Important: This is the 3rd last story of 2024! I’ll be taking the last half of December and first half of January off from posting. I’ll be back January 17th, 2025 with the first story of the new year!
Written: 23.11.20
Words: 2,963
C2C
“You better watch your tone, Boy.”
Dean did his best to ignore the pang in his stomach at his father’s disapproving voice. His hand only faltered a little, but he kept the gun trained on the intruder’s head, “I’m not gonna ask you again.”
John took a step into the room, “We don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.” Dean took a swift step to the left, effectively cutting off the man’s path, “You’re not getting any weapons – and we damn sure aren’t gonna help you – until you answer my questions.”
“Dean-”
“Or, if you prefer,” Dean cocked the gun, and raised an eyebrow, “I could just kill you now.”
After a tense moment of prolonged eye contact, John let out a deep sigh and his shoulders deflated, “Fine.” He held up his hands in mock surrender and not-so-slowly made his way over to the small dining table in the corner, “Just… ask fast. If this bastard gets away because you were interrogating me…”
Dean gave the man a once over – he sure as hell looked like his father – the way he carried himself, his mannerisms and even his annoyed parent face were all very convincing – but Dean couldn’t shake the feeling something felt… off.
And not just because John was dead.
Dean closed the distance between them, keeping his gun at the ready. He reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and tossed the silver flask of holy water onto the table, “First things first.”
John raised an eyebrow, “Is this really necessary?”
Important: This is the 2nd last fic of 2023! I’ll be taking the last half of December and first half of January off from posting.
I’ll be back January 12th, 2024 with the first story of the new year.
Written: 23.09.01
Words: 1,833
Wee!Chesters, Fluff, 2023’s Christmas fic
Prompt: Eat with a Friend Day
“We’re making dessert!” Sammy beamed at him as he grabbed the wooden spoon and attempted to stir the creation. After finally dislodging it from where it was stuck in the plaster-like confection, his face fell, “I don’t think we did it right.”
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.”
Bobby quickly grabbed a discarded spoon off the edge of the island and plunged it into the bowl. He had to bite the inside of his cheek as the spoon met the confection with a loud clink.
“Oh no!” Sammy dropped the wooden spoon and turned tearful eyes to his older brother – who was still hesitantly putting packages away, “We ruined it!”
Dean stopped mid-roll of a package before he placed his hands on the counter and hung his head between them, shoulders beginning to move up and down.
Bobby put the spoon back on the table and tried to keep his expression neutral, “Hey now, it’s not that bad.”
“B-but,” Sammy sniffed, beginning to take in huffing breaths, “E-everyone’s counting on us and we… we ruined Christmas!” He burst into tears then and all but jumped off the chair in his haste to hide his face against the kitchen table.
Bobby let out a breath as he stood between the two crying boys, heart aching. He took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair as he took a moment to think. I let them to cook because they were excited about it. I didn’t think they would take it so seriously…
A hand slapped itself over Gabriels’ mouth, “Are you trying to get us killed?” Cas narrowed his eyes, voice barely above a whisper, “I said last we knew it was empty.”
Gabriel glared at the angel but nodded, allowing him to remove his hand, “I can’t believe you sent him here alone.”
Dean cocked an eyebrow as he checked the perimeter, “Are you forgetting he used to hunt all the time alone?”
“And look at what that got him.” Gabriel trailed behind the pair, ticking the items off on his fingers, “Addicted to demon blood, possessed by Luci, thrown into the Cage, soulless-”
“I don’t need a play-by-play,” Dean spun around to face the angel, “I was the one who was there, remember?”
“And maybe if you did a better job-”
“If I recall,” The blonde rushed the angel, pinning him against the wall, “It was your family that started the shit-storm me and my brother went through. So if anyone is to blame, it’d be you.”
“Dean.” Cas’ warning made the blonde drop him. He joined the trench-coated angel a few steps away, starring up at the stairs, “He shouldn’t have gotten too far.”
Gabriel shook his head, “If you had just listened to me-”
“Oh, here we go.” Dean rolled his eyes as they started up the stairs, “All hail the great know-it-all.”
“Well I have been around longer than your puny brain can comprehend. Think that gives me a bit of an edge, don’t you?”
“Gives you more time to make mistakes, maybe.”
“Stop it.” Cas stopped in the middle of the hall, blasting all the doors open, shoulders slumping as they were all empty, “This doesn’t make sense.”
“What?”
“We were only a few seconds behind him,” Cas frowned, eyes narrowing as he thought, “He should’ve still been standing downstairs.”
“So… what? Something took him?”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
Dean shook his head, ignoring the comment as he turned back to his boyfriend, “I thought this place was warded?”
Gabriel let out a low whistle, “How short is your memory?” At the blank stares he let out a sigh, “The demons joined the party around the time Dean got surrounded by vamps, remember?”
Cas shook his head, “I came back after and finished the warding.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, “You expect me to believe you came back here, after it was overrun by monsters, defeated all of them – alone – and then warded the place?” He turned disbelieving eyes to the hunter, “Do you buy that?”
Dean held up his hands in mock surrender as he shrugged, “I didn’t go back with him.”
Cas huffed before pushing past the men, making his way toward the stairs, “I can prove it.”
They followed him down the staircase, toward the back door. He ripped a strip of wallpaper off the wall, revealing painted sigils, “See?” His brows furrowed as he saw the sigils, “Wait… this isn’t right.” He ripped off another few strips of wallpaper, swallowing thickly as he revealed some of the sigils had been scribbled over. He took a few steps back from the wall, head tilting as he starred at it. “I… don’t understand.”
“What’s wrong with it?” Dean held up his hand as Gabriel opened his mouth, “Aside from the obvious?”
The raven-haired angel shook his head, “This warding prevented them from getting in. But they would’ve had to come inside to disable them this way.”
“… And?”
“Not the brightest bulb, are you, Dean-O?” At the hunters’ look Gabriel let out a dramatic sigh, “A monster would’ve just created an earthquake or something to break the warding from the outside. But these were scribbled out, which means-”
“They would’ve had human help.”
“Well, give the man a cigar.” Gabriel rolled his eyes before bringing his hand up to rub his chin as he thought, “So… who does Sam know who’d be willing to work with monsters?”
“Whoa,” Dean held up his hands, brows furrowing, “What makes you think it’s someone Sam knew?”
“Well he’s not here, is he?” Gabriel gestured to the empty house, “And – assuming Bro here didn’t zap him somewhere else – since there’s no signs of a struggle, that means he went with whoever it was willingly.”
“I sent him here.” Cas finally turned from the wall, “Whoever it is must also have the necklace.”
“Okay, so…” the blonde looked between the two angels, “who would Sam trust?”
—
Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blonde in the drivers’ seat. It had been so long since he’d seen her. Even longer since he’d seen her smiling, and although he wasn’t happy to learn she’d been hunting, he was just grateful to be within arms reach of her again. She was right there.
He couldn’t wrap his brain around it, he had watched her burn to death on the ceiling – and yet here she was, tapping her thumb against the steering wheel in time with the music. Just like she used to. He was doing his best to ignore the small part of him that told him something wasn’t right. He wasn’t stupid, when did these things ever not come with a price? But she’d passed every test he’d given her with flying colours, so he decided he would let himself enjoy it, at least for a little while.
“Will you quit starring?” Jess flashed him that gorgeous smile he’d forgotten all about, flicking her eyes off the road for a moment, “It’s starting to get creepy.”
Will the boys be able to find Sam? HOW is Jess back?? Find out how the fic ends here!
The boss cleared his throat, taking his feet off the table as she turned back around, expression carefully calm, “Aren’t you going to pass them out?”
The raven-haired girl took a deep breath, before plastering the fakest smile Dean had ever seen across her face, “Of course.”
She begrudgingly picked up one of the trays and began placing the coffees down in front of the men, who all could’ve tried a lot harder not to stare as her chest got within a few inches of their faces.
Dean shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from the intern. She doesn’t deserve this. He didn’t know much about her other than her name and the obviously fake rumours that circled the office. It wasn’t enough that she was in fact the only female in the office – the guys apparently needed to degrade her further by letting her in on the Office Secret of Success: Shorter your skirt, higher you’ll climb.
What a bunch of dicks, Dean began to sweat as she got closer to his seat, should I help her? He picked his pen back up from the table, eyes starring intently at it as the click of high heels got closer, she is almost done now…
A moment later, an arm came into view, placing a coffee cup in front of him. He felt his cheeks heat up as he kept his gaze firmly on the pen, not wanting to accidentally look at the boobs that were only a few inches from his face. Why couldn’t she be taller?
“T-thanks.”
He heard a few snickers and felt his cheeks flare a brighter red, why did I take this job again?
“You’re welcome.”
His head shot up at the light shoulder squeeze, and their eyes finally met, hers surprisingly warm, crinkled around the edges with the genuine smile she gave him. Damn…
Just as fast as it had happened, the moment was over and she had moved passed him. He did his best not to get lost in the flowery scent that lingered for a little too long, and to ignore the raised eyebrows of his colleagues.
The sound of a hand hitting something filled the air and Dean looked up to his boss’ seat, where he was grinning like an idiot and Cas’ cheeks began to burn. He could tell by the expression on both their faces exactly what he’d missed, this isn’t gonna end well…
“Thanks Gorgeous.”
Cas kept the fake smile plastered to her face as she continued handing out the rest of the coffees. Dean watched as she reached the end of the table, before leaning her hands on the end of the table, inadvertently – or perhaps on purpose – pushing her boobs together, “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Dean watched in disgust as a few men adjusted their sitting positions, what is wrong with them? before Mr. Newman waved her off.
Once she was out of the room, he adjusted the papers in front of him, picking up the coffee cup, clearing his throat, “Now… where were we?”
—
“I just wish there was something I could do, y’know? They shouldn’t get away with it.”
Dean slowed as he approached the entrance to Cas’ cubicle, this doesn’t make any sense. You just met, and didn’t even talk to her! Why are you getting so bent out of shape? He switched the paperwork from one hand to the other, taking turns wiping the sweat from them, maybe I should apologize for this morning…
He knocked softly on the wall, before poking his head in. Her back was to him, and she had one hand white-knuckled around a cell, “I swear to God, if one more person calls me Sugar, I’m gonna-” she whipped around then, phone snapping closed, “What?”
“Whoa, hey,” Dean held up his hands in mock surrender, “I-I didn’t mean-”
“Oh,” her expression changed as she saw it was the blonde, smile lighting up her features, “Sorry.” She placed the cell down on her desk, before turning back to him, tilting her head slightly to one side, nodding at the papers he was holding, “Those for me?”
“Uh…” he lowered his eyes to his hands and mentally face-palmed, “Y-yeah. Jenkins needs these by the end of the day.”
She let out a sigh before pushing away from her desk, rolling over to the blonde in her chair, snatching the papers, “Does anyone in this office do their own paperwork?”
“Well, uh, I-I…” he swallowed thickly, get it together, Winchester!
She raised an eyebrow at him, corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile as she rolled back to her desk, “Wow, I haven’t had that affect on a boy since the tenth grade.”
“Wh-what?” Dean felt his cheeks flare, “N-no! That’s not-I mean, I don’t-”
“Oh, relax.” She waved a dismissive hand at him as she stood up, “I’m just messing with you.”
She smirked up at him as she closed the distance between them, stopping a few inches in front of him, perfume beginning to envelope his senses. Were her eyes always that blue?
“… Well?”
Dean shook his head, bringing re-focused eyes to hers, “Sorry.. .what?”
She chuckled before pointing behind him, “You gonna let me out or…?” She shrugged, holding the papers out to him, “Unless you’d rather do the copies?”
“Oh, right,” he took a step to the side, unblocking the entrance to her cubicle, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt, “Sorry.”
“Relax, Stretch.” She sent a wink over her shoulder as she started toward the copier, “You’re the only one I enjoyed having in my box.”
Dean jumped off the couch and surveyed the living room, what the hell…, he frowned as he confirmed he was alone, “H-hello?”
Why are you so jumpy?
He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up at hearing the voice again and turned the T.V off, just in case. He listened for a moment and when he didn’t hear anything he let out a nervous chuckle and sat back down, don’t psyche yourself out, Winchester.
Don’t… don’t you remember?
He surveyed the room again, “Okay, this isn’t funny, alright?”
How don’t you remember?
Dean got up from the couch cautiously, “S-Sam?” Remember? What the hell am I supposed to remember?
He couldn’t help but tense as he was only greeted with silence. He rubbed at his temples, I must finally be losing it.
You’re not losing it, Dean.
“Where are you?” He crossed the room to check the kitchen.
Dean, relax. I’m not in the house.
Empty… shit. “How do you know my name?” Wait… Dean froze as the words sunk in, you’re not in the house? Then how the hell can I hear you? No, you know what? The blonde started toward the stairs, I don’t care. Guess this is what old age does.
You’re not that old, Dean.
He locked the bathroom door behind him and leaned against the sink, still doesn’t explain why I can hear some dude I don’t know talk to me who apparently isn’t here.
That’s… hard to explain.
He stared at his reflection in the mirror, is this really what I’m doing now? Conversing with the voices?
There’s only one of me.
Dean snorted and shook his head, of course, my mistake… he let out a breath and splashed some water on his face, why couldn’t I at least hear a chick? That woulda been way more entertaining.
I’m not just a random voice, Dean! Do you really not remember?
… and now I’ve offended him, great, the blonde sighed and exited the bathroom, heading over to his bedroom before flopping down on his bed.
I can explain, if you like. It’s just… hard. You’re gonna have to trust me.
Trust you? I don’t even know you!
Maybe you’ll remember if you see me in person.
You’re just a voice in my head, how am I supposed to-
You’re home, right?
Dean sat up and looked around the room, “Ugh… yeah.”
He heard a thud from downstairs and got up off the bed, before creeping over to the steps. He peered over the railing and saw a man standing in his living room. What the…? He pulled the gun out from the back of his pants and ran down the steps.
The man squinted his eyes as he spotted the gun and tilted his head to the side.
“Who are you? How’d you get in here?”
“Where did you get a gun from?”
Dean blinked absently, his hand faltering as he heard the voice that was in his head come from the man in front of him. What the hell? “H-how did you do that?”
The raven-haired man looked around the room in confusion, “Do what?”
The blonde let out a nervous chuckle and ran his free hand through his hair, “So… what? You’re some sort of ventriloquist?”
“That’s… that’s not what that is.”
“Okay, fine, whatever. You need to leave.”
“Dean-”
“Look,” he tucked his gun back into his pants and took a few steps forward, “I don’t know who you are, or how you got in here, but you’ve gotta leave.”
The man squinted his eyes again and bit his bottom lip, “You… you really don’t recognize me? … At all?”
Dean looked the man up and down and shook his head, “Trust me, I think I’d remember meeting some trench-coated-blue-tied-sex-haired dude.”
