“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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“This thing…” Dean brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, “It feasts on livers – kid livers. And…”
After a moment of silence, Sam raised an eyebrow, “And…?”
“And you can supposedly hurt it by making it drink alcohol.”
Sam turned confused eyes to their father figure, “What?”
“Yep.” Dean nodded, “Alcohol literally burns the thing from the inside out. We think it’s tied to the feasting on kid livers but… there’s like zero lore on this thing. The only reason we know that is because of the coroner.” Dean gave a half-shrug, “Apparently they hunt in packs.”
Sam opened his mouth, only to close it a moment later in silence, brows furrowing as he turned over this new information.
Dean nodded at the look on his face, “Told you.”
Bobby let out a sigh before digging out his wallet, handing over a ten-dollar bill, “Yeah, yeah. Here.”
I hope you had an amazing, relaxing holiday season, and are as excited as I am to dive into all the new stories coming this year!
In case you forgot or missed the post, this year all the stories will have the same theme: National Food Days/Months! Each story will have the day/month I chose under the tags, and it will be written as Prompt: ______. (It will also be listed in the Previews/descriptions for each story)
I hope you guys enjoy reading this year-long challenge as much as I’m enjoying writing it!
Written: 22.10.26
Words: 1,175
General
Prompt: Gluten-Free Day
“What took you so long?”
Sam did his best to keep his eye roll at bay as he kicked the motel door closed, eyes flicking up to his brother as he attempted to keep the drinks and paper bags of food steady, “Nah, that’s okay, I got it.”
Dean didn’t bother hiding his eye roll as he closed the distance, snatching one of the bags out of the giant’s hand, “We were supposed to be on the road twenty minutes ago!”
Sam huffed, narrowly getting the food in his hands down on the small kitchen table without spilling any, “They had to bake more muffins.”
“You waited for that?” The blonde shook his head, crossing over to the closest bed, dropping the bag he’d snatched down on it as he kicked his duffle out from underneath, “We could’ve got something on the road.”
The giant ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to take in a deep breath, “You’re the one who told me to return with a muffin, or not to come back at all.”
“Well if I knew it was gonna take you forever…”
Sam took a sip from one of the coffees, pushing down the annoyance he felt bubbling up. They’d clearly been on the road too long. Luckily, this would be their last hunt for a while. Bobby needed them to watch the phones while he went to take care of something for Rufus.
Though Dean wouldn’t admit it, Sam could tell he needed a little down time, too. Or at least, Sam hoped being on the road too long was the reason he’d been acting like an entitled dick. The giant took another long sip from his coffee, relishing the warmth that spread through his chest as he swallowed it down. He reluctantly opened his eyes as he heard his brother huff.
The youngest watched as his brother tossed his duffle up onto his shoulder, snatching the paper bag containing his breakfast off the top of the bed, before stomping his way over to the door, “Wheels up in five.”
Sam barely had a chance to open his mouth before his brother disappeared out the door. He let out a long sigh as it swung closed, you’re welcome. He ran his hand through his hair as his eyes swept over the motel room, what are the chances he forgot something?
The giant grabbed his own duffle from underneath his bed before doing a quick final check of the bathroom. After a moment of grabbing Dean’s toothbrush, and confirming they weren’t leaving anything else behind, he shoved the toothbrush into his duffle. Once that was tightly zipped, he flung it up onto his shoulder, before grabbing both coffee’s and his own breakfast bag off the table.
With one more look around the room, he shut the door behind himself.
He swallowed thickly as he approached the car, not needing to see his brother’s expression to know something was wrong. As he got closer, he noticed his brother’s brows were furrowed. He shoved his duffle in the backseat before taking his place on the passenger side of the car. As soon as he got the coffee’s settled in the cup holders, he raised an eyebrow at his brother – who was staring with furrowed brows at the muffin his brother had bought him.
“What’s this?”
“A muffin.”
The blonde let out an impatient huff, “Yeah, I can see that,” he lightly shook the offending food with a roll of his eyes, “I mean what’s wrong with it?”
Sam looked between his brother’s face and the muffin in his hand for a moment, doing his best to keep the twitching corner of his mouth in check, “Is that a trick question?”
“Something’s wrong with it!” The blonde flung the object down onto the paper bag in his lap, gesturing for the giant to pass him the other bag, “Let me see yours.”
“Oookay,” Sam handed over his bag, brows furrowing, “They’re both the same.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” Dean dug his brother’s muffin out of his bag, scrutinizing it with the careful examination only a non-trusting sibling had. After a minute of looking it over, his shoulders deflated, “They’re the same.”
“Told you.”
“Well,” The blonde tossed the muffin back at his brother – who barely caught it before it hit the floor – before running a hand through his hair, “well what the hell?”
Sam was careful to keep his tone level, “What do you think is wrong with them?”
“I don’t know,” Dean shook his head before jamming the key into the ignition, making the car roar to life, “They just look… off.”
“I had to wait for them to finish baking.”
“Not old off, just…” The blonde pulled out of the motel parking lot, turning down the road before shaking his head again, “I don’t know. Never mind.”
“Okay.” Sam turned to look out his window, taking a bite from his muffin, it doesn’t taste weird to me. Chocolate chip, as requested.
They drove in silence for a moment, before Dean slammed on the breaks, much to the giant’s dismay. He looked around wildly for a minute, and upon not seeing anything on the road, turned his eyes to his brother, “What the hell, dude?”
Dean pointed out the window, to the strip of shops on the opposite side of the street, “Is this the bakery you got the muffins from?”
“Yeah…” Sam’s brows furrowed in confusion at his brother’s groan, “Why?”
“I told you to go to George’s!”
“George’s is half an hour away!” The giant held his hands up in mock surrender, still not understanding what the big deal was, “We were in a hurry!”
Dean rolled his eyes before pulling the car back out onto the street, “I knew something was wrong with the muffins!”
“What do you think they did to them?”
The blonde shook his head, “It’s a gluten-free bakery, Sammy.”
“…So?”
“What do you mean ‘so’?” His brother gave him an incredulous look, as he tossed the offending bag into the backseat, “You thought I wasn’t gonna notice you trying to poison me?”
“Poison?” Sam’s jaw dropped, “It’s just a gluten-free muffin!”
“Exactly! Why bother making something out of wheat if you don’t want to eat wheat?”
“Uh, Celiac disease, gluten sensitivities, not to mention-”
“Look,” Dean huffed, knuckles going white around the steering wheel, “If other people want to eat rabbit food, more power to ‘em. But don’t try to feed that stuff to me.”
“Wha…?” Sam shook his head, forcing his next sentence to die on his lips. He took in a deep breath, running a hand through his hair, “Fine. Next time, I’ll go to the place you said to.” Even though it’s farther away.
“Good.” The blonde ran a hand down his face with a huff, “You can eat both of those sad excuses for baked goods.”
“Yeah, thanks.” The giant shook his head again before opting to look out his window, thank God we’re not that far from Bobby’s.
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Reminder: This is the 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 with the 1st fic of the new year!
Written: 22.08.10
Words: 499
Fluff, Destiel, 2022’s New Year’s fic
“Well I’d rather you did something I actually needed help with, like the decorations, or the appetizers, or warming the pie up in the-”
“Pie?” Dean raised an eyebrow, “You said the store didn’t have any pie.”
The shorter man huffed, “You really don’t listen, do you?” At the continued confused look, he shook his head, taking a few steps backward to finish his bowtie on his own, “I said the store didn’t have any, which is why I had to make them myself. I was in the kitchen baking all day yesterday! What did you think I was doing in there?”
Dean shrugged, moving to sit back on the bed, scratching his bare knee, “I don’t know. Making appetizers?”
This is the 2nd last story of 2022. I’ll be taking the last half of December, and first half of January offfrom posting. I’ll be back January 13th 2023, with the first story/post of the new year!
Written: 22.08.10
Words: 1,917
Fluff, Destiel (Implied), Sabriel (Implied), 2022’s Christmas story
“Daddy!”
Dean turned around at the excited yell, quickly tossing the box of Christmas tree ornaments he was holding onto the couch in order to catch the daughter who was running at him full speed.
She launched herself at him, giggling as he easily caught her, nearly taking the newly set up tree with him, “Hey, Sweetheart.” He shifted her in his arms, raising an eyebrow, “What’s got you so excited?”
“Dad said we can make cookies for Santa!”
“Oh, did he?” Dean flicked his eyes off his vibrating daughter to the raven-haired angel who was standing a few feet away, “And who did he say was going to the grocery store to-”
“Relax, Dean-O.” The new voice from behind him made the retired hunter turn around, semi-surprised to see Gabriel and his brother come out of the kitchen, holding up a grocery bag, “We already wrestled an old lady for the last bag of chocolate chips.” Gabriel unceremoniously tossed the bag toward the blonde, “All you have to do is bake them.”
“Me?” Dean let out an incredulous chuckle, flicking his eyes between the three men, “You guys expect me to bake? Don’t you remember what happened last ye-”
“Please, Daddy?” Taylor’s voice got him to look back at his arms, “Dad doesn’t make them right, and they need to be perfect for Santa.”
Dean let out a sigh as he stared into her big, round eyes, silently cursing his brother for teaching her puppy dog eyes. “Fine.”
“Yay!”
He winced at her loud shriek, unable to help the smile from splitting his face. He adjusted his grip on her, sliding the grocery bag partway up his arm as he started over toward the kitchen, “But if we’re baking,” he stopped in the doorway, pointing to the three men standing in the living room, “You guys are finishing the tree.”
—
“Are they done yet?”
Dean chuckled, catching his daughter as she tried to get closer to the oven, “Not yet, Sweetheart.”
“Ugh!” She let out an impatient groan and stomped her foot, “They’re taking forever!”
The blonde had to bite his cheek to keep the smile off his face as he flicked his eyes up to the clock, “It’s only been 10 minutes.”
“How much longer?”
“10 more.”
Taylor let out another loud groan, head falling back to look at the ceiling in annoyance, “But we made them so small!”
Dean shook his head, carefully letting his arm fall from her chest once he was sure she wasn’t gonna head butt the oven. He straightened up with a shrug, getting started on cleaning up the mess that was all over the kitchen island, “We gotta make sure they’re cooked. You don’t want to give Santa cookies that’ll make him sick, do you?”
Her eyes narrowed as she climbed up onto one of the stools at the island, watching the blonde, “I guess not.”
“Good. Cause kids who poison him don’t get presents.” He had to resist the urge to chuckle as he bent down to put the flour away at her gasp.
He straightened back up to see her staring at the closed oven door. She was staring so intently, it was as if she was attempting to will the cookies into baking faster.
He shook his head as he slid the small bowl with leftover cookie dough he put aside toward her, grabbing a spoon, “You know they won’t cook faster just because you want them to.”
“I know.”
Despite her matter-of-fact voice, she continued staring, much to the blonde’s amusement. He let out a dramatic sigh as he grabbed the wooden spoon off the counter, “Guess that means you don’t want to help me eat the rest of this, huh?”
That got her attention.
She raised her eyebrows in surprise as she noticed the bowl, and the wooden spoon that was now in front of her. Her brows furrowed slightly in confusion, and she tilted her head to the side, “I thought you said eating raw cookie dough would make you sick?”
Dean couldn’t hold back his mischievous grin as he dipped his spoon into the leftover batter, “I didn’t put eggs in this one.”
She didn’t seem all that convinced until he put the spoon of dough in his mouth. After watching him swallow it, she tentatively picked up the wooden spoon, taking a small scoop from the bowl. She cautiously brought the spoon to her mouth, eyes not leaving the blonde.
Dean chuckled and lowered himself down to rest one arm against the counter as he went in for another scoop, “Pretty good, eh?”
“Yeah…” She still seemed like she wasn’t sure if this was a test or not, but went in for another scoop, anyway.
They ate in silence for a few minutes, Dean flicking his eyes up to the clock every so often to make sure he didn’t burn the cookies.
Taylor huffed after a while, dropping her spoon into the bowl, holding her head in one hand.
“Relax, Sweetheart, they’ll be done soon.”
“They’re taking so long!”
Dean chuckled at that, “Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it?”
Taylor shrugged, keeping her eyes on the island, “Dad says I get that from you.”
“Oh, does he?” Dean chuckled again, reaching across the island to tickle her.
She shrieked with laughter and tried to wriggle away from his hand, but alas, the island wasn’t quite long enough to get her out of his reach without her getting off the stool.
“Daddy, no!” She turned her head from one side to the other, taking in some gasping breathes between her laughter, “Stop!”
He kept tickling for a little longer, stopping only once her face started to turn red. He looked up to the clock, smile splitting his face, perfect.
Dean made his way around the island toward the oven, taking the tray of cookies out. He carefully placed the tray down on top of the stove, inspecting the cookies.
Taylor was still trying to regain her breath as she jumped off the stool, taking a few steps toward the oven, “A-are they ready?”
Dean poked one with a toothpick, smiling as it came out clean, “Yep, they’re done.”
“Finally!”
He couldn’t help but chuckle as he picked the tray back up, walking it carefully over to the island. The blonde placed the tray down, sliding the oven mitt off his hand as he reached for the cooling rack with the other.
Taylor watched in wide-eyed fascination as he moved the cookies onto the rack. After a few moments of intense staring with her mouth open, he raised an eyebrow, “You’d think you’ve never seen me make cookies before.”
“These ones are special.” She rolled her eyes, “They’re for Santa!”
“Yeah,” He finished placing them onto the rack, before spinning around to place the tray in the sink, “But until he eats them they’re still just regular cookies.”
“Can we put them on the plate me and Tyler made last year?”
“Sure.” He walked the few steps over to the plate cupboard, pulling out the crudely drawn Santa and reindeer painted plate, sliding it across the island, “We have to wait until the cookies are done cooling before moving them, though.”
“Ugh!” She threw up her hands, letting out another annoyed groan, “More waiting?”
Dean chuckled at that, nodding, “Unless you want Santa to get soggy cookies…” At her look, he nodded toward the door, “Why don’t you go see if Dad and Uncle Sam need help with the tree?”
She crossed her arms over her chest, giving the blonde a pointed look, “I’m too short to decorate the tree.”
“Riiight,” He came back over, sliding himself across the island, lowering his voice, “Then why don’t you grab your brother and see if you can find where Dad and I hid your presents?”
Her face lit up at that, and she leaned toward him, “I thought Dad said you didn’t get us any.”
He gave her a pointed look, lowering his voice further, “Dad lied.”
Her jaw dropped open in surprise at that, eyebrows disappearing under her bangs, “Whoa.” She leaned impossibly closer, eyes sparkling, “Where are they?”
The blonde chuckled at that and he leaned back, shaking his head, “It wouldn’t be much fun if I told you, would it?”
She was bouncing with barely contained excitement, “At least give me a hint!”
“Fine,” Dean flicked his eyes up to the closed kitchen door, “You didn’t hear it from me, but you know that square on the ceiling at the end of the upstairs hall?”
“Yeah…”
He gave her a shrug and a wink, “If I were you, I’d start there.”
Her face broke out into a big smile at that, and she all but ran out of the kitchen, nearly smacking Cas in the face with the door as she exited.
“Taylor, slow down!” Cas shook his head as he made his way into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow, “Do I want to know what that was about?”
Dean waved a dismissive hand, coming around the front side of the island, “Don’t worry about it.”
Cas chuckled as the retired blonde wrapped him up in his arms, “Uh-oh.”
“No, no uh-oh.” The blonde placed a kiss to his cheek before backing out of the hug, making his way over to the sink, “Everything’s fine.”
The raven-haired man snorted, “Yeah, cause I don’t know you well enough to know that’s bull.” He was smiling as he watched the blonde start on the dishes, “Hey, those can wait.”
Dean turned from the sink, raising an eyebrow, “The dishes can wait?”
“Yeah.”
“Christo.”
“Very funny, Dean,” Cas rolled his eyes, before holding out his hand, “Sam said he wanted to talk to you.”
“Pfft, send him in here.”
Cas took in a deep breath, eyes flicking skyward for a moment, before he nodded, “Fine.”
He disappeared back out the kitchen door, giant walking through a moment later.
“Hey, Sammy,” Dean nodded as he started scrubbing the tray, “What’s up?”
“Well, I didn’t want your hands to be covered in gunk when I handed it to you,” The giant made his way closer, sliding a slim newspaper wrapped package toward the edge of the sink, “But merry Christmas.”
The blonde raised an eyebrow, “You couldn’t put this under the tree with the rest of them?”
Sam huffed, “I didn’t want- can you just open it?”
“Okay, okay, geez.” Dean turned the water off, drying his hands on a spare towel, before flicking it up to rest it on his shoulder, “I’ll open it.” He picked up the package with one hand, other one slipping into one of the pockets of his apron, producing a similarly wrapped smaller package, “But you gotta open this one, too.”
The giant eyed his brother as he accepted his own gift, “This one couldn’t go under the tree?”
“Just shut up and open it, Bitch.”
“Jerk.”
The brother’s shared a smile before they went to work opening their respective gifts. They chuckled in unison as Dean unveiled skin mags, and Sam unwrapped beef jerky and car freshener.
Dean shook his head as he stared at his gift, “You know I have a husband now, right?”
Sam smacked his arm at that, “Does that mean you don’t want it?”
“Well, I didn’t say that.” Dean chuckled, rolling the magazine up before sliding it into his apron. He clapped his brother on the shoulder, “Merry Christmas, Sam.”
“Merry Christmas, Dean.”
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Reminder: This is the 3rd last story of 2022! I’ll be taking the last half of December and first half of January offfrom posting. I’ll be back January 13th, 2023 with the 1st story of the new year!
Originally From: 15.06.25
Rewritten: 20.06.02
Finished: 22.08.10
Funny, 2022’s 2nd Halloween story
“Excuse me, but have you seen my granddaughter?” She held up a worn picture, eyes focused on Dean.
“Uh,” Sam shot his brother a look and shook his head, “No, we haven’t. Sorry.”
The lady just stood there, staring at the blonde, apparently not hearing Sam.
Dean glanced at his brother before shaking his head, “Don’t think so. Sorry.”
The old lady deflated with disappointment, before placing the picture into her purse, “If you do, can you give me a call, Dean?”
“Yeah, of cour-” Dean cut himself off and shot his brother another look, “S-sorry,” He reached for the bottle of holy water in his jacket pocket, eyes flicking back to her, “what did you say?”
The lady looked at him, confused by his sudden change in demeanour, holding out a folded piece of paper, “Will you give me a call, dear?”
Dean stared at the paper for a moment. The old lady tilted her head to one side, letting out a small huff before she placed the piece of paper down on the table, sliding it across the table so it was in front of him. He looked down and saw a phone number written on it and let go of the water bottle, “Uhm… yeah, I-I guess.”
“Thank-you, dear.” She gave him a small smile before shuffling away, heading for the door.
Dean turned unsure eyes to his brother, “That was weird, right?”
Sam nodded, “Yeah, it was a little… odd.” He lowered his eyes to the paper sitting in front of his brother, brows furrowing, “Do you think she was a demon?”
Dean shrugged, “Since when are demons ever that polite?”
“Maybe it’s a new tactic? To… I don’t know, gain people’s trust?”
Important: There are only 4 more stories to come this year! I’ll be taking the last half of December and first half of January off from posting. I’ll be back January 13th, 2023 with the 1st story of the new year!
Started: 20.06.25
Finished: 22.07.04
Words: 1,647
General, 2022’s Thanksgiving fic
“Don’t forget the beer!”
Sam shook his head as he headed out the door, “When have I ever?”
He let out a sigh as he closed it behind him, making his way to the car, that was way too easy.
“Can you blame him?”
The voice made the hunter jump, and he internally groaned as he saw the devil, who fell into step beside him, “Must you do that every time?”
“No, but it’s more fun,” Lucifer gave him a smirk as they climbed into the car. He stretched his legs out on the dash, giving the hunter a sideways glance, “Remind me again why he thought cooking a whole Thanksgiving feast was a good idea?”
Sam shrugged as the car roared to life, “I think maybe with everything that’s happened, losing Cas, then Bobby…” he let out another sigh as they pulled on to the road, “I think maybe he just wanted some semblance of normal.” For once.
That made Lucifer snort, “Since when do you guys do normal?”
“Trust me, I’d much rather do our usual grocery store turkey sandwiches and beer,” Sam shook his head as he drove, “but Dean was adamant. And if it gets him out of the mood he’s been in, I say why bother fighting it?”
“I guess,” Lucifer nodded, bringing his hands up to rest behind his head, “But he does know he’s gonna need water to cook, right? And it’s not like you can buy a Leviathan filter at the store.”
Sam chuckled, “Why do you think I’m getting ten cases of beer?”
“Let’s go, Sammy!” Dean fired off another shot from his sawed-off, glancing quickly over his shoulder at the wall he was quickly being backed into.
After a moment of no response, shit, he glanced up to the other side of the warehouse, not seeing the giant – or the four demons that had surrounded him – in his last known location, shit-shit-shit.
“Hey, Dean!”
The not-brother voice off to his right got his attention back to the ghosts that were quickly surrounding him, jaw clenching as he spotted the Leader Demon had backed up to the door to the barn, “You leaving already?” Dean fired off another few shots at the ghosts, before turning back to the demon, who was now smirking, “And here I thought we were just warming up.”
“I wouldn’t be so cocky, if I were you,” the demon’s fingers danced along the latch that was holding the door closed, “Especially when I was just gonna warn you.”
Dean felt his back hit the wall as he went to fire another shot and the gun clicked, signalling it was empty, shit. He threw it off to the side before slashing through the closest ghost with the fireplace poker he had tucked in his jacket, “Warn me about what?”
The widening smirk on the demon’s face made his stomach drop as he threw the door open. The colour immediately drained from Deans’ face as he heard the low growls, but saw nothing, h-hellhounds?
He tried to take a step backward, cursing himself as his back hit the wall again. He glanced back over to his brother’s last known location, and – upon still not seeing the giant – scrubbed a hand down his face, fuck!
“Aw, what’s the matter, Dean? I thought you wanted to party?”
The blonde did his best to compose himself, shifting his grip on the fire poker, “I’m just surprised you had to bring in reinforcements. I must be better than I thought.”
The demon stomped a foot on the ground at that, sending dust swirling into the air, and Dean thanked whoever was running Heaven now that they got backed into a barn. The growling intensified and he watched the hellhound’s paw prints begin to move toward him. Shit-shit-shit.
“Well, we’d love to stay,” the demon by the door’s demeanour changed, and the five ghosts that were in front of the hunter began disappearing, “But I think Fido here has it covered.”
With that, Dean was alone.
“Fuck!” Dean began to side step along the wall, making his way over to where he last saw his brother, eyes not leaving the paw prints that were getting alarmingly closer, “Sammy, now would be a really great time to pop out of whenever you are.”
At the lack of sound – minus the growls from the beast stalking toward him – he shook his head, I swear to God, if you’re not dead or dying, I’m going to kill you. The blonde continued inching his way over to the other side of the barn, brain working over time to try and think of a way for them to make it out of this, without dying.
He finally reached the spot his brother had been, and let out a small sigh of relief as he saw a door. He kept his eyes on the paw prints in the dust, and held out a hand, crouching down slightly, “Okay, we’re just gonna be nice and easy about this…” he slowly reached into his jacket and pulled out a container of salt, thank God this was a ghost thing, and opened it, pouring a semi circle around himself, starting at the base of the wall, swinging out not too far in front of him, until it connected with the wall on the opposite side of the door.
He let out another breath of relief as the beast stopped coming forward. He replaced the salt in his jacket and reached for the door handle, please don’t be dead.
As the door swung open – thankfully into the room – he paused in the doorway as he saw his brother lying beside a demon, neither were moving. Okay… that doesn’t mean anything. Dean pulled his knife back out before kicking the demon’s foot.
At the lack of response, Dean kicked his brother, keeping a wary eye on the other body, “Sam?”
The giant groaned, head rolling slowly from side to side as he cracked an eye open, “D’n?”
“No, it’s the tooth fairy,” The blonde slid the knife into one of his belt loops before reaching for his brother.
Sam shook his head slowly, blinking his eyes as he looked around the small space, eyes landing on the body beside him, “What happened?”
“Apparently you were taking a cat nap while I did all the work, as usual.”
Even though he still seemed groggy, the giant’s brows furrowed at that, “You killed three demons and took out all the ghosts?”
“Don’t be jealous,” The blonde gave his brother a once over, “You good?”
“Uh,” The giant ran both hands through his hair, before nodding, “Yeah, I think so. Why?”
As if on queue to answer his question, a growl floated through the door then, making the giant raise his eyebrows, “is that what I think it is?”
“Yeah,” Dean made the short trip over to the door, pressing his ear against it, “We’re gonna have to make a run for it.”
“Shit.” Sam took in a breath, unsheathing Ruby’s knife before nodding, “On three?”
The blonde took a steeling breath himself as he put his hand on the doorknob, and nodded, “One…”
“Two…” The brother’s exchanged a look, both of them readjusting the grip they hand on their weapons, “Three.”
Dean ripped the door open, and the boys burst through it in the next moment, being careful to stay inside the salt circle. He heard his brother take in a surprised breath as the blonde surveyed the dusty floor, eyes looking for any sign of paw print movement.
“Can you see anything?”
“Did you seriously just ask me if I could see the invisible dog?” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “Can’t say I have, Dean.”
The blonde rolled his eyes, grabbing the salt back out of his jacket, “Alright, we’re gonna have to do this the hard way, then.” He moved to the edge of the circle, beginning to pour more salt out from it’s edge, forming a parallel line between him and the wall.
He motioned for his brother to follow as he took a few steps forward, worried eyes continually scanning the floor. They made it about halfway back down the wall when his container ran out of salt, shit.
The blonde stayed in his half-crouched position, “Please tell me you still have salt in your container.”
“Uh…” The hesitant voice made the oldest close his eyes, “there might be.”
“Might be?”
He heard the giant shift where he stood, “It kind of… got knocked out of my hand when the demon tackled me into the room.”
Dean let out a deep sigh, opening his eyes as he straightened up, “You couldn’t of said that before we started moving?”
The youngest held his hands up in mock surrender, “I didn’t know what your plan was!”
“Well, that’s just great, Sammy,” Dean pulled a hand through his hair, ignoring the strands that fell from his hand, “Now what are we supposed to do?”
Sam furrowed his brows as he looked out over the barn, “Well, it’s pretty quiet.” His eyes swept over the floor before landing back on the shorter man, “Maybe it left?”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded his head, not looking nearly as convinced as his tone sounded, “The demon probably figured we would camp out in the room, and got bored waiting.”
Dean gave his brother a look, “So you want us to just… walk out the front door?”
The giant gave a half-shrug, “Well it’s not like we can just stand here forever.”
“Damn it!” The blonde turned around, punching the wall. He groaned before turning back, eyes sweeping over the not-moving dust covered floor, “Fine.” He eyed the door – it was just close enough to be taunting them, “Let’s just… be quick about it.”
“Duh.”
Dean took a moment to close his eyes again, taking in a deep breath before stepping over the salt line. When there wasn’t an immediate growl, his shoulder’s relaxed ever so slightly, “O-okay. Let’s go.”
He started toward the door – jogging for good measure – stopping only once he was through the doorway. He quickly spun around, hand on the handle, using most of the strength he had left to pull the door over.
He stopped halfway when he noticed his brother was still standing behind the salt line, “Dude, what the hell are you doing?”
“I can’t move.”
“What are you talking about? You’ll be fine,” Dean waved a hand for his brother, “Let’s get outta here.”
“No, Dean,” The giant brought frightened eyes to his brother, “I-I can’t move!”
“You can’t…?” The blonde’s eyes drifted back over to the door on the opposite side of the barn, sinking feeling washing over him, “Christo.”
Sure enough, his brother’s eyes flicked black, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! Dean took a charged step back into the barn, “Exorcizamus te-”
“Pfft, yeah,” His brother’s demeanour changed and he waved a hand, the blonde’s voice cutting off, “Like I’m gonna let you finish that.”
Dean took another step into the barn, glaring at the demon, get the hell out of my brother!
“Aw,” The giant’s features contorted into a playful frown, “What’s the matter Dean?” He gestured down to himself, “I thought you liked this outfit?”
The blonde took another step, if you hurt him, I swear to God-
He froze as he heard a familiar growl off to his right. Even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to see anything, he couldn’t help but look toward the source of the noise, shit.
Not-Sam let out a loud belly laugh at that, “Oh man, you should really see the look on your face.” He pulled out the youngest’s cell phone and raised an eyebrow, “I don’t suppose you’d show me how to use the camera on this thing?” At the glare, he shrugged, shoving it back into his pocket, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Dean took a cautious step backward as the growling continued, eyes flicking between the invisible threat and his demon-possessed brother, today started out so well, too…
“Don’t worry, Dean,” Not-Sam stepped out from behind the salt line, evil smile splitting his face as he took in the fear on the eldest’s face, “It’ll be quick.”
This is the 3rd and final fic in the 3-part mini series for this year.
“Sam!” Dean fired off a rock-salt round as he booked it as fast as he could to the entrance of the graveyard backward, “anytime now!”
The youngest Winchester suppressed his eye roll as he struck yet another match, huffing in annoyance as it didn’t light, “None of these matches are lighting!”
The blonde’s eyes moved between the large group of ghosts that were quickly surrounding him and his brother, who was somehow still standing over the grave they dug up, “Use the lighter!”
“I didn’t bring one!”
“You didn’t bring one?” Dean fired off another shot, bringing confused eyes to the brunette, “You’re joking, right?”
The giant tossed up his hands in exasperation before throwing another unlit match into the grave, “Just hold on! I can get this!”
“Yeah,” Dean was quickly being cornered into one side of the fence, gun dangerously low, “that might not be an option.”
Sam groaned as he struck the last match in the box, tossing the useless stick into the grave before grabbing his gun, “Fine! Let’s go.”
Dean did his best to hold back his eye roll as his brother sprinted toward him. He cleared as much of the ghost group between them as he could before his ammo ran out. Luckily, the giant wasn’t totally useless and cleared enough of the rest of them to allow the blonde to make a break for the entrance.
The giant was close on his heels, firing off shot after shot as the brother’s raced toward the car. As the car came into view, Dean felt himself relax slightly, we’re gonna make it!
“Shit,” The curse and the click of an empty gun from behind him dashed the eldest’s hopes almost as soon as they’d come on, of course.
They were maybe three feet from the car when they had to pull out the to-go salt packets Dean had grabbed from the diner earlier that day, thank God for that distracted waitress.
Sam’s leg was bouncing as the blonde struggled to rip one of the packs open, ghost hoard closing back in, “Is there even enough in there to make a difference?”
Dean groaned, bringing a pack up to his teeth, “It’s gonna have to be.”
He tossed some packets at the giant just as he managed to rip the corner of the one in his mouth, aha! He tossed the packet toward one of the closer ghosts, face falling as the packet hit the ground, no salt spilling out.
Dean let out an annoyed groan as they continued backing toward the car, “Is anything gonna go right today?”
Sam got his packets open, pouring the salt out into his hand before attempting to throw it. A few grains flew off his hand, most sticking to the sweat in his palm. He let out an annoyed huff and wiped it onto his pants, flicking his eyes over to his brother, “Now what?”
“We run for it.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh, yeah,” He took a chance to look back at the car before turning back to the growing angry ghosts, “the car’s close enough, we should make it.”
Sam snorted, “Should?”
The brother’s exchanged a look before turning around and booking it as fast as their legs would carry them toward their home on wheels.
Dean reached the car first, nearly sliding off balance as he tugged the passenger seat door open. He jumped through, sliding himself across the bench seat to the driver’s side of the car, just as Sam came jumping in after him.
The blonde wasted no time shoving the key into the ignition, car roaring to life. Sam barely got the door closed before he was tossed into the dashboard with the force of them peeling out of the graveyard.
They got a few miles down the road before either brother let out a breath of relief.
Dean ran a hand through his hair as he attempted to calm his heartbeat, “Told you we’d make it.”
Sam let out a humourless chuckle at that, “Yeah, right.” His brows furrowed in confusion as his brother turned left down the road, “Uh, dude where are you going? Grandview’s the other way.”
Dean flicked his eyes over to his brother, “And why would we go back to Grandview?”
“Because we left Melinda standing in a- watch out!”
The hunter cut himself off as a blinding white light opened up in the road ahead of them.
“Shit!” Dean stomped on the brakes as they went sailing into it, sound of squealing tires filling the air.
The light subsided just in time for the boys to watch themselves crash into an expensive looking table as the car came to a stop. The brother’s exchanged a look as they took in their new surroundings. It looked as though they were in some sort of workshop.
“Uh…” Dean flicked his eyes to the roof of the car, “Cas? This isn’t the bunker’s garage.”
“I don’t think this was Cas.” Sam’s brows were furrowed as he took in the room, “This place does look familiar, though…”
“I’ve never seen it.” Dean turned the car off, sitting back in his seat, “Should we be fighting or…?”
Sam shook his head, “I don’t think so.”
“Sam!” Dean scrubbed a hand down his face as his brother got out of the car, sorry Melinda. He climbed out of the car a moment later, taking in the knocked over table, shattered computer screen and various shards of glass, wide glass panel walls to the left, and a man who seemed to be sleeping on the lone couch, his back facing them.
Dean bumped his brother’s arm, nodding toward him, “How the hell did he sleep through that?”
Sam turned to the couch and shrugged, “Maybe he’s dead?”
“Great,” The blonde rolled his eyes, moving a few steps further into the workshop, “That’s just what we need, more dead people.”
He shook his head as his eyes roamed over the rest of the space. He couldn’t help but let out a loud whistle as his eyes landed on a long row of classic cars lined against the opposite wall, “Damn, how did I miss that?”
“Dean.”
The blonde waved off his brother’s warning tone, “Relax, Sammy, I’m just looking.”
“Uh-huh.” Sam didn’t feel convinced, but shifted his focus from his brother to the man on the couch, anyway. He walked a few steps closer, craning his neck in a failed attempt to see the man’s face. “Do you think I should-”
A loud alarm started blaring then, effectively cutting off the end of the giant’s sentence.
He jumped at the sudden noise, eyes quickly locating his brother, who was two feet away from one of the red cars, guilt all over his face, “What the hell did you touch?”
The blonde held his hands up in mock surrender as security gates started lowering over all the windows and doors, “Nothing, I swear!”
“Well clearly you did something!” Sam rolled his eyes, waving for the blonde to join him back over by the car, “You’re such a child!”
“You’re lost?” You can’t help but feel bad for him as he gives you a nod, “No problem. I grew up here.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile as he brings his eyes up from the sidewalk, “Where you trying to go?”
“The Empire State Building.”
You internally roll your eyes, oh great. “Sorry, did you say the Empire State Building?”
“Yeah,” he shifted his weight as he took in the look on your face, and let out a nervous chuckle, “it’s on the other side of the city, isn’t it?”
“No,” You point your thumb over your shoulder, “it’s actually about 1,400 miles that way.”
His face pales as he stares passed you, “W-what?”
“Yeah, I don’t know who your tour guide was, but you’re in Kansas, not New York.”
His face goes impossibly paler and he swallows thickly, bringing his eyes back to your face, “P-please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Nope,” You dig out your phone, turning on your location before showing him the screen, “Lebanon, Kansas. See?”
He snatches your phone, eyes going wider as he reads the screen, “Oh my God.” He stares at it, and you can swear you see him will the location to change, “This…. This is…. Oh my God!”
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” You guide him to lean against the wall behind you, “Take a few deep breaths. It won’t be that hard to get from here to New York. You can just hop on a bus, or train, or-”
Your sentence cuts off as his arm whips out, hand closing around your neck. Before your brain can register what’s happening, a bag goes over your head, and you hear the squeal of tires pull up behind you.
You grunt as you presumably get tossed into the vehicle, hearing a door slam shut before it screeches off down the road. Crap.
