Sam paced back and forth across the kitchen, his bare feet scuffling along the cold, tiled floor. It had been three days since he had seen Dean. He woke up that day and Dean was just…gone. No note, nothing. No signs of a struggle. Dean hadn’t called or texted either.
Although it was 8 o’clock in the morning, he poured himself a glass of whiskey and quickly drank it down. He had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He poured another glass, but just held it, staring across the room at the door, as if Dean would walk in at any second. His grip tightened on the glass, and it shattered in his hand, shards of glass and liquor going everywhere. Sam looked at the cuts on his hand, watching the blood mix with the alcohol, barely noticing the sting.
He did look up however, when he felt a presence in the room. He knew it wasn’t Dean. He turned slowly to face the intruder.
“ ‘Sup Sam? I’ve got something to tell you…”
Sam nodded acceptingly, his hair falling into his face. He did not cry. He offered her a drink. She set her scythe against the wall and joined him.
This glass he finished slowly. It would probably be his last.
Squee’s Supporters belw the cut – My Forevers! Let me know if you’d like to added or removed!
Warnings: self harm (sort of) mentioned
but not described, terrified Sam, protective Dean.
“Sammy! Coffee!” Dean hollered to
his brother from the kitchen. But there was no response. Dean
waited a few more minutes and Sam still hadn’t responded, hadn’t made a sound.
Dean paused and listened closely before he called again. The bunker was quiet.
“Sam, get your ass down here, we
gotta hit the road in ten!” Still there was nothing but silence. Dean
sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. Sam was probably fixing his hair or
something. He headed down the hall to Sam’s bedroom. He gave a sharp
knock, making sure Sam knew of his impatience. Sam did not respond.
“Dude, seriously, come on –“
Dean opened the door to his brother’s room. He did not expect to find the
bedroom empty. Dean frowned. Where the hell was his brother?
He searched all the main rooms, his
own room, and the bathroom, but couldn’t find his brother. He tried
calling his cell, but Sam did not pick up. It wasn’t like Sam to just take off
without telling him. His heart beat a little faster, but he wasn’t
worried just yet.
That is, until he opened the door to
the boiler room and found Sam crouched in the corner, visibly shaking.
“Sam?” Dean started to
run toward his younger brother.
Sam held up his hand and yelled for
Dean to stop. In his other hand, he held a large knife. Dean’s eyes
grew wide and he froze in his tracks.
“Sam?” Dean asked cautiously.
“What are you doing with the knife?”
Sam shook his head. He was sweating
and he looked terrified.
“It’s all my fault, Dean. All
of this. Every last thing. My fault.” His eyes turned away
from Dean and he stared at the wall, knife still held firmly in his grasp.
“What’s your fault, Sam?” He tried
to slowly make his way over to his brother.
“Charlie died because of me,
Dean. You know that. You accused me of that. You told me it
should have been me up there, my body burning. I know now you were right. I should have died.” Sam had shifted himself underneath a
table. He awkwardly pulled his knees up under his chin, his body
trembling.
Dean blinked. He was
confused. Where was this suddenly coming from? He tried to keep his voice
calm, even though he was angry and scared. How was he going to fix this?
“I…I was under the mark of Cain,
Sam! I don’t think it should have been you. You know that, right?”
Dean tried to sound reassuring as he tried to assess the situation. But
Sam was shaking his head.
“Kevin too. I literally was
the one who murdered him.” He started chewing on his fingernails.
“Sam, that was Gadreel!” He
raked his hands through his hair. Dean’s concern over Sam’s behavior was
growing. What was going on? He couldn’t get any closer because Sam
kept clutching the knife, holding it closer to his body.
Sam kept talking, much faster
than usual.
“And that car accident? When Dad
traded his soul for yours so that you could live? I was driving the
fucking car, Dean!”
“Sammy, you’re not seriously blaming
yourself for that? Azazel sent a demon after us, it doesn’t matter who
was driving!”
“You know what else?” Sam was
practically sobbing now. “Bobby, too. He died because of me!”
“Sam, hell, no! Dick Roman killed
Bobby!” Dean tried to reach out to his brother, but Sam was startled by
the quick movement and scooted further back under the table, moving the knife
to his neck.
“Sammy! What the hell are you
doing, put that down!” Dean choked back a sob.
“And whose fault is it that the
Leviathans were released, huh? Who started all of that! That was
me!” Sam’s voice caught in his throat and his sobbing intensified.
Dean shook his head, tears falling
from his eyes, too.
“Sammy stop!”
Dean couldn’t believe what he was
hearing. Or seeing. He had to do something.
He didn’t want to call him, but he
needed backup for this one, and he knew the demon could probably help.
“Crowley!” Dean called, balling his
fists against his sides, his voice thick with panic.
(to be continued…)
Squee’s Supporters below the cut –
My Forevers! Let me know
if you’d like to added or removed!
Summary: Gabriel the Messenger and Loki the Trickster are the same. The implications? Loki’s kids are all uber powerful half-archangels. And Jack could use a teacher… And if that isn’t enough: over 135k of slowburn sabriel, cases, TFW interactions, Jack being adorable, secondary slowburn destiel, OCs who don’t fall in love with main characters, and amazing fanart by @scrollingkingfisher
Part 23/24: Nodus Tollens noun 1. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore
**content warning: this chapter contains explicit sexual content**
It occurs to Castiel, sometime that afternoon and between
bouts of rather athletic sex, that he
has no idea how he ever ended up here.
Looking back on the last few months of his life, it seems
impossible that he would find himself in this position: happy – content, even –
and in Dean Winchester’s bed.
It gets even more absurd when he thinks of himself a year
ago. Then ten years. A laugh bubbles its way out of his chest before he can
stop it.
“Hey. Just so you know, it’s not polite to laugh at a guy
with your head between his legs.”
Castiel looks up from where he’d been idly sucking a bruise
to Dean’s thigh.
Dean raises an eyebrow. “Not really an ego boost.”
Deleted scene where Sam n Cas sit silently in the library, reading stuff. The rift glows ominously behind them. They utterly ignore it. Cas turns a page. Sam checks his watch. The rift crackles somewhat grumpily at being ignored.
Occasionally one of them will get up, walk over to the rift, glare at it while debating whether it’s worth peeking over to see what’s on the other side, but resignedly going back to their research.
At some point, Sam decides to at least make sure Dean and Ketch didn’t just jump through and twist all their ankles landing wrong in a sand dune right on the other side or something, He makes sure he’s got Cas’s attention, and without another word sticks his head through the rift and is zapped to the AU where he finds himself ankle-deep in snow. After being grateful he wasn’t walking around the bunker in his socks, he looks around and sees two sets of footprints heading off down the snow-covered road.
It’s a good sign, at least Dean and Ketch made it through and walked off side by side. He strains to see into the distance in case one of them just up and killed the other, but the road is clear as far as he can see. There’s nothing else he can really do there aside from drawing even more attention to the weird glowy rift and be grateful it didn’t open into the middle of Michael’s camp or a horde of demons who were getting ready to storm through to the bunker or something.
He decides to try an experiment while he’s there. He picks up a handful of snow and packs it down into a compact snowball, and then hesitates for only a second before tossing it through the rift. he waits a minute or two, until Cas tosses back a crumpled wad of note paper. He picks it up and reads the list of reference books he’d crossed off their list of potential research information hours ago but stuffs it in his pocket. Interdimensional littering isn’t polite.
He pops back through to the library and finds the half-melted snowball sitting on a plate beside his stack of books. Cas squints up at him. They nod at each other and go back to work.
I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS BAR
I’m perpetually amazed at how awesome how y’all are.
Cas and Sam are sitting together at the table again, the rift flickering sullenly in the middle of the room.
Sam turns a page, engrossed in an apocryphal treatise he found on angelic healing powers.
Cas frowns at the laptop, trying to follow the ridiculously convoluted iterations of the Scooby Doo series through the years on Scoobypedia. If he’s done his calculations correctly, and assuming the Scooby Gang solved one mystery a week since the first day of their junior year of high school—
Suddenly the rift flares and a blast of cold wind sweeps through the bunker.
A black bird skids to a halt on the table, scattering mangy feathers as it frantically tries to right itself.
Sam stares at it for a moment, then slides around to the end of the table, his hands out as though to placate the struggling creature.
Cas glares suspiciously at the rift.
The bird finally gets to its feet, claws skittering on the smooth table.
“Is it hurt?” Sam asks, reaching tentatively.
The bird lets out a wheezy ‘caw’ and promptly settles onto its belly, staring back at Sam.
Cas peers at it.
The inky feathers are dull and scraggly, the dark brown eyes that should be roving all over are quiet and weary.
With a somber glance at Sam, Cas reaches out with both hands and picks up the crow gently. It squawks once in protest.
“He’s malnourished. Only a juvenile.” He strokes two fingers down the bird’s back, and it twitches as its feathers fluff and turn glossy.
It sits placidly in Cas’ hand, looking around more alertly.
“We should… we should send it back,” he offers without conviction.
“Probably,” replies Sam with an equal lack of enthusiasm.
Cas takes a few steps toward the rift and hesitates.
“It doesn’t belong here,” he states.
They consider the bird in Cas’ hand for a moment.
“I mean, what would we do if it were a person?” Sam posits.
Castiel cocks his head in question.
“If a person had wandered through, instead of a bird? Would we… would we make them go back?”
The young crow yells defiantly at the rift.
Cas raises an eyebrow. “He does not want to go back.”
The crow squalls again.
“He says there’s nothing for him there,” says Cas. “His nestmates have scattered, or died. He hasn’t even seen one of his own kind since winter fell.”
Sam pleads silently at Cas.
Cas holds the bird to his chest, and together he and Sam start up the stairs to the front door.
The crow flies away but settles on a tree nearby, cawing twice.
“It’s just a bird, right?” says Sam uncertainly. “No harm, no foul?”
Castiel doesn’t answer.
They watch the crow for a long time.
It preens and flicks its tail before calling out again.
After a beat, Sam asks, “What was that? Was it saying anything?”
Cas sighs resignedly. “He says he owes us a life debt.”
“That— that’s awesome, right?”
Cas looks at his friend incredulously. “It’s a crow, Sam,” he growls, and shoulders back into the bunker.
Sam lets out an affronted breath. “Well,” he calls out to the bird, “you’re welcome. See you around… I guess.”
The bunker door squeals shut, and the crow flies off on his first mission, dreaming of all the shiny things he might find in this bright new world.
It may not have been Michael’s intention to start healing heaven yet, but he still gets to make a difference angel by angel, starting with Balthazar and Ephraim.
Also, Sigyn’s first visit to Asgard went something like this. Meet Loki Odinson and Sleipnir Lokison.
Ok so this one is for those of you who love Supernatural and Marvel. This is Basically a fic about how Sam met Tony Stark during his time in Stanford, and all that follows that. This is an unfinished series by MonPetitTresor. Itcurrently has 14 parts (each part contains 1-12 chapters) and about 85K words.
There’s currently one explicit work, tho if you don’t like reading these sorts of things just read the notes in the beginning and you’ll be good 🙂
The series is Sam-Centric and Tony-Centric and can sometimes get Dean/show critical.
Contains many brotherly moments between Tony and Sam, also featuring great things such as nicknames, snark, and true brotherly love.
There aren’t really any ships featured in this series (except for the explicit work).
Welp hopefully I summed it up well enough, if ya wanna read here’s the link:
Both brothers looked at Melissa for back up. She shifted uncomfortably. No faith healer she’d ever seen had been ‘the real deal.’ There had always been something working behind the scenes. But Dean was hurt and she couldn’t do anything about it. Whatever LeGrange was using was working, and that’s all she cared about.
In the beginning that was the beginning, there was Light and there was Dark. They were vicious in their codependent cycle of destroying everything the other tried to make. These new creations will have none of it.
Michael gets to meet Balthazar because— why is Balthazar trading Heaven’s weapons for human souls? “Balthazar! This is not okay!”
Karate, SPN Demonic Octopus Guardian 