, is this real blood? She feels a boulder settle into her stomach, suddenly uneasy. She straightens back up, shaking her head, no, there’s no way that’s real. He probably just got fake blood on the wall when he was changing.
They took the vest off him before he left set, though. She chews her lip for a moment, pulling out her phone, before snapping a picture of the smear, just in case. She’s unable to shake the uneasy feeling as she heads back to the door, shaking her head at her herself, just because you’ve been playing a detective doesn’t mean everything around you is a conspiracy.
She jumps as she nearly walks into the director, “Oh, shit, sorry.”
“What were you doing in there?”
“Nothing,” why does he sound… angry? She points a thumb over her shoulder, doing her best to sound nonchalant, “I was gonna say bye to Dale, but it looks like he took off already.”
“Yeah, he left.”
“O-okay,” she skirts around him, this season must’ve finally caught up with him. She flashes him a big smile, “Well, enjoy your time off.”
She turns around and heads for the exit at the end of the hall, feeling his eyes still on her, that was definitely weird… She lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in as she burst through the door, being greeted by a wall of thick, sticky, heat. I hate the summer, she makes her way to her car, climbing into the back, smiling at her driver.
“Where to?”
“Where do you think?”
He chuckles as he turns the key, “Yes, Ma’am.”
She sets her purse down on the seat beside her, unable to shake the image of the blood on the wall, I’m probably over-reacting. Not everything is a clue I need to unravel. I’ll text Dale once I get home, and then I’ll feel stupid when he answers. She turns to stare absently out the window, I shouldn’t let this non-mystery ruin my time off.
—
“Well?” She turns expectant eyes to her best friend, “There’s no way it’s a coincidence, right?”
Her friend shakes her head slowly, “I don’t know…” She tosses the piece of paper down on the newspaper that was on the table between them, “Just because he hasn’t been seen in public doesn’t mean something happened. Maybe he’s just taking a private vacay?”
“Oh, please.” She grabs the newspaper, eyes searching the text again, “When have you ever known Dale to be this private? The man doesn’t even own blinds!”
