Chapter 1: Black
Chapter Text
“Right, right. So, no noticeable crop failures, no mass cattle deaths, nothing,” Sam asks. He was sitting in the library, with books on demonic possession taking up all the space on a table. He runs a hand over his face as he listens to Mike, an old hunter friend. “No. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re right. I hear you, Mike. Thanks. That is a good thing. Alright, well keep me posted if anything does pop up. I will. You got it. Thanks.”
Sam hangs up his phone and drops it on the table. He runs a over his face. Two months had passed since Dean had been stabbed and died. Since he had found Dean’s body gone and just a note left behind. He spends his time researching and searching for any sign of Dean or Crowley. Addison had been doing what she could to help search for Crowley or Dean. But she was keeping him at a distance.
“Ads,” Dean gasps as they make their way through the warehouse. “Ads, I love you.”
“I love you too, Dean,” Addison replies, ignoring the tears that had forced their way out.
Sam opens his laptop up and finds a headline. He picks up his phone and scrolls through the contact list. He finds Castiel’s name and taps it, calling the angel. “Sam,” Castiel tiredly greets. “Hello.”
“I think I might have found something,” Sam replies.
“Oh, good, good,” Castiel says, coughing.
Sam frowns, concerned. “Cas? You there?”
“It’s okay, I’m, um, I’m okay. Go…go on.”
“Alright, get this. ‘A John Doe’ who was murdered in Wisconsin a week ago turns out to be this guy named Drew Nealy who went missing from a religious order in Northern Ohio…okay?”
Castiel coughs. “Yeah?”
“Now, Drew Nealy had been missing for three years. Killed his wife, his kids…just disappeared. I know it’s thin, but…if this guy was possessed…”
“That would make him the first…” Castiel coughs once more.
“The first lead, the first anything we’ve seen in…” Sam trails off as he listens to Castiel cough. He knew the angel wasn’t doing well with his depleted grace.
“Sorry.”
“Actually, you know what…now that I’m looking at this more I think I uh…I think I jumped the gun here, buddy.”
“No, Sam, you said it was something.”
“Yeah, uh, it’s-it’s not. I was wrong, sorry.”
“I can help.”
Sam sighs. “Cas…we tried that.”
“Sam, you can blame what that demon ddid to your shoulder on me. You were out of—”
“I’m not,” Sam quickly reassures. “I’m not blaming anything on you. What happened, happened and…you need to be worrying about yourself. I really shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“How are you, Sam?”
“Good. I’m alright. I’m just…tired, you know. Be better when we get him back…after…after I kick his butt.”
“I miss him.”
“Yeah.”
“Why would he just disappear?”
“Who says he had a choice?”
“Well then, who wrote the note? If there’s any chance…any chance at all that Dean is still…”
“Still…even remotely Dean,” Sam finishes. Silence hangs over them.
“Have you heard from Ads,” Castiel questions.
Sam sighs. “Yeah, yeah. She’s fine,” he lies. “I’ll talk with you later.” He hangs up and sets his phone down on the table.
Footsteps sound on the stairs. Sam turns around and stares. He hadn’t expected Addison to be there. “Hey,” she greets, walking towards him. She had plastic bag in hand. Her hair was shorter. It ended just above her shoulders now. There was a long cut on her right cheek. It was red, which let him know that it was recent. Addison sets the bag on the table and pulls out a wrapped sandwich. “I got us lunch. The best gyros in the midwest.”
“Thanks.” Sam takes the sandwich from her.
“Yeah,” Addison replies. He shoots her a soft smile but she doesn’t return it.
“You cut your hair,” Sam states.
“I needed a change.”
“Oh. I like it. It looks cute.”
“Thanks.”
Sam shifts. He hated the awkwardness between them. “I think I found a lead. Wisconsin. Do you want to check it out with me?”
Addison nods. They knew how to work together. They knew how to put things between them to the side and focus on the job; focus on what needed to get down. “Okay. We’ll leave in the morning. Check it out.”
Addison stands up. She starts to walk away from the table when Sam grabs her arm. She looks at him, waiting. “Thanks for the gyro.”
“No problem,” Addison replies, then walks away leaving him sitting at the table.
“I think I found a lead,” Sam says, walking into the bedroom he shared with Addison. He frowns as seeing she was packing a duffle bag. He doesn’t miss that all of his stuff is sitting in a neat pile on the bed. “Ads—”
“Sam, I can’t do this anymore,” Addison interrupts. She zips up her duffle bag.
Sam frowns. “Do what?”
“This. Us. I expect all your stuff out of my room by the time I get back.”
“You’re breaking up with me?”
“Yeah,” Addison softly confirms.
Sam shifts. He lets out a frustrated breath. “Ads, we can figure this—”
“No,” Addison tells him. “No. We…” She shakes her head. “I’ll work my leads on Crowley and Dean and you’ll work your leads. Okay?” She doesn’t wait for answer before walking out her bedroom, leaving a confused Sam standing there.
“Appreciate you coming down, agents,” the detective says, leading Sam and Addison into a office within in the police station. He walks over to his desk and boots up the computer. “But I’m afraid you may have just cost Uncle Sam a tank of gas.”
“Oh, why’s that,” Sam questions.
“You came up here to investigate Drew Neely’s murder, right?”
“Right.”
“Problem is, no one’s certain it was a murder at all.”
Addison frowns. “What are we dealing with a here? Suicide?”
“Self defense, more likely. Uh, the surveillance footage was corrupted. Our techies finally managed to clean up the file.” He turns to the computer. “Hold on a sec now…” He brings up the security footage of the gas station. “That John Doe right there is the one you want to keep your eye on.”
“Son of a bitch,” Sam mutters. Dean was on the screen, reading a magazine. He had a baseball hat on.
“Watch. Okay, now, porn guy’s just minding his own business. And there’s Drew Neely. See the knife.”
Addison watches as a second figure walks up to Dean with a knife drawn. “Yeah,” she breathes.
“That’s intent right there. Now watch this.” Sam and Addison watch as Drew Neely jumps Dean. He easily dispatches the demon by using the First Blade. “Looks like a cutlass or something. I don’t know what the hell this is. Problem is, we don’t know if this guy’s a hero or a psychopath.” The detective stops the security footage, freezing on Dean’s face. “That’s the image that’s getting uploaded to the wires.”
Addison clears her throat. “Detective, do you mind if we take another look at this?”
The detective shrugs. “Knock yourselves out. I’ll be back in a few.”
Sam nods. “All right.” The detective walks out of the room. He rewinds the footage a few seconds and plays it frame by frame. Stopping it when Dean’s eyes flash back.
“Son of a bitch,” Addison breathes. “I don’t know about you, but killing Crowley is officially at the top of my to do list.”
“Join the club.”
“Oh, yeah. Porn guy was an animal,” Mickey, the employee at the Gas-N-Sip, tells Sam and Addison. “Bro came at him like, ‘what?!’ And he was all like ‘what?’ ‘Say my name! Say my name! Say…my…name.’ And there was a lot of blood.”
“Right. Um…when the guy, uh, when…Porn guy came in, did he…say anything,” Sam questions.
Mickey blinks. “Where’s the porn?”
Addison raises an eyebrow. “That’s what he said? I mean, did he buy anything? Did he use a credit card? Did he mentioned where he might be going?” Mickey stares at her. “So, a guy comes in and kills another guy and you just keep…keepin’ on?”
“You mean when porn guy was stabbing the other guy to death ten feet in front of me and I was having a total code brown moment in my favorite freakin’ pants because I thought I was next, did I conduct a field interview? No.” Mickey reaches under the counter and pulls out a cell phone. “Oh, hey. Uh, can you guys do me a solid? Found this wedged under the T.P. I think it’s the dead guy’s phone, and, uh, if you’re heading back to the station…”
Addison picks up the phone and walks out of the gas station. Sam forces a smile then follows after her. He could sense that she was annoyed about something. “Ads—”
“You deal with this,” Addison interrupts, handing him the cell phone.
“Are you okay,” Sam questions, leaning against the rental car and scrolling through the phone.
“I’m fine…Just…Dean deserves so much better than Crowley using his body for some random ass low rent demon.” Addison shakes her head. “If I had just…” She wipes the angry tears away. “This is my fault. I should’ve…” She trails off.
Sam shoots her a comforting smile. He hadn’t realized she had been feeling guilty. “Ads, you can’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Son of a bitch.”
“What?”
Sam shows her the screen of the phone.
Winchester. Amherst Junction, WI Gas-N-Sip B/W 11a-12p. Long live Abaddon.
“Son of a bitch,” Addison mutters. Sam sets the phone on the car hood and pulls out his own phone. After opening an app and connecting the phones via Bluetooth, he picks it up and dials the number. He puts the phone on speaker.
“You’re dead,” Crowley greets.
“Nope. Just using a dead man’s phone,” Sam replies.
“Moose. Took you long enough. Your brother and I were beginning to wonder if you’d hit another dog. You know?”
“My brother is dead, Crowley. I know you have some fucking demon parading around in his meat suit, and trust me, you are gonna pay for that.”
“Moose. Moose. I’m afraid you haven’t allowed yourself to dream quite big enough here. Your brother is very much alive, courtesy of the mark. And the only demonized soul inside of Dean is his and his alone. Wee bit more twisted, a little more mangled beyond human recognition, but, I can assure you, all his. There, now. Feel better?”
“And the, uh, Abaddon supporters you’ve been sending to kill my brother, how does Dean feel about that double cross?”
“If that’s what you think is happening, then you’re more out of your depths than I thought.”
“I don’t know how you did this, what kind of…black magic stunt you pulled, but hear me, I will save my brother or die trying.”
“You know what tickles me about all this? It’s what’s really eating you up. You don’t care that he’s a demon. Heck, you’ve been a demon. Even the missing Mrs. Squirrel has been a demon. We’ve all been demons. No, it’s that he’s with me and he’s having the time of his life. You can’t stand the fact that he’s mine.”
“He’s not your pet.”
“My pet? He’s my best friend, my partner in crime. They’ll write songs about us, graphic novels. ‘The Misadventures of Crowley and Squirrel.’ Dean Winchester completes me and that’s what makes you lose your chickens. And once I catch wind of Mrs. Squirrel’s location, we’ll be even more complete.”
Sam glances at Addison who had a frown on her face. “I am going to find you, I am going to save my brother, and then I’m going to kill you dead.”
“Well, that’s the operative phrase, isn’t it? ‘Find you.’ Good luck with that,” Crowley says then hangs up.
Sam sets the phone on the hood of the car and looks at his phone. “They’re in North Dakota,” Sam replies, walking over to the driver’s side.
Addison climbs into the passenger seat. “Do you think it’s true,” she softly asks, looking at him. Sam starts the car. “That Dean is the demon. That his body’s not possessed by one.”
“Crowley has to be fucking with us,” Sam argues.
“Except we don’t know everything about the Mark of Cain. And we both saw what it was doing to him,” Addison softly says.
Sam looks at her. “Then we’ll save him.”
Addison’s soft snoring fills the rental car as it speeds down the two lane road that night. Sam glances at her. He was glad that they were back to working together. Even if their relationship was nonexistent at the moment. He was glad that she was with him to track down Dean and to save his older brother. The car suddenly dies and Sam pulls over to the side of the road. He glances at Addison and decides not to wake her. He climbs out of the car and walks over to the hood. He attempts to open the hood but struggles with only having one hand available. “Damnit,” Sam mutters.
A pickup pulls up behind him and a man not much younger than himself climbs out. “Hey. Need some help,” he asks.
“Uh, yeah,” Sam replies. “I-I think so. It just died on me.”
“Out here?”
“Yeah.”
“Your ride really has it out for you, huh?”
“I guess so.”
The man motions to the hood. “Give you a hand with that?”
Sam nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d appreciate it. Yeah. Thanks.”
The man has no problem opening the hood. He shines a flashlight over the engine. “Ah, these new cars and their computerized brains, huh? One zero out of place and the whole thing just goes kaput.” He shines the flashlight over a grey box with yellow cords coming out of it. “Well, right there. That’s your problem.”
Sam frowns. “What the hell is that?”
“Well, that’s a kill switch. This here is the remote.” The man holds up a small switch. Sam moves to defend himself, but he’s not fast enough with his dominant arm in a sling and is knocked out easily. “Guessing you’re a righty.”
He closes the hood with a bang before grabbing Sam and dragging him over to the pickup. The noise causes Addison wake up. She looks around before climbing out of the car. “Sam,” she yawns. She frowns seeing the pickup behind the rental car. “Sam?” A force hits the back of her head and Addison falls to the ground, unconscious.
Addison blinks as the bag over her head is pulled off. The man was standing in front of her. She looks around the bar and finds Sam sitting a few feet away. His nose was light bleeding. “Okay. Home sweet home.” The man walks over to Sam. “You good, partner? How’s that chicken wing?”
“Who are you,” Sam angrily asks.
“First time I broke my arm, my older brother, Davey, had me riding on the handles of his three speed. Decided to pop us a wheelie, look real fancy for all the little pretties outside the DQ. Well, we were looking mighty good for a little bit. And then ‘whoop’ ass end over teakettle, boy. Hurt like a son a bitch. You’re Sam Winchester. And that’s Addison Winchester. I think we can all agree on that. And your older brother…” He looks at Addison. “Your husband, Dean, well…he and I, we go way back.”
Addison frowns. “You’re a hunter?”
“Sure. Yeah, we can go with that. Hunting your husband counts, right?”
Sam tenses. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Yeah?”
“Trust me. Look, buddy, I-I don’t know who you are, all right? I don’t know what you want or what my brother did, but if you got any sense, I suggest you turn tail and run back to that army recruiting ad that spit you out in the first place. He’s a monster.”
“Well, he was. Yeah, he was…many, many moons ago. But now he’s pretty. And I’m the monster now.”
The man holds up Sam’s cell phone and easily finds Dean’s number. He dials it, then puts it on speaker. “I left you and Ads an open tab at the bar,” Dean says. “Knock yourself out.”
“Well, hell, I just may take you up on that.”
“And who is this?”
“Me? Well, I’m karma, brother.”
“On my brother’s phone?”
“On your brother’s phone.”
“Is he dead?”
“No. Not yet. And as long as you show up where I tell you to show up, your brother and wife will be just fine.”
“And how do I know they’re still alive?”
The man walks over to Sam and holds out the phone to him. “Speak.” Sam remains quiet. The man walks over to Addison. “Speak.” She glares at him. He walks back over to Sam and punches.
“Sam,” Addison exclaims. Sam groans.
“Proof of life,” the man tells Dean.
“Dean,” Sam shouts, hoping that his brother was still in there somewhere.
“Got a pen?”
“No, you listen to me,” Dean coldly replies. “There’s no trade. There’s no meet up. There’s no nothing…except the one hundred precent guarantee that, somewhere down the road, I will find you and I will kill you.”
“Well, that’ll be a cold comfort to your dead brother and wife.”
“I told him to let me go. So whatever jam they’re in now, that is his problem.”
“Yeah, well, I’l be sure to pass that on to him as I’m slitting their throats.”
“Yeah, you do that, cause they know me. And they know damn sure that if I am one thing, I am a man of my word.”
The line goes dead, leaving the barn in silence.
Chapter 2: Reichenbach
Chapter Text
Addison stares at the man, listening to him tell her and Sam the story of how Dean murdered his father. She remembered the hunt. Neither she nor Dean had any clue what kind of monster the man was, but Dean had used a silver knife to kill him. She had sat in the Impala, parked a few blocks away from the house. “And that was the night that Dean Winchester murdered my father. And that’s…that’s why he’s gonna die,” the man says and Addison blinks.
“I’m sorry,” Sam replies.
“I’m not looking for your sympathy, Sammy. I’m looking for your brother. So, why don’t you tell me where Dean-o is, and then I’ll let you go.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Really? Now, you know your brother gave me the, uh, green light to put on between your eyes and her eyes, right?
“Dean…Dean isn’t Dean right now. Now, look, I don’t know who you are—”
“Name’s Cole. Listen, Sam…every night…since I was thirteen years old…every night, I close my eyes and all I can see is your brother and all that blood…and my daddy. Now…I know Dean’s family and all, but he gave you both up. And neither of you have a reason to protect him. None. So help me. Please.”
Sam glances at Addison. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad. Whatever happened…Dean had a reason. I don’t know how to tell you this. There are monsters out there.”
“You don’t think I know that? I did two tours in Iraq. Special Ops, Darfur…The Congo. I’ve seen suicide bombers and child soldiers so hopped up on speed that they could barely talk! Oh, but they could sure as hell shoot an A.K.”
“Not that kind of monster.”
“Don’t tell me about monsters! Cause I’ve met my share.”
“I mean vampires! All right? Werewolves. Monster…monsters. Look in the bag,” Sam says, motioning to their weapon bag. “Go on. Take a look. It’s right there.”
Cole reaches into the bag and pulls out a flask. “I guess even psychos need to hydrate.”
“It’s holy water.”
Cole rolls his eyes. “Holy cow.”
“Look, we’re not psycho. And I’m not lying.”
“Well, you see, that’s exactly what a psycho liar would say, so…see my dilemma?” Cole grabs a backpack and sits it on a table. He pulls out a ball peen hammer. “I guess…we are just gonna have to do this the other way.”
“You touch him and I will kill you,” Addison coldly says, speaking for the first time.
Cole looks at her. “Sweetheart, whatever Stockholm Syndrome you have—”
“Fuck me, why does everyone think that,” Addison mutters. “I don’t have fucking Stockholm Syndrome. Does it look like I have fucking Stockholm Syndrome? Because right now, you’re my fucking captor and I have zero positive feelings for you, dickhead. Does your wife know that you’re a raging psychopath?” Cole stares at her. “Tan line on your ring finger. You have a kid?” Addison notices Cole clench a fist. “You do. Wow. You have a wife and a kid and instead of being with them, you’re gonna spend your day torturing two people who aren’t gonna give you the answers you want. You are a pathetic—”
Addison’s cut off when Cole suddenly punches her. “Ads,” Sam shouts, struggling against the ropes wrapped around his wrists.
Addison laughs. “You are a limp dick—” Another punch.
“Where’s Dean,” Cole demands, pulling his fist back to punch Addison once more. “Where is he?”
“Go fuck yourself,” Addison laughs.
Cole lifts the ball peen hammer. “I guess it’s time to crank up the volume, then. Huh?” He raises the hammer, prepared to strike Addison on the knee. Then a phone rings. Cole pulls out his phone and walks out of the barn.
Addison tugs at the ropes and they easily break. She doesn’t miss the surprised look on Sam’s face. She grabs the keys off the ground. The key chain that had a pocket knife on it. She opens it and cuts through the zip tie at her feet. Once free, she helps undo the ropes around Sam’s wrists and cuts off the zip around his feet. She helps him up and they run out of the barn.
“Ads, are you okay,” Sam asks as they reach a road.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Addison tells him. “You?”
“I’m not the one he was beating.”
“I wasn’t going to let him torture you for something you didn’t do,” Addison softly says. She sighs. “His dad was some kind of monster that was eating livers. We’ve never seen anything like that since. I…I did the research, found the guy, and Dean did the killing.”
“You were the brains and Dean was the muscle,” Sam amusedly says.
Addison rolls her eyes. “Only because I had a bad cold.” Sam pulls out his phone. “Who are you calling?”
“Cas,” Sam answers.
The phone rings. “Sam,” Castiel greets.
“You need to get to Beulah, North Dakota. Now,” Sam tells him.
“I do?”
“Yes. Crowley and Dean were there. We got to pick up their trail.”
“Good. Great.”
“Yeah, um, not so much. Cas…Dean’s a demon.”
“Dean’s a demon? How?”
“Best guess is the Mark,” Addison answers. “It just…messed him up or something. I don’t know.”
“Ads,” Castiel brightly says. “When did you get back?”
“Cas, listen,” Sam says, cutting short the reunion. “I know you’re not feeling so hot, but this is kind of an ‘all hands on deck’ situation here, so…”
“So…I’ll meet you both there.”
“Yeah.” Sam spots a pickup truck sitting outside of an abandoned house. “Come on.”
Sam shifts as he sits behind the steering wheel of the stolen pickup. Addison was sitting in the passenger seat, legs tucked under her as she stares intently at her iPad. He glances at her and finds that she was biting her lower lip, something that she did when she was deep in thought. He coughs and turns his gaze back to the road in front of them.
“Are you okay, Sam,” Addison asks, setting her iPad on the seat between them.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Sam replies.
Addison stares at him for a moment. “Why does Cas think I went somewhere?”
“I worked with him and he asked where you were. I told him you were off helping another hunter with a case.”
“So, who else did you lie to?”
“Anyone who asked where you were.”
“Good to know.”
“I could’ve used your help, you know,” Sam says, glancing at her. “I called. A lot.”
“I know.”
“Then why didn’t you pick up whenever I called? No, you know what, where the hell have you been? You break up with me, then disappear for two months, and walk back into the Bunker like everything’s fine between us.”
Addison picks up her iPad off the seat. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Sam,” she tells him before turning her attention back to the iPad. “But it doesn’t change anything.”
Sam tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Are you going to tell me where you got that cut on your face,” he questions.
“No.”
Sam glances at her once more. He shakes his head, deciding to focus on the road in front of them. “Whatever.”
Addison shows a photo of Dean to the security guard, who had a black eye and his left arm in a sling. “Hmm. That’s the guy,” the security guard confirms. “I called 911, but he was gone before they showed up.” He motions to Sam’s injured arm. “That dude get to you too?”
“Oh, uh, no,” Sam replies. “This is, uh, just a…hunting accident.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. Would you do us a favor? If you do see him again, will you give us a call,” Sam says, handing the guard a business card.
“Yeah. You bet.”
“Thanks.”
Addison smiles and walks with Sam over to the pickup truck. “Hello, Bullwinkle,” a voice calls out and they turn to see Crowley. “And Mrs. Squirrel. Didn’t realize you were back in town.”
“What do you want,” Addison coldly asks.
“You’re here for Dean. I’m here to give him to you.”
Sam and Addison exchange a confused look. “What,” Sam replies.
“The little prat’s bad for business. He’s….uncontrollable. Must be the Mark. Anyway, Dean’s your problem now…again, forever.”
“Then where is he?”
“First, there’s the small matter of my finder’s fee.”
Sam and Addison walk into the bar to find Dean sitting at a piano. His back was to them. Addison glances up at Sam. “Hiya, Sam, Ads,” Dean greets, without turning to look at them. Dean looks at the bartender in front of him. “Hey, Harv, why don’t you go grab a smoke?” The bartender walks out of the room and Dean turns to face them. He takes in Sam’s injured arm. “Who winged you?”
“Does it matter,” Sam replies.
“Not really. I told you both to let me go.”
“You know we can’t do that.”
“By the way,” Addison says. “Your new BFF, Crowley, sold you out.”
“Sounds like him,” Dean replies, staring at her.
“Dean, hold on a second,” Sam says, drawing his older brother’s attention. “You don’t have to do this. Look, we know how to cure demons. You remember that?”
“Little Latin, lot of blood. It rings a bell. Did you ever stop to think that if I wanted to be cured, I wouldn’t have bailed?”
“That was Crowley.”
Dean smiles. “It really wasn’t.”
“It doesn’t matter, all right? Cause whatever went down, whatever happened, we will fix it.”
“Will we? Cause right now, I’m doing all I can not to cover over there and rip your throat out…with my teeth. Or doing all the things I’ve wanted to do to Ads since we came back from Purgatory. I’m giving you both a chance, Sam. You should take it.”
Addison steps forward. “We’re gonna have to pass.”
“Well, I’m not walking out that door with either of you. I’m just not. So, what are you two gonna do? Are you gonna kill me?”
“No.”
“Why? You don’t know what I’ve done. I might have it coming.”
“Well, I don’t care,” Sam argues. “Because you are my brother. And we’re here to take you home.”
Dean snorts. “‘You’re my brother and we’re here to take you home.’ Yeah, what is this, a Lifetime movie? Huh? With your puppy dog eyes? Oh, thanks, Sammy. I needed that.” Addison pulls out the handcuffs etched in Enochian. “You really think those are gonna work?”
Addison shrugs. “I think we’re about to find out.”
A window breaks and they turn to see a gas canister flying through the air. Smoke was emitting from the can. Coughing, Sam and Addison run out of the bar. A fist comes out of nowhere and knocks Sam out. A hand grabs Addison’s arm and yanks her back. The cold metal of a gun against her temple causes Addison to freeze.
“Wow. It’s really you,” Cole says and Addison lets out a frustrated breath.
“We met,” Dean coldly replies as Cole turns around while keeping a tight grip on Addison.
“Talked on the phone.”
“Right. Right. You’re the guy who’s supposed to put bullets in Sammy’s and Ads’ brains. Did you miss?”
“Well, I had a better idea. I figured if I let your bro and wife escape, they’d go running to you and all I had to do was tag along. And now here we are, finally…Dean Winchester.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Great. A groupie.”
“You remember me?”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re that guy from that thing.”
Cole stares at Dean. “Nyack, New York, June 21, 2003.”
“That supposed to ring a bell?”
“It was the night you gutted and murdered a man by the name of Edward Trenton. He was my father.”
Dean shrugs. “Okay.”
“‘Okay?’”
“Well, hey, I’m not saying I didn’t slice and dice your old man. I’m just saying that he wasn’t the first and he certainly wasn’t the last and they all just kind of get blended up.”
“I saw you…that night…after. You let me live. That was dumb. Real dumb. I spent half my life training for this moment. I’ve played out this fight a thousand times in my mind. And I know all about you, Dean-o. And you’re good. Oh, you’re real good. But, you see, I’m better.”
“Prove it. Take a shot.”
“Now, that’s not payback.” Cole shoves Addison forward and she stumbles to the ground. He places his gun in his holster and pulls out a knife. “This is payback.”
Cole leaps forward and attacks Dean. But Dean easily fights off Cole, managing to grab the other man’s gun. He pulls out the clip and empties the gun. “You know…And I’m just spitballing here, but, uh, maybe…you are not as good as you think you are.” Cole lunges for Dean once more but is fought off again. “Oh! You know Kung Fu?”
“I know everything.”
“Well, come on.” Cole attacks Dean. Neither of them notice Addison making her way towards where Sam was slowly sitting up. Dean throws Cole to the ground. “What did you think was gonna happen, huh? You just stroll up here and say ‘my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die.’ And I’d just roll over? Well, that’s just…it makes me sad.” Cole quickly pulls another knife and slashes Dean across the face with it. Dean grabs Cole and slams him against a car. “You have no idea what you walked into here, do you? None.”
Cole can only stare as the cut on Dean’s face heals. “What are you?”
“I’m a demon.”
Dean pulls out the First Blade and presses it against Cole’s throat. “Do it! You said if you saw me, you would kill me, so do it!”
Dean stares at Cole, then steps back. “I guess I changed my mind.”
Holy water lands on Dean’s face and he lets out a groan as it burns him. Sam snaps the Enochian handcuffs on Dean, who fights against them. “Stop,” Sam shouts. “It’s over! It’s over!”
Addison watches as Sam pulls out the First Blade from his jacket. Dean was handcuffed to one of the back doors of the Impala. “A pleasure doing business,” Crowley says. None of them needed to look to see the anger on Dean’s face.
“What are you gonna do with it,” Sam questions.
“Toss it into a volcano, leave it on the Moon. I’ll get creative. Believe me, I don’t want Dean getting his hands on the precious any more than either of you do. He knows I ratted. He tends to hold a grudge. I don’t want to get…boned.”
Sam hands the blade over to him. “This doesn’t make us square. If I see you again—”
“Oh, stop it, Samantha. No one likes a tease.”
Crowley vanishes with the blade. Addison looks up at Sam. “So, what do we do now,” she asks.
“We get Dean back to the Bunker. I’ll get some purified blood and we save him,” Sam tells her then walks over to the Impala. Addison stands there for a moment, then makes her way to the familiar car.
A few hours later, as the Impala speeds down the dark two-lane highway, Addison breaks the silence. “This thing is disgusting,” she mutters, eyeing the food wrappers spread around the Impala.
“It’s just a car, Ads,” Dean says, leaning forward. Addison shifts. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck.
Sam glances at him in the rearview mirror. “It’s just a…car,” he disbelievingly repeats. “Wow. You really have gone dark.”
“You have no idea.”
“You know what, Dean? I saw what happened back there. You could have killed that guy and you didn’t. You took mercy on him.”
“You call that mercy? Imagine you spend your whole life hunting down the guy that knifed your father. When you finally find him…he whips you like a dog. How do you think that feels? That guy’s gonna spend his whole life knowing that he had his shot and that he couldn’t beat me. That ain’t mercy. That’s the worst thing I could have done to him. And what I’m gonna do to you, Sammy…What I’m gonna do to Ads…well, that ain’t gonna be mercy either.”
Chapter 3: Soul Survivor
Chapter Text
Sam walks into the dungeon to see his older brother tied to the chair in the middle of the devil’s trap. He sets the cooler filled with blood that had been blessed by a priest on the table. He doesn’t miss the dried blood on Dean’s upper lip. “Really,” Dean asks, eyeing the cooler with distaste.
“For whatever it’s worth, I got your blood type,” Sam replies.
“Sam, I know you and Ads think you’re gonna try and fix me, but…did it ever occur to either of you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you two. What do you care?”
“What do I care,” Sam repeats, pulling out the flask of holy water. He splashes it on the floor while saying the Latin that would begin the process of curing Dean. He makes his way back to the table and opens the cooler.
“You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, fuck that. I don’t want this!”
Sam walks over to the table and picks up the syringe that Addison had left out for him. He sticks it into a blood bag and fills the syringe with the blood. “Yeah, I pretty much figured that out.”
“You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice.”
“Mark of Cain got it.”
“That’s right.”
Sam turns to face Dean. He holds up the syringe. “Buckle up.”
“Sammy, you know I hate shots.”
“I hate demons,” Sam says, then splashes holy water onto Dean, whose skin sizzles. The demon lets out a pain shout. Sam stabs the needle into Dean’s arm and injects the blood into his older brother. He pulls it out. Dean groans. “Look, we got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.”
Sam sets the syringe on the table and walks out of the room. Addison was leaning against the wall. “So, seven more hours of this,” she questions, pushing away from the wall.
“What’d he say to make you punch him,” Sam replies. Addison shifts, remaining silent in response to his question. He nods. The drive to the Bunker had been a tense one for the trio given Dean’s comments about what he wanted to do to Addison. “Yeah. Seven more hours.”
Addison sighs. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be in the library.”
“Ads,” Sam begins. He pauses. He knew that she was exhausted. He was exhausted. “Have you heard from Cas?”
“No,” Addison softly answers, then walks around the corner leaving Sam alone.
Addison sighs as she walks out of the bar. She thought she had a lead on Crowley or Dean. But it had turned out to be a bust. Almost two months had passed since she had left the Bunker. Since she had broken up with Sam. Since Dean had died and his body had vanished. She reaches the familiar cherry red Mustang that she had parked behind the bar. After leaving the Bunker, she had gone to where she had stashed her father’s car after Bobby’s house had burned down.
Addison reaches into her jacket pocket and starts to pull out the keys. A force slams her against the Mustang, forcing her to drop the keys. She starts to reach into her jacket to pull out the lavender blade when a hand tightly grips her wrist. “I heard you were looking for me,” a familiar voice breathes.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis—” Addison begins.
She’s spun around. The door handle digs into her back. She stares at Dean. His eyes were black. They turn back to their normal green color. “You don’t want to do that, Addison,” he coldly says.
“Then get the fuck out of my best friend, you dick,” Addison angrily says.
Dean humorlessly chuckles. “Did you ever think that I’m all me, Ads?” She remains quiet. He presses the first blade against her cheek and draws it down. She winces. “I look forward to having fun with you.”
“If you’re going to kill me, then just get it over with,” Addison softly says.
“I’m gonna do so much more than that,” Dean tells her, then presses his lips against hers in a rough kiss. She’s frozen for a moment before she kisses him back. His stubble is rough on her skin. Addison places a hand on his chest. She could feel him smirk against her lips. He releases his grip on her wrist. His hand travels down her body. Then suddenly, he’s flying back and lands on the ground with a hard thud. Addison is standing there, with her hand outstretched. Dean laughs, pushing himself up. “Someone learned some new party tricks.”
Addison slowly makes her way towards Dean. “I don’t want to fight you, Dean.”
“Oh, sweetheart, we’re not fighting.”
“Then what are we going to do?”
Dean’s standing in front of her now. “Big Ivy League graduate needs me to spell it out for her.” He grabs her arm and roughly pulls her against his chest. He leans down and she can feel his breath on her face. “Unless you wanna use those new party tricks on me again.”
Addison swallows. She knew what she should do. She closes the gap between them, pressing her lips against his. And for a moment, she’s able to pretend that everything is normal.
“For all you know, you could be killing me,” Dean says as Sam pulls the needle out of his arm. Another hour had passed and another injection had been done. Addison had been making herself scarce, something that Dean had noticed.
“Or you’re just messing with me,” Sam argues, walking over to the table. “Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.”
Dean chuckles. “‘The lore.’ Hunters. Men of Letters. What a load of crap it all is! Oh, you got nothing.”
Sam turns back to him. “You want me to debate you? This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.”
“Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me. The me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something. Guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.”
“Guys like me still got to do what we can.”
“Don’t be so full of yourself, Sammy. Cause, see, from where I’m sitting…there ain’t much different from what turned into to what you already are.”
“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. So, let me ask you…which one of us is really a monster? Hmm?” A quick flash of realization crosses Sam’s face. Dean smirks. “Starting to come back to you now?”
Sam remains quiet. He knew exactly what Dean was referring to. He hadn’t shared it with Addison. He hadn’t felt the need to share it with her.
“You were trying to get a twenty on Crowley and me from any demon you could snag. But Crowley didn’t want to be found and no one showed when you summoned. But you found a way, didn’t you, Sam?” Dean smirks. He could sense Addison outside of the room. “You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you? Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself. And that wife of his married the tattooed guy.”
Sam slams a hand down on the table. “I never meant—”
“Who cares what you meant,” Dean interrupts. “That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.”
Sam angrily grabs a needle and stalks over to Dean. He stabs the needle into Dean’s neck. Dean lets out a pained groan. Sam quickly pulls the syringe out and tosses it onto the table.
“Let me ask you this, Sammy, if this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got this stomach for that, Sam?”
Sam walks out of the room, pulling his phone out in the process. Addison was standing outside of the room. He could tell by the look on her face that she had heard everything that Dean had said. He walks down the hallway with her following him. “Cas. Hey, are you still coming,” he questions after the phone is picked up.
“I’m a few hours away. Is the treatment working,” Castiel replies.
“No, not very well. Look, it…it’s not like it was with Crowley. Dean is in pain. I mean, he’s in bad pain. It’s like he’s barely holding on. Cas…I might be killing him.”
“It might be.”
“So, what? Should I stop?”
“And do what? He’s not possessed. Exorcism is out of the question. The ritual of purified blood is the only treatment I know.”
“Cas, did you not hear what I just said? I could be killing my brother.”
“Sam, he’s not your brother. At least, not now. You have to be prepared for—”
“Killing my brother,” Sam sadly finishes.
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Yeah, all right. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave the entry unlocked for you. Just…hurry.”
Addison watches as he hangs up. “Sam,” she begins.
“I did what I needed to do to find my brother,” Sam snaps. “You left. You broke up with me. And I did what I needed to do to find my brother since you didn’t seem to give a fuck, Addison.”
Addison stares at him. “I was going to ask if you want to take a break and have me take over,” she softly replies.
“Oh.”
“Sam, I—”
“Ads, I’m sorry,” Sam interrupts, leaning against the wall. He runs a hand over his face. “I just…I hate that we might be killing Dean in order to save him.”
“I know.”
Sam stands there for a moment before pushing away from the wall and walking back to the dungeon. Addison stands there for a moment, then follows him. Dean’s head was hanging down. He wasn’t moving. “Hey,” Sam exclaims, quickly running over to him. He lightly slaps Dean’s face. “Hey! Dean! Come on! Come back.”
“No,” Dean whispers.
“Come back to me. You there? Hey!” Dean blinks up at him. “Dean, you okay?”
“Yeah, if you…consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils ‘okay,’” Dean replies, weakly coughing.
Sam steps back. “Look, I can’t stop doing this.”
“Sure you can. You just stop! There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.”
“Oh, I will bring him back.”
“In fact, your, uh, guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new model: Lean, mean, Dean.”
“Right.”
“You notice I tried to get as far away as from you two as possible? Away from your whining, you're complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just…tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since…Forever. Or maybe…maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!”
“This isn’t my brother talking.”
“You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.”
“No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!”
“Well, then, we got nothin.”
“Would you say that to Dad?”
“Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!” Sam walks over to the table and prepares another syringe. Addison was standing near the door. “Ooh. Is this you manning up?”
“This is me yanking your lame ass out of the fire,” Sam snaps. He stabs the needle into Dean’s arm and injects purified blood. He pulls out the needle and tosses it on the table. “You’re welcome.”
Addison meets Dean’s gaze before walking out of the room and closing the door behind her. Sam was nowhere to be seen. She makes her way through the Bunker to Dean’s room. Sam was looking around the room. Nothing had been touched since Dean had left.
“Sam,” Addison quietly begins. Sam doesn’t look at her. She’s not sure what else to say to him. “You know that’s not Dean talking.” She places a comforting hand on his shoulder. “He would never say anything like that.”
“I know,” Sam replies, looking through the photos that Dean always kept. He had seen all the photos that Dean kept. A couple of them together. One with the entire Winchester family. One of Mary and Dean. And one that he had only seen a few times of Dean and Addison in front of Mount Rushmore. He holds up the photo to Addison. “When was this one taken?”
“Spring of ’05,” Addison answers with a soft smile. “We had this case there and afterward I had dragged him with me. Told him that if he didn’t come with me then I would steal the Impala. He acted like he didn’t enjoy it, but I know he did. We saw a mountain goat baby. It was so cute.” Silence settles over the two of them. She lightly rubs his arm. “We’re gonna save Dean. I promise.”
Sam looks at her and Addison softly smiles. “Let’s go save Dean,” he says, then walks out of the room.
They make their way to the dungeon and walk into the room. “Fuck,” Addison lets out seeing the empty chair. She pulls out the lavender blade as Sam pulls the demon knife from the back of his jeans.
“Stick together,” Sam whispers. Addison nods in agreement.
Sam and Addison make their way through the Bunker. Pausing to look around every corner. Never leaving each other’s side. They stop in the kitchen and grab the keys to the control room. Sam knew that shutting the Bunker down was their best shot at stopping Dean.
“Come on, Sammy,” Dean shouts. “Don’t you want to hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time?”
In the control room, Addison unlocks the door and flips the switch for the Bunker’s power. A loud alarm blares throughout the Bunker. Red lights flash. Addison bites her lip as she walks out of the control room with Sam.
“Smart, Sam, Ads! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not til I find you two!”
Addison grabs Sam’s arm. “Sam, I’ll distract him while you get ready to go get Cas,” she whispers.
“I’m not leaving you here alone with him,” Sam quietly argues.
“Sam—”
“No, Ads.”
“Sammy! Ads! You’re just making this worse for yourselves! Oh, by the way, you can, uh, blame yourself for me getting loose,” Dean shouts. “All that blood you pumped into me to make me human…Well. The less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that devil’s trap? Well, I just walked right across it. It smarted, but still.”
Addison exchanges a look with Sam as Dean walks into the control room. The lights in the Bunker flicker back to life.
“Yeah, that’s more like it.”
Sam rushes out from their hiding spot and pulls the door shut, locking it in the process.
“That’s your big move?”
“Listen to me, Dean! We were getting close, okay? I know you’re still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments,” Sam tells him. He glances at Addison when there’s no answer. “Dean?”
Wood splinters and Sam jumps back. Addison grabs his arm as they watch Dean break open part of the door with a hammer. “You two act like I want to be cured! Personally, I like the disease.”
“Dean, stop,” Addison says, holding up the lavender blade. “I don’t want to use this but I will if I have to.”
“Look who’s talking now,” Dean taunts. “That sucks for you, doesn’t it? Cause you really mean it.”
“Look, if you come out of that room, we won’t have a choice,” Sam tells him.
“Sure you will! And I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see…here’s the thing. I’m lucky. Oh, hell, I’m blessed! Cause there’s just enough demon left in me that killing you and torturing Ads? Ain’t no choice at all.”
Sam and Addison run down the hallway as the door finally breaks open the entire way. Sam doesn’t notice Addison head down a separate hallway.
“Sammy? Ads,” Dean shouts, walking down the hallway. He stops and looks down both the hallways. “Come on, Sammy, Ads! Let’s have a beer, talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!”
Addison looks around a corner. A hand wraps around her bicep and she’s yanked against a hard chest. “Dean,” she breathes, staring up at him. She starts to lift the lavender blade but she’s slammed against the tiled wall.
Dean leans in close. “You know, I’ve been wondering if I should tell Sam about how you found me last month.” His lips brush her ear. “And how I fucked you.”
“Dean, let me go,” Addison whispers. He grabs the lavender blade out of her head and throws it down the hallway. It clangs against the ground. “Dean, let me go.”
“How I spent the entire night fucking you. How you chose to come with me.”
Addison closes her eyes. “Dean, let me go.”
“And all the while Sammy doesn’t know.”
“Dean, let me go.”
Dean grabs her jaw. He presses his body against hers. “I look forward to finally tying you up in that dungeon and having my way with you.”
Cold metal touches Dean on the neck and he chuckles. “Let her go, Dean,” Sam says, tightening his grip on the demon-killing knife.
Dean shoves Addison down the hallway before turning to his younger brother. She falls. “You asked Ads to dump me then swooped in and took her all for yourself, didn’t you?” Sam remains quiet. “You may have her now, Sammy, but I was always there first. I popped that cherry long before you got there.” Dean smirks at him. “Do it. It’s all you.”
Sam lowers his arm. Addison slowly sits up. Dean starts toward Sam when arms suddenly wrap around him. “It’s over,” Castiel tells him. Dean struggles against the angel. “Dean, it’s over. It’s over.”
Addison stumbles into the motel room. Dean’s lips are on hers. His hands are everywhere. She shoves his outer shirt down and he tosses it behind him. He rips open the button-up shirt she was wearing. The rest of their clothes are tossed throughout the room. He spins her around and shoves her face first onto the bed. Addison starts to sit up, but he grasps her hips as he climbs on the bed behind her. She lets out a strangled moan when his cock enters her. There was nothing gentle about his movements.
His thrusts are hard and fast. His hands are tightly gripping her hips. Dean grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her up. His hand travels up her up her body. “I’m gonna spend the entire night fucking you,” he tells her. His eyes flash black. “And the only thing you’re gonna remember in the morning is how my dick feels inside you.”
“Dean,” Addison softly moans. He shoves her back down. Part of her knows she shouldn’t have left with him. That she should’ve fought against him. That she should’ve called Sam and Castiel, and let them know that she had found Dean. Except she knows that the moment she had kissed him, had chosen him, that any desire she had to fight him had vanished.
Dean pulls out of her and she’s flipped over. She watches as he crawls over her. His movements were predatory. His cock slides back into her hot center. She pulls him down into a lust-filled kiss. Addison knows in the morning she’ll regret this night. But at that moment, she didn’t care. She was going to enjoy herself.
Addison rubs her shoulder as she watches Sam pull the needle from Dean’s arm. Castiel, with some help from Sam, had managed to get Dean tied back to the chair in the dungeon. Dean’s head was hanging to his chest. “What the fuck are we doing to him, Cas,” Sam asks, placing the syringe on the table. The angel was standing next to Addison. “I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.”
“Well, I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but…also such profound pain. This is easier,” Castiel replies.
Dean lets out a groan and looks up at them. His eyes are black. Then it slowly fades away. Sam picks up a flash and unscrews it. “You look worried,” he says, seeing the looks on their faces.
Sam splashes holy water onto Dean and nothing happens. They let out relieved breaths. “Welcome back, Dean,” he tells his older brother.
Dean walks out of the bathroom to find Crowley staring at a sleeping Addison. The sheet was around her waist. Her face was buried in the pillow. Her soft snoring filled the motel room. The King of Hell looks between the hunter and his new best friend. “Want to explain what’s going on here,” Crowley questions.
Dean shrugs, pulling on his jeans. “She found me. We fucked. She fell asleep. And here we are.”
“She found…how?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Dean yanks up the sheets around Addison. He pulls on his t-shirt and outer shirt. “Stop staring at my wife.”
“Wife?”
“Let’s go,” Dean mutters, then walks out of the motel room. Crowley stands there for a moment, then follows him.
Dean walks into the kitchen that night to find Addison digging through a drawer. The pint of ice cream was sitting on the counter. She had her back to him. His gaze roams over her. She was wearing a simple black camisole and plaid pajama shorts. While he had talked with both Sam and Castiel, he hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to Addison alone.
“Ads, I love you.”
“I love you too, Dean.”
Dean clears his throat and Addison looks at him. She softly smiles. “Hey,” she greets, pulling out a second spoon. “Care for some chunky monkey?” She holds out a spoon. He takes the spoon from her. “How do you feel?”
“Fine. You?”
“Good.” Addison takes a spoonful of ice cream, then pauses. She sets her spoon down. “Look, Dean, about what happened—”
“Ads, I think we shouldn’t be friends right now,” Dean interrupts.
Confusion crosses Addison’s face. “Wha-what do you mean?”
“Ads, we can’t keep doing whatever this thing is,” Dean tells her. “So, we’re not gonna be friends anymore.”
Addison blinks back the tears. She felt like he had ripped out her heart and shattered into a thousand pieces. “Yeah, okay,” she whispers. Dean sets the spoon on the counter and walks out of the kitchen. He’s only a few feet away from the kitchen when he hears the sob she lets out. He wants to walk back in and kiss her; to tell her that she made the wrong choice. That he meant what he said when he was dying and that flash of happiness he felt when she said it back to him. That he had wanted to live when she had kissed him.
Except he doesn’t. Because he knew how much Sam cared about her. He was willing to take a step away from her in order for Sam to be happy.
Chapter 4: Paper Moon
Chapter Text
Dean silently watches as a boat speeds past on the lake. It was a rarity for them to have any downtime. He and Sam were sitting in a couple of folding chairs enjoying some beer while Addison had decided to lay out on the beach. “Hey, something I need to ask you,” Dean says, breaking the comfortable silence.
“Shoot,” Sam replies.
“You’ve been kicked, bit, scratched, stabbed, killed…and you sprain your fucking elbow?”
“Dude, it was more than a sprain. All right? And it was a fucking demon, but—”
“What? That’s sling come with a slice of crybaby pie on the side?” Sam can’t help but smile. It was nice having his older brother back. “Please.”
Sam glances at his brother. “How you doing?”
“Golden, man.”
“Come on.”
“Seriously, I’m good. I am. You know, we got…three more cases of this stuff on ice in the trunk. Taking some ‘we time.’…best decision we ever made.”
Dean holds out his beer bottle and Sam lightly taps it with his beer. “Here that.”
“See that thing in the paper this morning,” Dean asks.
“Maybe it was an animal kill.”
“It was three kills and it was in the same town, all within the last month.”
“Yeah, you’re right. We should call some guys, have ‘em fix it.”
“Good. Smart.”
“Done.”
“Or…we could be in and out. It’s a milk run.”
Sam scoffs. “Right, because that happens…never.”
Dean takes off his sunglasses and runs a hand over his face. “Look, Sam, what we’re doing here, it’s good, okay? You and me hanging out. But I need to work…I need this.”
Sam takes off his sunglasses and shoots Dean a concerned look. “If things go sideways…I mean, like, an inch, you gotta give me the heads up.”
Dean puts his sunglasses back on. “Done. You got my word.” His gaze goes to where Addison was lying out on the beach. She wore a simple black bikini top and a pair of jean shorts. He watches as she bites her lip. She had been pretending their conversation in the Bunker’s kitchen hadn’t occurred. The one where he said he didn’t think they should be friends. But she had been avoiding him. His gaze runs over her back. The anti-possession tattoo on her shoulder stood out. His gaze travels down her back to where the shamrock tattoo on her lower back was. “So, you and Ads—”
“We both know that you don’t like it, but you’re just gonna have to deal with it,” Sam interrupts, shooting Dean an annoyed look. He shifts hoping that Dean couldn’t tell he was lying. Now that he had his brother back, he was determined to get Addison back. To put their relationship back on track.
“Right, right. Deal with you two being a couple,” Dean replies, forcing a smile.
“We’re happy.”
“Good. I’m happy you guys are happy.”
“Good.”
Silence settles over the brothers. Dean sits there for a moment, then stands up and starts packing up their gear. He was anxious to get on the road. He watches as Sam walks over to Addison. He frowns when he sees the flash of annoyance on her face. He wasn’t expecting that from her. Something wasn’t right between them. He could see it. Maybe they weren’t happy. Maybe he could be friends with Addison. Or something more.
Addison had planned to meet up with the boys at the Panheads bar. They had gone to talk to the local police while she had decided to talk to the local coroner. She spots Dean and Sam sitting at a table, talking with a man. Her phone buzzes and she fishes it out of her skirt pocket to see Winston’s name on the screen. “Is there a particular reason you had to call me and not one of the many other hunters that you know,” Addison greets, walking out of the bar.
“Well, you’re the best hunter that I know,” Winston brightly replies.
Addison rolls her eyes. “Thank you for kissing my ass. What do you need?”
“What do you know about a chimera?”
Addison pauses. “You’re hunting a chimera?”
“Yeah. How do you kill it?”
“Chop its head off. All three to be safe.”
“Any particular weapon I should use?”
“Something sharp.”
“So no. Hey, if you’re not busy, I could use a hand on this. It’ll be fun.”
Addison winces. “Um, yeah, I can’t. I got this werewolf thing I’m working on.”
“Do you need a hand? I can come out.”
Addison sighs. “Look, I really appreciate that you helped me out with that vampire nest last month, but, uh, I-I’m good.”
“You’re good taking a werewolf on by yourself,” Winston disbelievingly asks.
“I didn’t say that I was working by myself,” Addison quickly corrects. “Look, I need to go talk to a witness. If you need any more info on the chimera let me know.” She hangs up and shoves it into her skirt pocket. She turns around and runs right into Dean’s chest.
“Who were you talking to,” Dean questions.
Addison shoots him an annoyed look. “None of your business. Where’s Sam?”
“Paying the bar tab,” Dean tells her. Addison nods. She starts to move around him, but he slides an arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. She lets out an annoyed breath, feeling his hand in her pocket.
“Really, Dean,” Addison snaps as he pulls out her phone.
“You were talking to Winston,” Dean asks, looking through her phone.
“Can I have my phone back?”
“Hey,” Sam greets, walking up to them. He frowns at seeing Dean’s arm wrapped around Addison.
“Ads cheated with Winston,” Dean says, keeping his attention on Addison’s phone.
Sam frowns. “What?”
“Ads cheated with Winston,” Dean repeats, shooting Addison an angry look.
“He helped me take out a vampire nest in Vermont,” Addison clarifies. “I didn’t sleep with him.”
“Yeah. You cheated with Winston,” Dean argues.
Addison snatches her phone out of Dean’s hand. “You were a demon. And Sam was in no condition to take on a nest of vampires. Who else was I supposed to call?”
“Anyone but this douche, Ads. The guy is always a dick to you.”
Addison shakes her head. “Can we just focus on the case? We have a werewolf to track down.”
“Last time I checked,” Addison begins, climbing out of the Impala. She had changed out of her fed suit while the boys had shed the game warden shirts that they used. Sam had caught her up on what they had learned while talking with the sheriff and the witness. “Ghosts don’t rip open throats and then rip out a heart. At least not the same way a werewolf would do it.”
“Yeah, well, this fleabag, looks like she ain’t done chowing down on Sons of Anarchy just yet,” Dean argues, checking the magazine of his gun.
“Guess she likes bad boys,” Sam comments.
Dean smirks. “Well, wait till she gets a load of us.”
Addison shakes her head. She turns on her flashlight and the boys follow suit. Dean motions for Sam to go one way then motions for Addison to follow him. Addison and Dean make their way to the barn. They exchange a look at seeing the dead chickens on the ground. He notices the scratches on the door and nudges Addison. They each pull out their guns as they slowly enter the barn.
“Stop ignoring my calls. Pick up the phone and call me right now,” a feminine voice angrily demands. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Look, I’ve been down this road before and I’m not going to…” The woman stops talking. The woman suddenly takes off through the barn. Dean runs after her. The woman doesn’t escape, running straight into Sam instead.
“What,” Dean asks as he and Addison catch up to Sam and the blonde woman. Sam turns the woman around and they instantly recognize Kate. The werewolf that they had learned about through a documentary she, her boyfriend, and his best friend had made. “Kate?”
Dean has no problem trying Kate up with some rope. Her hands are suspended above her head. “I know who you are,” Kate says.
“Congratulations,” Dean deadpans.
“After what happened at school, I thought you’d let me go.”
“That was before you started ripping hearts out of bodies,” Addison points out.
Kate frowns. “What?”
“Guy at the bar saw you before you went all Wolverine on his buddy,” Dean clarifies. “So, surprise. Here we are.”
“Kate, you said you were gonna go straight,” Sam softly says. “What happened?”
“I guess things change,” Kate answers. “Being this…I tried to be strong, but the hunger was too much. Too hard. It’s not like anyone gave me a handbook on how to be a werewolf.”
“Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job so far. Break some hearts, then you eat ‘em,” Dean adds.
“I was on my own. I…evolved.”
“That’s what you call killing innocent people,” Addison disbelievingly asks.
Kate rolls her eyes. “Whatever you’re gonna do, just…do it.”
Dean exchanges a look with Sam and Addison. He raises his gun and pulls back the hammer. He hesitates then readies himself. Sam reaches out and puts a hand on Dean’s arm. Dean uncocks the weapon as Sam motions for them to step away. “Hey. You know what,” Sam softly begins. “Let me do it.”
Dean frowns. “Why?”
“Because…I think you should sit this one out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re not ready, Dean.” Sam’s phone rings. Addison glances behind them to see Kate still hanging there. “Hello?” Sam frowns. “When? Of course. Thank you. Um, I’ll be in touch.” He hangs up his phone and looks between Dean and Addison. “We got a problem.”
“What, besides, uh, werewolf Barbie over here?”
“Yeah. There was another kill, across town, just before dark.”
“Well, how did Kate get her murder on and then get back here—” Dean stops at the look that crosses Sam’s face. “You don’t think she did it.”
“Look, I don’t know, man. But as far as I’m concerned—” Sam’s cut off by the sound of rope breaking. They turn to see Kate running out of the barn’s back door.
“Damn it,” Addison lets out.
“Come on,” Dean mutters, walking out of the barn with Sam and Addison right behind him. “All right, if she’s not icing people, then why play the big bad wolf?”
“Maybe she’s running with a pack? You know, trying to protect them,” Sam suggests.
“Well, a hell of a price to pay. She was about two seconds away from taking a dirt nap.”
Addison shakes her head in disbelief when Dean pulls out a cell phone with a bright pink case. “Seriously, Dean.”
Dean smirks. “Let’s see who she was booty calling when we pulled up.”
He pulls up the call log and selects the most recent number before putting it on speaker. “Thank you for calling the Lincoln Motel. Can I help you,” a feminine voice says. Dean hangs up and they run out of the barn. They climb into the Impala and speed away from the barn.
Dean shifts, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “So what this about me not being ready back there,” he questions, glancing at Sam.
“I’m…I wasn’t…trying to start something, Dean,” Sam defends. “I was just saying, I thought that was the whole of us taking a break. You know?”
“Oh, no. No, yeah. I get that. And you know, there’s no worries there.”
“Okay.”
“But I gotta ask. What about you?”
Sam frowns. “What about me, what?”
“Are you ready?”
“Why wouldn’t I be ready?”
“Lester.”
“Lester?” Dean nods in confirmation. “You’re serious? This is about Lester?”
“Um, don’t get me wrong. I’m not—I’m not—I’m not trying to start anything either, okay? I’m just saying, maybe…maybe we oughta talk about that.”
“Okay, except there’s nothing to talk about.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Addison looks between the boys. She had a feeling this wasn’t over.
“I just figured, since we’re opening up veins that maybe you’d want to talk about the guy who you made sell his soul,” Dean continues.
“The guy who you then killed, right? I mean, that’s the same guy we’re talking about?”
“I was a demon.”
“Oh, you were a demon? Oh, I didn’t realize that.”
“Hey, man, Lester was gonna pay for that soul shake sooner or later. So technically, it’s still on you.”
“What do you want from me, Dean? Look, I…I’m not happy about it, okay? But I need to find you. So if I had to…ben a few rules…”
“Go dark,” Dean suggests.
“Go dark. Sure. Label it if you want.”
“Look, man, again, I’m not complaining, okay? In fact, I’m doing just the opposite of complaining. I…I just…you know between Lester and the others…”
Sam shoots him an annoyed look. “There weren’t others.”
“Okay, either way, maybe we both needed the time off.” Dean glances at Sam, who just rolls his eyes. “This is good. This is good.”
“Yeah. Okay,” Sam replies. Addison leans against the seat and sighs.
Dean silently watches the motel room door through the side view mirror. Addison was currently lying down in the back seat while Sam had gone into the office to talk to them. “So you didn’t know anything about Lester,” he asks, breaking the silence.
“No,” Addison replies.
“What were you doing?”
“Well, according to you, I was cheating with Winston,” Addison says. “Which, by the way, I am allowed to work with other hunters.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t allowed to work with other hunters. I just don’t think you should work with Winston. Guy’s a giant douche, Ads.”
Addison rolls her eyes. “I don’t get why you hate him so much, Dean. You know what, why are we even talking about this? You’re the one who said you didn’t want to be friends. And you’re acting like we’re friends. You have been since we left the lake.”
Dean’s saved by answering when Sam walks back over to the Impala. “All right, so the, uh, clerk says a blonde rolled into room three just before sunup,” he tells them.
“She alone,” Dean questions.
“He thinks so.”
Dean notices movement from the room he was watching. The door opens and Kate walks out. “She’s on the move.”
Dean and Addison climb out of the Impala. The trio keeps their distance as they follow Kate through a local park. “What’s she doing,” Sam quietly asks as they watch Kate follow a jogger.
“Looking for breakfast,” Dean replies. As they see Kate approach the jogger, the trio pull out their guns. “Kate!”
“It’s over,” Sam adds.
Kate turns around and the trio finds that it isn’t Kate. It’s another blonde woman who quickly holds up her hands. “Oh, god. Please, don’t. I’ll give you anything you want.”
The trio lowers their guns. “Where’s Kate,” Sam asks.
“Who?”
“You were just in her motel room,” Dean argues.
“What? That’s my room.”
“Why were you following that guy?”
“Robbie? I-I know him. I just wanted to surprise him.”
“Test her,” Sam says, looking between Dean and Addison.
The woman looks between the trio. “Test me for what?” Dean puts his gun in the back of his jeans and pulls out a silver knife from his jacket. He slowly walks towards the woman. “No! Help! Somebody help me!”
“Just take it easy,” Dean says.
“I don’t want to die.” The woman suddenly changes. Fangs appear. Claws grow from her nails. Her eyes turn yellow. She has no problem throwing the brothers into the trees. Addison stares at the werewolf. She puts her gun in the back of her jeans and holds out her hands, showing that she was unarmed. The woman tackles Addison to the ground. Hands wrap around Addison’s throat. Addison’s eyes flash blue as she claws at the woman’s hands. Suddenly, the woman is pulled off of Addison.
“Stop it,” a voice shouts. “Stop it!” The woman runs off. Addison takes a deep breath. She sits up to see Dean aiming his gun at the woman’s retreating back. “Don’t! She’s my sister.” Dean takes off in search of Kate’s sister.
Sam walks over to Addison. He places a protective hand on her back while keeping an eye on Kate. “Ads, you okay,” he quietly asks.
“I’m fine,” Addison tells him. She crosses her arms over her chest while she stares at Kate.
“I lost her,” Dean announces, rejoining them.
“Why is your sister a werewolf, Kate,” Addison angrily asks. Dean aims his gun at Kate.
“Hey, hey,” Sam says, making his way to Dean.
“Why,” Dean demands.
“Let her talk.”
“I am!”
“Then put the gun down.”
“Why? So she can run again? Nuh-uh.”
“She just saved our lives,” Sam points out.
Dean keeps his gun on Kate, who stares at him with a pleading look. He glances at Addison, who subtly nods. He lowers his gun. “My sister is a werewolf because I turned her into one,” Kate begins.
“Okay, this item part where you help yourself out,” Dean tells her.
“I-I don’t care. All right? I’m sick of the lies.”
Dean shoves his gun into the back of his jeans. “Let me get this straight. We let you run because we take pity on you and you turn around and you start making pups? You start killing people?”
“It’s not like that! I’m no killer.”
“Well, the way I remember it from the snuff film that you left us, is that you killed your boyfriend’s best friend.”
“That’s because Brian went crazy. I had no other choice.”
“Okay, Kate, if this wasn’t you,” Sam begins.
“That’s a big ‘if,’” Dean mutters.
Sam shoots him an annoyed look. “Then who was it? Your sister? Your sister do this, Kate?”
Dean stares at Kate. “Really?” Kate remains silent. “You almost took a bullet for her and you got nothing?”
“What do you want me to say,” Kate sadly asks.
“How about you start with the truth,” Addison angrily tells her.
Sam clears his throat as he notices joggers nearing them. “Hey, guys. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Can we, uh, take it somewhere else?”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Oh, yeah, sure. Go grab some coffee, maybe some bear hearts.” He motions for Kate to start walking. “Let’s party.”
Addison squirms as she’s squished between Dean and Sam in the diner booth across from Kate. “Just so you know, Brian’s the reason I carry this,” Kate says, reaching around to her back pocket. Addison feels Dean tense beside her.
“Hey,” Dean coldly says, reaching for his gun. Addison covers her hand with his.
“I’m just showing you something,” Kate explains, pulling out a silver knife. “In case I ever lose it, like Brian did, you won’t have to kill me.”
“Yeah, well, saying it and doing it are two different things.”
“I’m serious. And whether you believe me or not, I’ve never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. And I have never, ever eaten a human heart.”
“That explains all the dead chickens at the barn,” Addison states.
“I eat what I can find, what people won’t miss, hopefully. Small game, deer. I meditate. Yoga helps.”
Sam raises an eyebrow. “Yoga?”
Dean scoffs. “Okay.”
“You laugh, but…I’ll pretty much try anything to keep that side of me under control,” Kate replies.
“Well, that is great, Kate. It really is. And it’s nice to see that, uh, this hippie-dippie new age shit has had such a positive influence over your sister.”
Kate sighs. “Tasha…she’s a different story. After I left school, I was…adrift. Lost. Not really sure where to go or…what to do, so…I went someplace safe. I went home. But…even though I’d be good, I start to think about my family. How safe were they going to be? I was a werewolf. And then, of course, there was you three. What if you showed up and tried to kill me? I couldn’t risk that. So I…walked away. Never called, never wrote, just…started a new life. Until one day, I saw a posting on my sister’s Facebook page. Tasha had been in a really bad car accident. The doctors didn’t think she was gonna make it. We were always so close, so…I had to go say goodbye.
“Then…It hit me. This curse that I had, that had brought me nothing but pain and suffering, could actually finally maybe do something good. If I turned Tasha into a werewolf, it would heal her wounds, save her life, give her a second chance. So, uh…I did the unthinkable. At first, I thought I’d failed, that…Even though werewolves heal quickly, it was too late for Tasha. Then she woke up, not sick anymore, but okay. Tasha had so many questions. What happened? How did she get here?
“So…I was straight with her. The good, the bad, the ugly. What we were and why we could never go back home and…the responsibility we had to control what we’d become. It was a lot to swallow. But we had each other and that felt like enough. Or…so I thought. My sister, she gave in to everything that I had warned her about. And…I knew, even if I couldn’t bring myself to to admit it then…I knew I was going her.”
“So back at the barn, that was all just an act to protect Tasha,” Sam questions.
“She’s family. And, yeah, worth eating a bullet for.” The boys exchange a look over Addison’s head. “And she needs me now more than ever. This is my mess. I gotta clean it up.”
“How do you plan on doing that,” Addison asks.
“By getting Tasha out of here.”
“She hasn’t listened to you yet. Why would you think that she’s gonna start now?”
“I don’t know but…I’ve gotta try. You know, we’ll go out into the woods. We’ll drop out for however long it takes until she learns to control this.”
“Little late for team building, do you think,” Dean comments.
“So, what? I just abandon her? I did this. I owe her every chance to make it right.”
“What if she never does,” Sam questions.
“Then I’ll take care of it.”
“You’ll take care of it,” Dean repeats. “You know what that means?”
“Why don’t you ask Brian?”
“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to come to that. You know, if you had shot straight with us from the get-go, we might’ve been able to help you a lot sooner.”
“What do you mean?”
“But curing you both.”
Dean’s met with incredulous looks from Sam and Addison. Kate has a look of disbelief. “Shut up,” Kate lets out.
“Yeah, okay, or you're welcome,” Dean replies.
“There is no cure for werewolves.”
“And for a long time, that was true, but we found one. Now, we’ve got everything we need on our end. Okay? But the clock is tickin’ and we need one more thing. Tasha. Unless, you wanna do this without her?”
“No. No. It’s a long drive, but…I know where to find her.”
A short while later, the trio is standing at the trunk of the Impala. Kate was in the diner’s bathroom, leaving them alone. “Are you out of your fucking mind,” Addison hisses. “There is no cure. You know that.”
Dean flashes the silver knife in his jacket. “There’s one.”
“Dean, it’s a little more complicated than that,” Sam argues.
“Kate and Tasha are monsters, okay? Last I checked, we kill monsters.”
“Right, but how can you possibly blame Kate for fighting for her sister? We do it all the time.”
“Well, yeah, and that’s worked wonders for us.”
“Well, we’re still here, aren’t we?”
“Yeah, but is it right? I mean, all that you’ve both done for me, I still got this Mark.”
“And we’ll fight that out. We always do. But you can’t take whatever’s happened to us or to you and — and dump it at these girls’ feet.”
“All right, so, what? You wanna nuance this thing? Hit me. What’s your plan?”
Sam runs a hand through Addison’s short hair. Her head was in his lap as he was sitting in the backseat of the Impala. She was fast asleep. Kate was sitting in the front seat where it was easier to give Dean directions to where she knew Tasha would be. “Kate,” Sam softly asks.
Dean glances at Kate and finds the werewolf asleep. “She’s out,” he replies.
“Okay. Then, um…I gotta tell you something. I, uh, I lied about Lester,” Sam confesses.
“What?”
“There were others.”
“Other humans?”
“No. No, no. And…And I’m sure there were a few hunters I rubbed…or I…punched the wrong way, but…no. I pretty much saved my best stuff for the bad guys. But you gotta understand something, Dean. I watched you die. And I carried you. I carried your corpse into your room and I put your dead body on your bed, and then you just…”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
“I know. I guess I was hoping that note would, you know, fill in the blanks.”
“‘Don’t look for me,’” Sam disbelievingly says. “That note? Yeah, that was really informative. Thanks.”
“Yeah. I…” Dean trails off.
“What?”
“It’s embarrassing, you know?”
“What’s embarrassing?”
“All of it. You know, the — the — that note. Crowley. Everything.”
“Dean, you were a demon.”
Dean glances at his younger brother over his shoulder. “I was a demon? Oh, thanks. I didn’t — I didn’t realize.”
Sam softly smiles. “Shut up.”
“Not to mention, I never even said ‘thank you’, so…”
“You don’t ever have to say that, not to me.”
“Well, good. Then I guess…guess it’s all gravy. Little R&R and we are back at it.”
Sam sighs. “I lied about Ads. We’re not good. We’re not happy.” Dean remains silent. “She kinda broke up with me.”
“Kinda broke up with you,” Dean questions. He tightens his grip on the steering wheel. This was news to him. He figured that they were still together. Then he remembers her sob after he told her that they shouldn’t be friends at the moment; the look on her face.
“She said she would follow her leads and that I would follow my leads. That’s what we did. She avoided me most of the time. I only saw her at the Bunker a couple of times before I got a lead on a demon and asked if she would join me.”
“Did you know that she worked a job with Winston?”
“Yeah. He told me after I ran into him. He’s one of the hunters I punched.”
Dean nods. He reaches over and taps Kate on the arm, waking the werewolf. Kate shoots up. “Hey. How we doing?”
Kate looks around the dark scenery. “We’re getting close.”
“What is this place?”
“Ever since Tasha and I were little, we’ve been coming up to this cabin with our parents.”
“Now why do you think Tasha will even be here,” Sam questions. He runs his hand over Addison’s upper arm.
“When she became a wolf, we knew it was gonna be hard, so we kinda came up with the escape plan in case things ever got bad.”
“So it’s a rendezvous spot,” Dean questions, glancing at Sam.
“Pretty much.”
A short time later, the Impala pulls up to a cabin. Dean turns off the Impala’s engine. Addison stifles a yawn as she looks at the cabin. They could see a light on inside. “Now what,” Sam asks.
“Maybe I should go in first, explain all this,” Kate suggests.
Dean nods. “Sounds good.” Kate starts to climb out of the Impala when Dean grabs her arm and slaps one-half of a pair of silver handcuffs around her wrist. He puts the other of the handcuffs on the Impala’s steering wheel.
“What are you doing,” Kate exclaims. “You son of a bitch!” Dean stares at her with a hard look. “There is no cure, is there? I trusted you. It’s not her fault. It’s mine.”
“She killed people.”
“Because I did this to her, okay? So if you want your pound of flesh, take me.”
“We’ll deal with you later.”
“But she can be saved!”
“No. Tasha’s in too deep. You don’t ever come back from that, not ever.” Dean opens the door and starts to climb out. “Come on, Sammy, Ads.”
“No! Please! Don’t do this! No! Please! Don’t,” Kate shouts as Sam and Addison climb out of the backseat. “Please, Sam, Addison! Please don’t!”
They pay no attention to Kate’s pleas as they walk towards the cabin. They each pull out their guns as they enter. Sam and Addison split off from Dean as they search the cabin. They come to a bedroom where they find Tasha sitting on the bed. “I can’t believe my own sister betrayed me,” Tasha says.
“She didn’t,” Addison replies, aiming her gun at the werewolf.
“You’re not gonna shoot me,” Tasha tells them.
“Oh yeah?”
“Ads. Sam,” Dean says, walking into the room. Sam and Addison turn to see Dean with his hands up. A man held a gun to his head. Sam aims his gun at the man while Addison keeps her gun on Tasha.
“Drop the guns or Dreamboat here gets his mind blown,” Tasha says.
“Don’t do it,” Dean tells them. The man slams the butt of the gun against the back of Dean’s head and he falls to the ground.
“Well…Sammy, Ads?”
Sam and Addison exchange a look. They reluctantly uncock their guns and set them on the floor. Tasha kicks them to the side. “Tasha,” Kate exclaims as she’s dragged into the room with another man. “What did…who are these people?”
“Brandon. Travis,” Tasha introduces. “I turned them. They’re our new family.”
“Yeah, you’re a regular psycho Brady Bunch,” Dean mocks. A werewolf lunges at Dean, fangs blared.
“Hey,” Addison snaps, moving towards them. One of the werewolves lunges for Addison while Tasha grabs Sam and throws him onto the bed. Tasha wraps her hands around Sam’s throat and strangles him.
“No,” Kate shouts.
“You’ve always had crappy taste in guys,” Tasha says, tightening her grip on Sam’s neck.
“Tasha, we can talk about this,” Kate pleads.
Tasha lets go of Sam and stands up to face her sister. “They were gonna kill me. And now you’re protecting them?”
“No. I’m protecting you.”
“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks.” The sisters stare at each other. “So here’s how it’s gonna be. You can walk away or you can join my pack.”
“I’m not walking away.”
“Then prove you got what it takes.” Tasha motions to Sam. “Eat his heart out.”
“Kate,” Sam gasps. He stares at Kate. “You don’t have to do this.”
“No one’s talking to you, Paul Bunyan!” Tasha and Kate stare at each other. “So?”
“No,” Kate firmly answers.
“Take them. Have some fun,” Tasha tells the other werewolves. “Oh, and I want a heart to go. Put it in a doggie bag.”
The werewolves grab Sam, Dean, and Addison and force them out of the bedroom. “On your knees,” one of the werewolves orders.
“Wow. Well, I’m awfully flat—” Dean’s cut off when he’s suddenly punched in the face and falls to the ground. The other werewolf punches Sam in the stomach causing him to fall to the ground.
Addison holds up her hands. She looks between the two werewolves. “You don’t want to hit me,” she tells them. “And you definitely don’t want to eat my heart.”
One of the werewolves lunges for Addison. She slams a hand against the wolf’s face as she lands on the floor with him on top of her. A bright white light flares from the werewolf’s eyes. Addison shoves the corpse off of her. She vanishes and reappears behind the other werewolf. She places a hand on his back and the same white light emits from his eyes. He falls to the ground, dead.
“Remind me to never piss you off,” Dean says, standing up. He helps Sam up. “How’d the hell you learn to do that, Ads?”
Addison amusedly smiles. “I think you call it hippie-dippie new age shit.” She walks around the brothers to the bedroom. She opens the door and stops at seeing Tasha’s body on the ground. Blood dripped from her mouth. The boys join her. None of them miss the open window leading out of the bedroom.
Addison crumples up the paper towel and tosses it into the bathroom trash can. They had made the choice to let Kate go. None of them had the desire to track down the werewolf. Not after she had killed her own sister. Addison hadn’t said anything as Dean confessed that maybe they had jumped back into hunting too soon after his return, how he wanted to do the right thing as he felt he only ended up doing the wrong thing. She wanted to hug him, tell him that it would be alright. But she didn’t think there was anything she could say to make him feel better. Not after he said he didn’t want to be friends.
Addison walks out of the bathroom and finds Sam waiting for her. “Hey,” he greets.
“Hey,” Addison softly replies.
Sam shifts. “So, you saved our asses back there.”
“Just a little bit.”
“When did you learn how to—”
“To use my powers,” Addison interrupts. “After I worked with Winston, I paid a visit to Father O’Connor’s grave. And while I was there, I remembered what Cas had told me. That I just needed to focus on the energy inside of me. So, I did some yoga. A little meditating. And things just kinda…clicked into place.”
“Ads, why didn’t you tell me?”
Addison lets out a frustrated breath. “Look, Sam, I don’t want to have this fight—”
“I’m not trying to have a fight, Ads,” Sam quickly tells her.
“Then what is that you want, Sam? We broke up.”
“Ads—”
“Stop. Just stop. Okay. Because we are—” Addison’s cut off when Sam suddenly kisses her.
Dean pulls the nozzle out of the Impala and puts it back on the pump. After replacing the gas cap, he looks around the parking, searching for Sam and Addison. His stomach drops at seeing Sam lean down and kiss Addison. He looks away. He had planned on getting her alone. He wanted to know what had happened between her and Sam; why she would break up with him. He wasn’t going to deny that he would make a move on her.
“Ads, I love you.”
Dean doesn’t see Addison quickly break the kiss. Or that she steps back from Sam, putting some distance between them. He doesn’t see the hurt look on his younger brother’s face or the annoyed look on hers.
“I love you too, Dean.”
Chapter 5: Fan Fiction
Chapter Text
Sam walks out of the motel room to find his older brother working on the Impala. He had woken up to find both Dean and Addison gone. He frowns, not seeing Addison anywhere. “Hey,” Dean greets, shutting the hood on the Impala.
“Hey,” Sam replies. His sling is gone and his arm was fully healed thanks to Addison healing his injury. “How long have you been up? And where’s Ads?”
“Long enough to find us a case,” Dean tells him. “And no idea. She was still asleep when I got up.”
“Long enough to…” Sam shakes his head. “I take it that means you’re feeling back to normal?”
“Yeah, whatever normal is in our world.”
“Good morning!” The boys turn to see Addison walk up with a drink tray and a paper bag. “I got us breakfast.”
Sam smiles and takes the bag from her. “Is this from that cafe in Boston? The one we went to when I spent Christmas break with you?”
Addison smiles. “Uh, yeah. And they still had those really great banana nut muffins.”
Dean clears his throat. He holds out a newspaper to them. “A teacher in an all-girls school went missing in Flint, Michigan. She was heading to her car, disappeared, and nobody’s seen her since,” he tells them.
“Dean, there’s nothing here that even remotely suggests there is a case,” Sam points out.
“There is nothing that even remotely suggests there isn’t a case. Boom!”
“Come on, man.”
“Sam, out there, hunting. It’s the only normal I know,” Dean argues.
Addison shrugs. “Sam, we’ve checked out way less.”
Dean smirks, rearranging the trunk. The trio exchanges a look. Dean tosses a shotgun into the trunk. “We got work to do,” he tells them, then slams the trunk closed.
“Alright, thanks, Officer,” Sam says, then hangs up his phone as the Impala pulls into the all-girls high school parking lot. They had stopped on the way to change into their fed outfits. “Last place Mrs. Chandler was seen by anyone was the high school auditorium. She’s the school’s drama teacher.”
“Theater kids,” Dean complains as they climb out of the Impala. “Ugh.”
“Hey, I was a theater kid,” Sam defends.
“Barely. You were in Our Town. Which rocked. Then you worked on some crappy musical.”
“It was Oklahoma. They cast Hugh Jackman off Oklahoma.”
“You ran tech, Wolverine.”
Sam shifts. “Shut up.”
Addison amusedly smiles. “I think you would’ve been great in Oklahoma.” Sam smiles back and Dean rolls his eyes. The last thing he wanted to see was the two of them making googly eyes at each other.
After meeting the school’s principal, the hunters are led to the auditorium. Addison raises an eyebrow as she looks around. “If you need anything else, let me know,” the principal tells them.
“Great. Thanks, Ms. Salazar,” Sam says.
“Ya idjits!” They turn to see one of the students. She was wearing a trucker hat under a salt and pepper wig. She wore a flannel shirt with a brown vest over it. And a fake beard. “You idjits. You are idjits.”
Addison bites her lip as the boys exchange a confused look. “Hey, assbutt. Hey! Assbutt!” They turn to see another student. This one was wearing a trench coat and a suit. She had a pair of angel wings.
Music starts and they turn their attention to the stage. Addison covers her mouth, trying to keep in her laughter. A student dressed similarly to Dean was standing on the stage and singing. A scene with a student wearing a nightgown in a bedroom plays out in the background. Addison snorts causing the boys to glare at her. They had clearly figured out what was going on. “Cut!” A student wearing the school uniform walks onto the stage.
“What in the holy…” Dean trails off.
“If there is a case…it probably has something to do with all of this,” Sam says.
“You think?”
Addison bursts out laughing. “Best. Fucking. Case. Ever,” she forces out in between laughs. A cardboard Impala is wheeled onto the stage.
Sam shoots her an annoyed look. “Laugh it up, Ads,” Dean snaps. “You’re part of this shit too.”
“I know,” Addison amusedly says. She motions to where a student with red hair and wearing a short black leather jacket is standing. “I think I’m over there.”
Sam clears his throat when he notices two students running up to them. “Hi! Oh my gosh…are you guys from the publisher? I’m Marie, writer slash director,” Marie tells them. She was wearing glasses with a red beret. She motions to the student next to her. “This is Maeve, my stage manager and I was just, uh, dir—”
“Special Agent…Smith. This is…uh, also Special Agent Smith and Special Agent Smith. No relation,” Sam interrupts, holding up his fake badge. He notices the students on the stage pull out fake FBI badges and nudges Dean to put his away. “We’re here to look into the disappearance—”
“There is no singing in Supernatural,” Dean snaps. Addison raises an eyebrow. Sam forces a smile. Neither of them expected Dean to react like that.
“Well, this is Marie’s interpretation,” Maeve begins.
“Ha!” Dean shifts. “Well, I mean, if there was singing, you know…And that’s a big if! If there was singing, it would be classic rock. Not this Andrew Floyd Webber shit—”
“Andrew Lloyd Webber,” Sam whispers.
Dean shoots him a look. “What?”
“Well, you know, we do sing a cover of ‘Carry On Wayward Son’ in the second act,” Marie says.
“Oh,” Dean says.
“Really,” Sam asks.
“It’s a classic,” Dean and Marie say at the same time.
“Look, we’re here to talk about Mrs. Chandler’s disappearance,” Addison says. “Did either of you see her before she vanished?”
“Hmm, yeah,” Marie answers. “She left around, like, what? 9:30?”
“Any idea where she could have been headed?”
“A bar? Or a liquor store? Both?”
“Wow,” Sam replies. “Really?”
“She had a nasty divorce last year. Most of the time, she’s sipping on her, uh, grown-up juice or passed out. Usually in that order.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t blame her,” Dean mutters. “I’m gonna need fifty Jell-O shots and a hose down to get this ick off of me.”
Maeve glares at Dean. Sam forces out a laugh. “Maeve, right,” he asks, stepping in between Dean and the teenager. “You’re the stage manager?”
“And I understudy Jody Mills,” Maeve tells them.
“What,” Dean disbelievingly asks.
“That’s great,” Sam tells her. “That’s great. Jody Mills, that’s great. So, how about you give a us behind-the-scenes tour while your director shows our partner Mrs. Chandler’s office? Deal?” The girls nods. “Great. Give us a moment, please.”
The girls nod and walk away. “I’m gonna throw up,” Dean quietly tells them.
“You had to admit it's cute and a little charming. You can tell that the kids care given all the effort they’ve put into the production value and…” Addison trails off at the glare that Dean sends her. She shifts. “Sam, let’s go check for EMF while Dean goes look for cursed objects or something.”
“Look, I’m not saying Mrs. Chandler is a drunk, but I am saying she carries not one, but two flasks,” Maeve says, leading Sam and Addison into the tech booth. Addison lightly smiles when she notices Sam enthusiastically eyeing the soundboard.
“Now, have you noticed anything strange during the production,” Sam questions. “I mean, any odd noises, or uh—”
“You mean, something like this,” Maeve interrupts. She presses a button a scream erupts from the machine. “Or perhaps this?” She presses a different button and a growl comes out.
“Right. Of course.”
“How about this,” Maeve continues, pushing a third button. This time the sound of a mysterious voice is heard.
“We-we got it,” Sam tells her. “Thanks. You know, back when I did tech in school, we had two CD decks—”
Maeve presses a hand against the headset she was wearing. She nods. “I’m sorry. I have to go sign for a delivery,” she tells them. “Please don’t touch anything.”
Sam waits until Maeve is out of the room. He starts playing with the lights. Addison lightly laughs. “You are being too adorable right now,” she amusedly says, pulling out the EMF meter.
Sam shoots her a smile. He turns back to see the teenagers, dressed as Sam and Dean, staring at the tech booth. He quickly resets the lights. “Sorry,” he says.
“I don’t understand,” Sam says as he walks out of the school with Dean and Addison. They had met up with Dean, who told them everything he had learned during his tour with Marie. Sam shoots Addison an amused look.
“Me neither,” Dean exclaims.
“I mean, shouldn’t it be…Dee-stiel?”
Dean stops and stares at his younger brother. “Really? That’s your issue with this?”
Sam smirks. “No, of course, it’s not my issue. You know…how about Sastiel? Samstiel?” Addison bursts out laughing and leans against Sam. “Or what about Addstiel?”
“Okay, alright. You know what, Saddison? You’re both gonna do that thing, where you just shut the hell up. Forever,” Dean snaps.
Sam snorts. “Saddison?”
“That’s what they call you two.”
Addison snorts. “Saddison? What do they call us?”
Dean rolls his eyes. “I don’t remember. I was too pissed at the whole…” He trails off, waving a hand in the direction of the auditorium.
Sam laughs. He exchanges an amused look with Addison. “Look, man. No EMF. No hex bags. None of the props are even remotely hinky. Other than the Charlie Kaufman of it all, we got nothing. You?”
“In Mrs. Chandler’s office, there’s just a pile of empty bottles and regret. She’s just probably face-down in a bar, somewhere. Or a ditch.” Dean lets out an annoyed breath. “Alright, so what? This-this all…this whole musical thing, everything, it’s…it’s all a coincidence? There is no case?”
“Doesn’t seem like it, Dean,” Addison tells him.
“Okay,” Dean replies, walking around to the driver’s side door.
“CasDean,” Sam amusedly asks.
“Shut your fucking face,” Dean exclaims. Addison laughs. She wraps an arm around her stomach. “Get in the damn car!”
Addison smiles as the detective walks away. A student had gone missing the night before and they had made their way to the school that morning. “So, I checked with the principal,” Dean says, walking up to her and Sam. “There’s nothing on the surveillance tapes. What do the cops think?”
Addison shows Dean her iPhone. On the screen was a crime scene photo. “They only found one clue. This flower. Which was also found near Mrs. Chandler’s cell phone,” she tells him. “Recognize it?”
Dean takes her phone. “No.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Sam agrees.
The trio walks over to where Marie and Maeve are sitting on the edge of the stage. “Let me guess,” Marie says, tightly gripping a cup of coffee. “You guys came here to laugh at me too. Right?”
“Why don’t you tell us what happened to your friend,” Sam asks.
“Maggie quit the show. She was trying to get it shut down, so, we were fighting. Then she-she left and I heard her scream. So, I ran outside to help. And…and I saw a scarecrow. It looked just like the one from our show. But…alive.”
“Then what,” Dean questions.
“It wrapped her in a vine and took her behind the dumpster. And then they were both just…gone. So, I called the cops and a bunch of adults just told me I have an overactive imagination. But it’s all real. Ghosts. Angels. Demon.”
“I wanna believe,” Maeve adds.
“You should believe,” Sam tells them. “You both should. Cause it is all real. And so are we. I’m Sam Winchester. That’s Dean and Addison.”
Marie and Maeve stare at them, then burst out laughing. “Okay,” Marie amusedly says. “Now, look, I’m willing to accept that monsters are real. But those books are works of fiction.”
“And you guys are way too to be Sam or Dean,” Maeve adds. She looks at Addison. “You look around the right age.”
“Oh yeah!”
“More of a Bobby/Rufus combo? Maybe.”
Dean rolls his eyes. He was growing annoyed. “Okay. Alright. Little Miss Sunshine. We are what the books called hunters.”
“FBI hunters?”
“Yeah.”
The two teens exchange a look. “You guys are X-Files.”
“Sure. Yeah, you can say that,” Sam says. “So, this scarecrow from your musical, is it based on the one from the books?”
“No, I changed it,” Marie answers. “I got scared of a local legend when I was a kid. There was this old creepy scarecrow, on an abandoned farm, outside of town. Kids used to say, if it caught you, it would take you away.”
“So, if this scarecrow is based on your version then potentially Maggie and Mrs. Chandler might still be alive,” Addison reasons.
“You think the scarecrow was created by the play,” Maeve questions.
“You think…it’s a tulpa,” Marie excitedly says.
Sam drops a heavy book on the table in front of Marie and Maeve. The trio and the teenagers had made their way to the library. “Tulpas are monsters that are created by an intense, focused energy on an idea or—”
“Or a story,” Marie interjects.
“Great. How do you kill an idea,” Maeve asks her friend.
“Well, in ‘Hell House,’ Sam, Dean, and Addison burnt the house down to take out the one tulpa they hunted.”
Dean nods. “Yeah, yeah. You kill the symbol, you kill the tulpa. It’s actually a pretty good start. So, the scarecrow in your play. Is it a person or a prop?”
“Prop. And it’s terrifying. We keep it in the boiler room.”
“That’s, uh, great. Can you guys read up? Just…give us a sec,” Sam tells them, motioning for Dean and Addison to join him. “Fine, so, this doesn’t add up. Tulpas require a ton of psychic energy to juice up.”
“Yeah,” Dean mutters.
“Well, it’s not like the Supernatural books are tearing up the New York Times best-seller list. And I seriously doubt this play has even sold out.”
“I hope not.”
“But that flower was found at both crime scenes,” Addison argues. “It has to be connected. I have seen this flower somewhere.”
“Alright. You get on that, Ads, I’m gonna take a shot at burning man.” Dean walks back over to Marie and Maeve. “Can you show me to the boiler room,” he asks Marie.
Addison disappears into the library’s stacks and Sam follows her. “What are you thinking,” he softly questions, resting a hand on the small of her back. She pulls out a book and holds it up. He raises an eyebrow. “A muse?”
Dean opens the door to the library and lets Marie enter before he enters. He was excited since burning the scarecrow meant that they could leave. “We came,” he proudly declares. “We saw! We kicked—”
“It’s not a tulpa,” Sam and Addison simultaneously tell him.
Dean stares. “What?”
“It’s not a tulpa,” Sam repeats.
“Say it one more time, but just a little more Arnold, like…it’s not a tulpa,” Dean amusedly says, doing a poor imitation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Addison rolls her eyes. “It’s Calliope.”
“Who?”
“So, Calliope is a Greek muse. She’s like the head muse. At least she was in Hercules. But Calliope is the goddess of epic poetry.” Addison pulls out her iPhone and brings up the crime scene photo. “She’s also associated with the starflower which was left behind each time.”
“Okay, wait. If this is a god thing, then what’s with the scarecrow?”
“Calliope will tune into a story and then manifest creatures from it.”
“Soo…the scarecrow is still alive and we burned my prop for nothing,” Marie asks, looking between Dean and Addison.
“Oh, that thing needed to burn,” Dean tells the teenager.
“The only way to kill the scarecrow is to kill Calliope. See what Calliope does is that she uses the stuff she manifests, like the scarecrow, to inspire and protect the author until the author’s vision has been realized,” Addison continues.
“Then what?”
“She eats the author.”
“Okay, that’s bad,” Marie nervously says. She looks at Dean. “Um, well, you get your wish. Let’s cancel the show.”
“Except Mrs. Chandler and Maggie both tried to do that. And the scarecrow took them. It was protecting you and the show, Marie.”
“Okay, so the scarecrow is the boogeyman. We got to take our show with this, uh…”
“Calliope.”
“Calliope. But she won’t show herself until your vision has been realized.”
“So, what are you saying,” Marie questions.
Addison softly smiles. “In the words of Freddie Mercury: The show must go on.”
Sam grabs Addison’s arm before they head back into the school’s auditorium. They had left Dean with the teenagers while getting the wooden stakes prepared. The hunters had taken a moment to change back into their normal clothes. She smiles up at him. “You are super cute when you talk about Ancient Greek mythology,” Sam tells her. A light blush appears on her face. “And you’re cute when you blush.”
Addison sighs. “We should probably head inside.” She turns and makes her way into the school. Sam stands there for a moment, then follows after her.
They find Dean backstage with the entire cast in costume. “Hey,” Sam says, holding out a stake to Dean. He nods seeing how accurate the costumes were. “Pretty good. Wait a second…where’s Chuck?”
“Oh,” Marie says. “I-I-I love him. I do. But honestly, the whole author introducing himself into the narrative thing…it’s just not my favorite. I kind of hate the meta stories.”
“Me too,” the hunters say.
Dean clears his throat. “Alright, listen up, girls. Now, you’re all here, because you love Supernatural.”
“Actually, I was hoping we’d do Wicked,” the girl dressed as Mary Winchester says.
“Yeah, that’d have been easier. I know I have expressed some differences of opinion, regarding this particular version of Supernatural. But tonight, it is all about Marie’s vision. This is Marie’s Supernatural. So, I want you to get out there and I want you to stand as close as she wants you to and I want you to put as much sub and add text as you possibly can. There is no other road. No other way. No day, but today.” Sam and Addison exchange an amused look. “Now you get out there and you kick it in the ass!”
“Alright,” the Castiel actress excitedly exclaims.
“Bring it in,” Marie says. The teens all put their hands in the middle of a circle.
“Ghooost-facerssss,” the group exclaims.
“That’s weird,” Addison mutters to Sam as they make their way to the side of the stage.
“We should have a movie night,” Sam tells her as Marie steps to the front of the stage.
Addison sighs. “Sam—”
“There’s this new documentary on Machu Picchu that I’ve been wanting to see,” Sam continues, looking around the stage from where they were standing. He shoots Dean a thumbs up, letting him know that everything was good on their side.
Music starts to play. “Maybe,” Addison tells Sam with a smile and he smiles back at her. They start searching the stage for the scarecrow. “Song’s not half bad.” Sam shoots her an amused look. Neither of them notices the scarecrow appear behind them. Addison frowns noticing Dean was motioning at them. “What is he doing?”
“Turn around,” Dean shouts. They’re barely able to hear him over the music.
Addison and Sam turn around. “Oh, fuck,” Addison lets out at seeing the scarecrow standing behind them.
Addison groans as she opens her eyes. She slowly sits up to see Sam was lying next to her. “Agent Smith?” She turns to see Maggie and an older woman, Mrs. Chandler, standing in front of each other. “And Agent Smith?”
“Where are we,” Addison asks, standing up. She holds out a hand to Sam and he grasps it before standing up.
“School’s basement. The scarecrow brought us down here,” Maggie explains.
Sam walks over to the door and tries to open it, but it doesn’t budge. “Yeah, I tried that days ago,” Mrs. Chandler remarks.
“So what? We’re stuck in here,” Sam asks.
“That’s right.” They turn to see a woman with flowers in her hair and wearing a long flowing lavender-colored dress. “You’re gonna miss the big show.” Sam starts towards the muse but Calliope holds out a hand and an invisible force pins him against the door. “I’ve consumed many authors. Many stories. But tonight, as soon as the curtain opened, I knew something special was brewing with this one. Maybe it’s because the story’s actual inspiration is here. I don’t know. I guess I have to kill you two and your brother to find out.”
“You know, I read that you have to wait until the author’s vision has been realized before you can kill us,” Addison questions, walking around the basement.
Calliope smirks as she looks at Addison. “Oh, gods! If I have to sit through that second act one more time…there’s robots and tentacles and space. I can’t even.”
“So, why this story, huh,” Sam asks. “Why, uh, Supernatural?”
“Supernatural has everything. Life. Death. Resurrection. Redemption. Love. Heartbreak. But above all, family. All set to music you can really tap your toe to. It isn’t some meandering piece of genre dreck. It’s…epic! And that…well! That is my bag of tea.”
“Bag this,” Maggie exclaims, hitting Calliope on the back of the head with a heavy book. Addison scoops up the stake that had been dropped and stabs Calliope in the chest. Sam’s released from the door as Calliope explodes into purple flowers.
Dean shifts as the Impala speeds down the dark highway. The prop Marie had given him was hanging off the rearview mirror. Things between the three of them were good; they felt like they were back to normal. But he knew there was something he needed to fix. Something that he knew he couldn’t live without.
“Saddison,” Dean disbelievingly repeats as he stares at Marie. He never thought he would be learning about fandom of the Supernatural books. Through learning some of it was very much against his will. Especially the fans that wanted him and Castiel to be a couple.
“Sam and Addison,” Marie clarifies. “Some fans think of them as OTP. One true pair.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “And you’re one of those.”
“Oh, no. No. I think Addison would be better off by herself. Being a kick-ass hunter on her own. But if she has to be with one of the brothers, I would put her with Dean. I guess it kind of makes me a Deaddison girl. She seems happier with Dean than with Sam. And Dean is certainly way happier with Addison. They just work together better than Sam and Addison.”
Dean walks up to where Addison is sitting at the bar, alone. He had seen Sam disappear into the bathroom. He drapes his arm over her shoulders. He presses close to her. His lips brush over her ear. She shoots him a confused look, wondering how much he had to drink. “Ads, you’re my best friend,” he whispers. “And I miss my best friend.”
Addison leans back and stares at him. Then she leans into him. She rests her head on his shoulder. “I missed you too,” she replies. The bartender sets a couple of plates down in front of Addison. One was a burger and fries while the other was a salad. She picks up a fry and Dean quickly leans in to take a bite. “Dean!” Dean takes another fry from her plate and shoots her a grin. “Seriously!”
Neither of them is aware of Sam standing at the end of the bar, watching their interaction.
Chapter 6: Ask Jeeves
Chapter Text
Sam and Addison walk up to where Dean was changing the light bulb for one of the Impala’s headlights. She takes a sip of her espresso. Sam was carrying his cup and a cup for Dean. “Hey, yo,” he greets, holding out a cup of espresso to Dean. “Individually brewed. Technology, man.”
“Real mean don’t drink out of cups this small,” Dean replies. He sniffs the coffee. “What is that cinnamon roll?”
“Glazed donut,” Addison amusedly tells him. She reaches for the cup. “I mean, if you don’t want it…”
“Nah, it’s…got it,” Dean mutters, then takes a sip of espresso. “So, any leads on the scanner or the interweb?”
“Nothing,” Sam answers. “Not even a cat up a tree.”
“So, right when we’re ready to jump back into it, it goes uh…radio silence.”
“Murphy’s law.”
“Well, Murphy’s a douche. Like Winston.”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Dude, let it go.”
“Nope. Hey, you two feel like taking a detour to Connecticut?”
Sam frowns. “What?”
Dean pulls out an old cell phone. “Found it while I was dustbusting.”
Sam takes it. “One of ours?”
“It’s one of Bobby’s. And, in total, twenty-seven messages. The only one that counts is from two days ago. Apparently Bobby’s been named a beneficiary in Bunny LaCroix’s will.”
“Bunny who,” Addison asks.
“Attorney said she’s an heiress and Bobby’s presence or next of kin is being requested in New Canaan. I figured we qualify.”
Sam frowns. “How did Bobby know an heiress?”
“Bobby had secrets, man. Like loving on Tori Spelling. If he only knew Dean cheated on her. Anyway, road trip? Who knows? Maybe Bobby earned us some beer money.”
Addison shrugs. She sees the disbelieving look on Sam’s face. “We don’t have anything else going on,” she tells him.
Sam sighs. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Wow,” Sam says, climbing out of the Impala. He and Addison take in the large house with multiple expensive cars parked out front. “Think we’re a little underdressed? I mean the Fed threads are in the trunk.”
“You kidding me,” Dean replies. “For once we don’t have to wear suits. You’re both lucky my waist band’s not elastic.”
Addison shakes her head in disbelief as they reach the front door. Dean presses the doorbell and music plays. The door opens to reveal a petite blonde woman wearing a maid’s outfit. “May I help you,” she softly asks, looking the trio over.
“I’m Sam Winchester. This is Dean Winchester and Addison Sloan. We’re here on behalf of Bobby Singer,” Sam explains.
“Mr. Singer won’t be coming,” she asks.
“No, he passed away,” Dean replies.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Condolences for your loss,” Addison says with a soft smile.
“Thank you. Well, you just missed the funeral, but the family’s relaxing inside if you’d like to join,” she tells them, then leads the trio through the house to a large room with a pool table. A group of people are lounging around the room. The man clears her throat. “Allow me to introduce Sam and Dean Winchester and Addison.”
A middle aged woman with short blonde hair walks up to them. “Sam and Dean Winchester of the Westchester Winchesters,” she asks, looking the brothers over. Addison bites her lips in amusement. The woman was clearly interested in the brothers.
“Uh no. I don’t think there’s any relation,” Sam replies. “Sorry.”
“No matter. You two are adorable.” Dean raises an eyebrow. “I’m Heddy, Bunny’s cousin and this is my sister, Beverly.”
Heddy motions to another middle aged blonde woman, who was sitting on a couch. “Charmed I’m sure,” Beverly says, looking the brothers over.
Heddy motions to a middle aged man playing pool. A woman closer in age to Sam was standing next to the pool table. “And that’s Bunny youngest brother Stanton. Stan for short.”
“Come on in fellas, join the mourning,” Stanton humorlessly says.
“And his child bride…Amber.”
“Go Stan,” Amber enthusiastically says, clapping her hands.
Staton misses his shot. He shoots Amber an annoyed look. “Babe, don’t. You’re breaking my concentration.”
Heddy then motions to a young man. “And then there’s Dash. That’s the baby of the family. He’s Bunny’s great nephew. Harvard business.”
“How did you three know Aunt Bunny,” Dash questions, walking over to them.
The trio exchanges a look. “We-we-we didn’t personally know her,” Sam explains. “Our-our surrogate dad, Bobby Singer did.”
“Bobby,” Beverly questions. “Never heard of him. But you can fill us in over the weekend, huh.”
Addison raises an eyebrow. “Weekend?”
“Didn’t the attorney tell you? Service was today and the reading of the will tomorrow,” Heddy tells them.
“Oh but you’re welcome to spend the night,” Beverly adds, smiling at the boys. “All the rooms sleep two.”
Heddy slaps Dean’s butt. “Or three.”
Dean forces a smile. “Okay.”
“Where’s Colette,” Amber questions, looking around the room.
“She quit,” an old man wearing a tux says. “Poor dear was so distraught over Mrs. LaCroix’s passing. Went off to find herself.”
“Ashram in India,” Heddy questions.
“Uh, clown college in Sarasota,” he explains.
“Good choice.”
The man walks over to the trio. “May I have a word with you in the hall in five minutes,” he asks.
“Sure,” Sam replies.
Beverly places a hand on Sam’s arm and Addison snorts at the uncomfortable look on Sam’s face. “So, Sam, tell me…do you work out?”
Addison clears her throat. “Where’s the bathroom,” she asks.
“Down the hallway,” Heddy answers, not taking her gaze off of Dean.
Addison amusedly smiles. “Thanks.” She quickly makes her way out of the room. The boys quickly follow her.
“Charmed I’m sure,” Dean mocks. “What are these people?”
“They’re WASPs,” Addison answers, brushing invisible lent off of her shoulder.
Dean frowns. “What?”
Sam notices the butler walking towards them. They stop and force a smile. “My apologies for being so oblique back there,” the butler tells them. He had an envelope in his hands. “But I’m doing you three a favor.”
Sam frowns. “Okay.”
“As you know, Mrs. LaCroix bequeathed something to your Mister Singer. But the reading of the will isn’t until tomorrow and I would hate for you to have to stick around and be force to…well mingle with the family.”
“Don’t worry, Alfred, we know which one the shrimp fork is,” Dean comments. He shrugs. “Kind of.”
“Oh, Mr. Winchester, if you’re implying that I don’t think you’re good enough, it’s quite the contrary. You’re far too good. The LaCroix family is…how shall I say this politely?…Money grubbing leaches.”
“What are you talking about? I thought they were all loaded.”
“Loaded. Yes. Rich. No. The recession hit every one of them and I’m afraid it they knew what Bunny left you, those vultures would try to stake claim. And since the attorney kindly agreed to a hand off, you don’t have to be subjected to their scrutiny.”
The butler hands the envelope to Dean. “Do you know how Bunny and Bobby knew each other,” Addison asks.
“No in the slightest. Um, now if there’s nothing else, shall I have Olivia show you out?”
“No, no. That’s uh…we got it. Thanks,” Dean tells him and the butler walks away with Olivia, the maid. Dean opens the envelope and pulls out a large jeweled cross on a chain. “Huh. Kind of fancy to leave a guy like Bobby.”
“You thinking what I’m thinking,” Sam replies, looking at the cross.
“If Bunny was banging Bobby, then maybe these rocks are real,” Dean says.
Addison takes the cross. She looks at it for a moment, then hands it back to Dean. “It’s fake,” she announces.
“I think we’ll get a second opinion,” Dean says, then walks out of the house. Addison rolls her eyes and follows him out of the house with Sam.
“What do you mean it’s not real,” Dean exclaims. His idea of a second opinion was to pay a visit to a local pawn shop. Addison crosses her arms over her chest and smirks at Dean. “The old bag was rolling in it.”
“Well, looks like the old bag’s got a soft spot for fake rubies and cubic zirconium. This is interesting though,” the pawn shop employee tells them. He pulls out the top of the cross to reveal a key. “It’s a key.”
Sam stares. “A key to what?”
“There’s one way to find out. Ask Jeeves,” Dean replies, taking the cross back from the pawn shop employee.
Addison smirks as they walk out of the pawn shop. “Next time I say the jewelry is fake, how about you listen to me,” she says.
“You don’t know shit about jewelry, Ads,” Dean argues.
“You know what, Dean, just for that, I’m not healing you,” Addison tells him. “Ever.”
Dean rolls his eyes as they climb into the Impala. “I think I’ll live, Ads.”
Addison nor the boys miss the police car sitting outside of the LaCroix estate. Sam rings the door bell and they wait a few minutes before the door finally opens. The butler stares at them, waiting. “Everything okay,” Dean questions.
“Not really,” the butler replies, opening the door wider to allow them to enter. “I presume you three left something behind. I’ll check the front closet for burlap.”
“I got news for you, Mr. Belvedere, the jacket’s canvas,” Dean replies.
“You three were here earlier,” a man asks, walking into the entrance room.
“Yeah, who wants to know?”
A badge is flashed at the trio. “Detective Howard. New Canaan P.D.,” the detective tells them. “Congratulations, you three, you’re now officially murder suspects.”
Dean frowns. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, Bunny LaCroix’s brother Stanford was killed this evening. His body’s just gone to the morgue.”
Addison raises an eyebrow. “You think that—”
“I don’t know what to think,” Detective Howard interrupts. “And that’s why you three and anyone else who stepped foot in this house today is being detained for questioning.”
The butler leads the trio into the lounge where the rest of the LaCroix family is waiting. “Beverly let go of me. It’s so obvious she’s guilty,” Heddy argues, trying to pull out of Beverly’s grip.
“You’re off your rocker, old lady,” Dash tells her.
“Old lady? I…” Heddy pauses noticing the boys. “I’m thirty-nine.”
“And you have been since ’03.”
“How-how dare you.”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but…but who’s guilty,” Sam questions.
“The town slut. Amber. She killed Stan.”
“And what’s her motive, Murder She Wrote,” Dean asks.
“Oh, everyone knows that Amber was sleeping around,” Heddy tells them. “She wanted to leave Stan but her prenup was ironclad. So she killed him.”
“Sounds logical.”
“Well, unless you believe that ridiculous story that she’s been peddling. A ghost killed Stanton. Honestly.”
“A ghost,” Addison repeats.
“She’s claiming that Bunny’s late husband, Lance did it. Have you ever heard such a thing? What a panic! So stupid.”
“You’re nutty as a squirrel on those synthetic hormones,” Dash mutters.
“Nutty? How appalling of you. Don’t they teach you manners in Harvard,” Heddy argues.
Sam grabs Addison’s arm and tugs her towards a corner with Dean. “So, uh,” Dean quietly asks, looking between the two of them.
“Looks like we might have a case here,” Sam replies. “Vengeful spirit?”
“Yeah. Think we can get to the car, get the EMF?”
“Not with, uh, Detective Friendly. Not a chance. Guess we’re gonna have to go old school.”
“All right, cold spots it is. You stay here. Keep an eye on Mrs. Peacock and Colonel Mustard. Ads and I’ll sniff around.”
Addison smirks. She lightly pats Sam’s arm. “Have fun with the cougars.” Sam shoots her an annoyed look as she quickly walks away with Dean.
“Can’t believe you would just throw Sam to the cougars like that,” Dean teases as they walk up the stairs.
“Please, you would’ve done the same thing,” Addison counters, then walks down a different hallway.
“Yeah. I would’ve,” Dean replies, looking into a suit of armor. He turns and finds Addison gone. He rolls his eyes.
“Hey,” Addison softly calls, poking her head out of a bedroom. He walks past a bedroom and notices the tape outline on the floor. He walks into the bedroom Addison was in and finds her standing in front of a bookcase. “Check this out.” She pulls a book out and the bookshelf moves to reveal a hidden door. “Got the key?”
Dean pulls out the cross and takes out the key. After unlocking the door, Dean grabs a pipe off a nightstand and they make their way up the stairs. Addison pulls out her small flashlight and shines it around the staircase. They reach the attic and stop at seeing a pair of feet sticking out from a rolled up rug.
“Dean? Addison?”
They turn to see Olivia standing behind them. “Olivia,” Addison questions, exchanging a look with Dean.
“Thank God,” Olivia breathes. “I thought you were him.”
“Him who,” Dean replies.
“Philip, the butler,” Olivia tells them. “He locked me in here because I wouldn’t lie to the detective about what I saw.”
“What did you see,” Addison asks.
“I saw him roll Colette’s body in a rug.”
“Clown college Colette,” Dean asks. “The butler killed her?”
“No, no. He just…he just hid her.”
“Then who killed her?”
“I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Let me guess. Lance’s ghost.”
“No. Bunny’s.”
Addison and Dean head back downstairs with Olivia in tow. They walk into the lounge to find Sam playing cards with Beverly and Heddy. He sets his cards down. “You know what, uh, excuse me,” Sam tells the women before making his way to Dean and Addison. “Hey. So?”
“You seen the butler,” Dean questions.
“No. Why?”
“Cause if anybody has answers it’s him. We’re ealing with two vengeful spirits. Apparently Aunt Bunny had a bee in her bonnet as well.”
“Uh, husband and wife tag-team killer ghosts?”
“It’s a good way to keep a marriage alive,” Addison amusedly says. “Anyway, the key opened a door to a hidden attic.”
Sam frowns. “Why would Bunny want Bobby to have a key to her attic?”
“No idea. We found Olivia and Colette locked inside.”
“Clown college Colette?”
“Yeah, but she ain’t studying ballon animals,” Dean tells him. “She’s dead.”
“Now what does the butler have to do with all this?”
“He’s the one who locked them in there. Now we don’t know why, but he’s covering for the spooks. He’s acting like their Renfield.”
“Alright, we’ve got to find him. I’ll take upstairs. You guys take down here.”
“Alright,” Dean replies and walks off with Addison. They find a door and Dean opens it as Addison picks up a wrench.
Philip the butler was standing there. “Uh, leaky faucet’s down the hall.”
“Cut the crap, Wadsworth. What are you doing hiding dead maids in secret rooms,” Dean demands.
“I know it all looks rather peculiar, but I can explain,” Philip tells them before launching into an explantation that both Dean and Addison have trouble believing.
“So, you hid Colette’s body in the attic,” Addison asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because you didn’t want her death to steal Bunny’s thunder?”
“I couldn’t stand the thought of overshadowing Mrs. LaCroix’s funeral with another death. She deserved a proper farewell. I owed it to her.”
“That’s fucking insane,” Addison mutters as Dean yanks her back towards him. She shoots him a confused look but sees the hard look on his face.
“No, Ms Sloan, that’s loyalty,” Philip says before tossing the hunters into different corners of the room.
Dean lets out a groan as he stands up. He frowns seeing the pile of clothes and skin by the door. He pulls out his phone and dials Sam. “Dean,” Sam greets.
“Sam,” Dean replies, turning to where Addison was slowly standing up.
“Yeah?”
“It’s not ghost,” Dean tells him.
“What?”
“It’s a shapeshifter.”
“So the shifter’s getting its jollies by impersonating dead people,” Sam asks as the trio stands just outside of the kitchen. Philip the butler’s body was lying on the floor with a knife sticking out of his back.
“Yeah. First Bunny, then Lance, now Philip,” Dean says. “Guess we can rule out ‘the butler did it.’”
“And the creep just shed so now it could be anybody. Even one of you two.”
“Or you. We need to find some silver.”
“That shouldn’t be hard to do in a house like this,” Addison says as they walk back into the kitchen as Olivia enters.
“Oh my god,” Olivia exclaims at seeing Philip’s body on the floor.
“He was like that when we found him,” Addison quickly says.
“Who did this?”
“We don’t know yet, okay,” Sam reassures. “Now, listen. Calm down. I know you think he was working with ghosts but there’s something way worse going on here.”
“Worse than…what is going on?”
“If you want to help, then help,” Dean tells the maid. “Can you do that?”
Olivia looks between the trio. “What…what do you need?”
“Silverware,” Dean answers.
Olivia walks over to a cabinet and pulls down a case filled with silverware. She opens it. “Why do you need the silverware?”
“For protection,” Sam replies, picking up a butter knife.
“Butter knives?”
“Trust us. There’s a method to our madness,” Dean tells the young maid.
“Can you, uh, hold this,” Sam asks, holding out a butter knife to Olivia. She takes it. Sam picks up a couple more butter knifes and holds them out to Dean and Addison. “Dean. Ads.” They each take one. Sam grabs one more knife. “All right. Let’s do this.”
Addison walks with Dean into the empty lounge. They had spilt off from Sam to talk to the other members of the LaCroix family. They turn to walk out of the room but stop at hearing a noise. Addison walks over to a closet door and opens the door to find Amber and Dash making out. Addison rolls her eyes. “Seriously?”
“We can explain,” Amber quickly says.
“Let me guess,” Dean amusedly says. “You two got bored last Christmas.”
“New Canaan clambake, actually,” Dash corrects. “We were in line at the buffet, they ran out of steamers. One thing led to another, and, well…”
“But we didn’t kill Stanton,” Amber tells them.
“We may be guilty of cheating but not murder.”
Dean reaches into his pocket and pulls out a couple of silver knives. He holds them out. “Touch these.”
Dash frowns. “What? Why?”
“Do it or I tell everyone about your little clambake,” Addison coldly says.
Reluctantly, Dash and Amber touch the silver knives. Nothing happens. “Did we pass,” Amber asks.
“Yep. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with us. Cone on you two,” Dean replies and they lead the Dash and Amber back to the lounge where they find Sam sitting in between Beverly and Heddy on the couch. Beverly was running her fingers through Sam’s hair while Heddy was examining his fingers.
Dean smirks. “Should we come back when you’re done?”
“Oh, he-he-he’s calling to me so…” Sam tells them, extracting himself from them.
“And it’s going to hell, right here, right now,” Dean says as Amber and Dash walk into the room. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“You smell like Chanel number 5 and regret,” Addison amusedly says to Sam.
Sam snorts. “Gray Gardens cleared.”
“Okay, well, so are Dash and Amber,” Dean replies. “They’re a thing, by the way.”
Sam looks between Dean and Addison. “We caught them making out,” Addison tells him.
“Yeah, W.A.S.P.s.”
“Well, so that’s everyone. Except for—” Sam’s cut off when there’s a sudden scream throughout the house. They run down the hallway and find Olivia. She points to a bathroom and the trio walks into find the detective they had met earlier with his head in the toilet.
“Well, we got a floater,” Dean says. Addison lightly smacks his arm.
“Great,” Sam mutters as everyone joins them.
“Yeah, he’s a goner.”
“Drowned in a toilet,” Heddy comments. “How filthy.”
“What kind of monster would do such a thing,” Beverly says. The sisters turn to Olivia.
“Don’t look at me. I was just trying to pee,” Olivia replies.
“Okay, hold on,” Dean says. “Before we start pointing fingers—”
“Amber has motive,” Heddy quickly says. “She killed the detective because she knew that it was just a matter of time before he figure out she killed Stan.”
“Bravo Rizzoli,” Dash snarks. “You solved the case. Want to weigh in too, Isles?”
“I didn’t kill Stanton or the detective. And I have proof,” Amber defends.
Sam starts to step forward, hands up. “Okay, guys—”
“My alibi is in this room,” Amber continues.
“This is gonna be good,” Addison mutters.
“Amber couldn’t have killed the detective cause she was with me. We’re in love,” Dash declares.
“We’re sleeping together,” Amber corrects.
“I knew it,” Beverly exclaims.
“Well then you have motive too,” Heddy argues. “You offed Stan because you were diddling his wife.”
“Oh. The old lady doth protest too much. You’re only pointing the finger to distract from your own guilt. And you probably got Baby Jane to help,” Dash counters.
“Well, I never! I’m leaving.”
Beverly turns to walk out of the room, but Dean blocks her. “All right, hang on,” Dean tells them. “First of all, who talks like that? Second of all, no one’s leaving, okay?”
“Ohh, get your hands off me, young man,” Beverly says, grabbing Dean.
Dean grabs her and pushes her away. “Okay, see, I don’t trust anyone. And leaving just makes you look guilty.”
Beverly grins. “Ohhh.”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Look, Dean’s right, okay. Besides, we have four dead bodies now.”
“Four dead bodies,” Amber asks, looking between the trio.
“Yes. You can add Philip and Colette to the list,” Dean confirms.
“Clown college Colette,” Heddy asks. “But I thought she—”
“She’s dead! Alright, she’s dead.”
“And we can’t help you unless you stop arguing with one another. You need to trust us,” Sam tells them.
“Trust you? Uh, we don’t even know you,” Dash argues. “Look, Buddy, I’m trying to be objective here, but we’ve had countless family functions before and even through we wanted to kill one another, we never did.”
“Dash is right. Our get togethers never end in murder,” Heddy says. “The only thing different this time around is you.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean says. “First of all, whoa. Whatever you’re suggesting—”
Dash quickly grabs the gun from the dead detective and aims it at the trio. “You three! Let’s go. Don’t even think about it. I…Hunt pheasant.” Dash walks the trio out of the room with the gun aimed at them. He guides them down the hallway to a room. He opens a door and waves them in. “Sit tight until the cops get here.”
“You don’t want to do this,” Dean tells him. “We are your best shot at making it out of here alive.”
“We’re not the bad guys, Dash,” Sam adds.
“I beg to differ. You’re wearing flannel,” Dash says, then closes the door. The hear a distinct sound of a key locking the door.
“Hey,” Dean snaps, trying to open the door.
Addison and Sam start looking through the desk drawers, searching for keys. Sam holds up a pair of keys. “Hey. Keys,” he says.
“No, it’s locked from the outside.”
“Are you kidding me? Fuck.”
Dean shoves the butter knife and attempts to open the door. He pulls it out and finds the knife bent. “Made in Taiwan. Fucking stainless steel.”
“So that’s why no one sizzled? They’re not even real silver?”
“First cubic zirconium and now this. No wonder the rich stay rich. How we gonna kill this thing?”
“You know, we got silver bullets in the trunk.”
“Yeah, assuming we ever make it out of here.”
“Uh, guys,” Addison says, watching Olivia pick up the gun off. She had been watching the security cameras, searching for any sign of the shapeshifter.
“We got played by the maid,” Dean says. He throws himself against the door, hoping that it would break.
Addison starts looking around the room. She opens a cabinet and smiles. “Gun safe.”
“Try these,” Dean says, tossing the keys to her. Addison manages to find the key and opens the safe. Sam reaches over her shoulder and grabs a gun. Dean moves away from the door as Sam shoots open the door. Sam runs out of the room leaving Dean and Addison to follow after him. “Ads, find Sam. I’m going to grab silver bullets.”
Addison nods and runs into the lounge where the family was waiting. “Where’s Sam,” she demands, looking between the LaCroix family members. She shakes her head and runs out of the room. She heads towards the kitchen as Dean meets up with her. They walk into the kitchen to find Olivia aiming a gun at Sam. Dean shoots her and the shapeshifter falls to the ground, dead. Dean continues to shoot Olivia’s body.
Addison walks up to the table with three beer bottles in hand. She hadn’t said anything during the conversation Sam had tried to have with Dean in the Impala after they had left the LaCroix house. She was worried about him, worried how he had gone over board with killing the shapeshifter. “Where’s Sam,” she asks, sitting down at the table.
“Bathroom,” Dean replies. “You know, he’s got that tiny bladder.”
Addison lightly smiles. “True. He asks for more pee breaks than I do.”
Dean takes a swig of his beer. “Hey, I got a question for you. So, you got more control of your abilities or whatever, right?”
“Yeah?”
“Then why didn’t you just pop out and grab some silver bullets or a knife? Would’ve made things way easier.”
Addison laughs. “Uh, because I forgot.”
Dean snorts. “You forgot? That sounds like bullshit.”
“Yeah, I know. But, uh, I don’t like to use my powers.”
“Still sounds like bullshit, Ads.”
Chapter 7: Girls, Girls, Girls
Chapter Text
“What about this? Um, cattle deaths a few towns over? A demon possibility or something,” Sam says as the trio sits in a restaurant. Addison sat beside him, finishing her salad and playing Candy Crush on her iPhone. Dean was sitting across from him, eating fries and glued to his phone.
“No, it says right there. It’s probably cause of the drought,” Dean replies.
Sam sighs and puts down the paper. “So, what are we doing here?”
Dean points at Sam’s plate. “Uh, reason’s right on your plate. Lizardo’s porterhouse — U.S.D.A. prime.” Dean’s phone beeps. “It’s the only place between Connecticut and the bunker you can get a decent steak for under ten bucks.” His phone beeps once more.
Sam glances at Addison and finds her engrossed in the game. “Dude, you are blowing up. Who is that?”
“Ah, it’s just, uh, you know, these alert thingies.”
“For what?”
“You know, monster…stuff.” Sam nods, then quickly grabs Dean’s phone. “Hey, hey. No. Give it back.”
Sam holds Dean’s phone against his chest. “What? Why?”
“Because privacy…and stuff.”
Sam looks at Dean’s phone. “Oh, privacy…” He trails off seeing the profile of Dean on the screen.
Addison leans on Sam’s shoulder and snorts at seeing Dean’s screen. “Dude, you’re on a dating app?”
Dean shifts. “Yeah, and you know what? Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Sam chuckles. “Nice screen name, Dean…Impala67.”
Dean rolls his eyes and reaches for his phone. “All right, give it back. Come on.”
“Shaylene, huh?” Sam scrolls through the phone. “Dean, there are like a million messages here.”
“Yeah, uh, check out her pic.”
Sam taps on Shaylene’s profile and a picture of a beautiful dark-haired woman appears. “Uh, okay. Wow. Okay. Um, okay. She’s hot. But…”
“But what?”
“But she seems, um…kind of…available. Like too available. ‘Oh, baby, whatever you want. I’m burning up just thinking about you.’”
Dean smirks. “They get raunchier.”
“Yeah. Yeah. We — we see that. It’s like a, uh, like a Penthouse letter.”
“Yeah.” Dean frowns. “Is that bad?”
“No, it’s not bad, Dean. It’s too good to be true.”
“I’m sorry, is it — is it so hard to believe that an attractive, red-blooded, American female could be interested in someone like me?”
“You realize there’s no guarantee ‘Shaylene’ is even Shaylene. I mean, for all you know, it could be some Canadian trucker na—named Bruce.”
Sam stares in disbelief at the woman standing a few feet behind his older brother. Dean looks over his shoulder and smiles at Shaylene. He turns back to Sam with a smirk. “That look like a Bruce to you?”
“We — we detoured eight hours so you could get laid,” Sam asks as Dean stands up.
“Yeah. Yeah, Oh, and you know what? Lunch is on me,” Dean tells them, putting some money on the table. He smirks. “And, uh, don’t wait up.”
Sam watches as Dean and Shaylene walk out of the restaurant. He turns to Addison. “Five bucks says Shaylene is a hooker,” Addison says, shooting him a smile.
Sam chuckles. “What do you want to do tonight?”
Addison smiles. “I don’t know. But I’m sure we can figure something out.”
Sam walks out of the bathroom to find Addison sitting on her bed, painting her toes. She had stripped off her buttoned-up shirt leaving her in jeans and a polka spaghetti strap tank top. Her hair was in a messy bun. The gold Celtic cross she always wore sat at the top of her breasts and he could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “These people are stupid,” she says as he sits down at the foot of her bed. A true crime show was playing. “It’s so fucking obvious that the husband did it.”
“Did Dean have something to do with you breaking up with me,” Sam questions, turning to face her.
Addison sighs. “Sam—”
“I deserve a reason, Addison. You don’t want to be together, then fine. But I deserve a reason.”
Addison puts the lid on the nail polish and tightly closes it. “Why do you need a reason?”
“Because you broke up with me out of nowhere, Ads. Then you left for two months. And you walk back into the Bunker, acting like nothing happened. I heard what Dean said in the hallway. When he was a demon. How you found him and fucked him.”
“You know, I’ve been wondering if I should tell Sam about how you found me last month. And how I fucked you. How I spent the entire night fucking you. How you chose to come with me.”
Addison’s silent. She’s not sure what to say. “I broke up with you because of Dean,” she softly confirms. “Because I’m in love with him.” A tear slips down her cheek and she wipes it away. “Sam, I’m so sorry. I-I never meant to hurt you.”
Sam looks away. Then something clicks and he turns back to her. “When I was closing the gates of Hell, you kissed me and said that you love me.”
“Sam, I do love you.”
“Except you’re not in love with me,” Sam finishes.
“Yeah,” Addison breathes. She wipes away the tear that had forced its way out. She wasn’t sure what to say now.
The ringing of a phone cuts through the room and Sam lets out a relieved breath. He grabs his phone off the nightstand and finds Dean’s name on the screen. “Hey, Dean,” Sam greets, running a hand over his face and standing up. He was happy that for once Dean had poor timing. “No, we-we were just watching a true crime show.” Sam frowns as he realizes what Dean is saying. “You found a case while on your date?”
“Of course he did,” Addison mutters.
“Okay. Just-just give us a few minutes and we’ll come meet you,” Sam tells his older brother before hanging up.
“Sam,” Addison begins, standing up.
Sam shakes his head. “Don’t bother, Addison,” he tells her then walks into the bathroom.
Addison shakes her head in disbelief as she and Sam stand in the motel room Dean had gotten for his date. However, she still couldn’t believe that a Crossroads demon was forcing women into prostitution in order to gain souls. A door opens and she looks up at Sam. “How we doing,” a man asks. “Everybody ready for a good time? Okay. John Hancock right here. Then we can get this party started.” Sam walks out of the room with Addison. He had an angel blade while she held her lavender blade. The demon looks at them. “Winchesters.”
Addison points at the ceiling and the demon looks up to see a devil’s trap they had painted on the ceiling. “She told us everything,” Dean coldly says.
“Abduction, forced prostitution,” Sam begins. “It’s pretty gnarly, even for a demon.”
The demon shrugs. “She’s got her version, I’ve got mine.”
“Liar,” Shaylene snaps.
“Let me guess. She came to you begging for you to pimp her out,” Dean replies.
“Yeah, 'cause that Harvard degree was working out so well for her,” the demon counters.
“How many girls are there, hmm? How big is this?”
“Just me and Shay.”
“He’s lying,” Shaylene tells them. “There’s a brothel. I heard him on the phone. They told me what you are. A demon from Hell.”
“Beats trash from the street,” the demon argues. “Face it, Missy, without me, you would’ve been dead of drugs or worse in a year. Frankly, this little ho should be thanking me.”
Shaylene jumps up from where she was sitting on the bed and grabs the angel blade that Dean was holding. She stabs the demon in the chest before any of them can react. “Whoa,” Dean lets out as the demon flashes orange before falling to the ground dead. He looks at Sam and Addison. “Okay. Well, that just happened.”
Addison steps forward. She gently grabs the angel blade out of Shaylene’s hand. “Okay. So, I’m all for you killing the dick that forced you to be a sex worker, but, um, he was our best shot at finding the brothel. Unless you happen to know where it is.”
“No, but, um…” Shaylene walks over to the dead demon and rifles through his pocket before pulling out a business card. She hands it to Dean. “I saw him give these out at the bars.”
Addison raises an eyebrow as they walk into the bar. A body was on the ground, presumed dead, while another body was lying in a puddle of black goo. “Can’t believe somebody got to kill this Raul too before we could,” Dean says, looking around the bar. “Check I.D.s.”
“All right,” Sam replies, kneeling next to the bodies. Addison walks over to the bar and takes a seat while Dean moves behind the bar. He grabs a bottle of bourbon and pours a couple of drinks for himself and Addison. “Uh, Dean, Ads, from the look and…smell of it, pure demon. I think this is Raul.”
“Did he puke himself to death,” Addison asks, taking a swig of her bourbon.
“Yeah, literally.”
“Okay, so…something went down here,” Dean reasons. “There was a standoff. One demon smokes out and Raul…what can even kill a demon like this?”
“Apparently…” Sam grabs the hex bag out of Raul’s hand. “A witch.”
Addison slides her glass over to Dean. “I think I need a triple.”
“Me too,” Dean mutters, pouring more bourbon into her glass. He slides the glass back over to her before turning his own.
Addison picks up the glass. “Slainte.” Dean clinks his glass against hers before they each take a swig of whiskey.
“Here we go,” Sam says. Addison leans forward on the front seat of the Impala. The trio had decided to hit the road, looking for a lead. “Um, so it looks like in the eighteenth century, there were accounts of demons killed by witchcraft. Apparently, they were vanquished by a spell called defigere et depurgare which is Latin for ‘to bind and purge.’”
“Was that the same spell that took out Raul,” Addison asks.
“Sounds like it. But from what I can tell, that spell hasn’t been used in over three hundred years. And it was only ever know by one person, the witch who created it.”
“Who was…”
“Rowena.”
Addison looks around the busy street as she slowly sips her coffee. Dean had gone to check out the hotel where a waiter had been murdered the day before. Sam was on his phone with a small notebook in front of him. “No, that is strange. All right, I hear you. Thank you,” he says and hangs up as Dean reaches them.
“Hey,” Dean greets. “So, it looks like our witch was here with two new friends.”
“Raul’s girls,” Addison asks and he nods. “What does she want with a couple of hookers?”
“I don’t know. What’d you get from the hunter network?”
“This guy, Darrell, has been working a case. A series of grisly hotel murders one at the Kensington, another at the Waldorf in Cleveland,” Sam tells them. “Bodies stabbed, impaled on the ceiling.”
“Sounds a little more homicidal maniac than witchy.”
“That’s what Darrell thought too, until the autopsy came back. Actual cause of death—”
“Boiled brains,” Addison interrupts.
“Yeah, same as our waiter.”
“This witch must be loaded. I mean, the Kensington, the Waldorf, this restaurant. They’re all pretty expensive.”
Sam nods. He stands up. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
“Where we going,” Dean asks.
“Check out every five-star hotel in the area,” Sam tells them, then starts across the street. Addison quickly stands up. She exchanges a look with Dean and they follow after the younger Winchester.
After changing and checking out a couple of different hotels, the trio comes upon demons in a hallway. A red-headed woman, who was gagged and had roped wrapped around her hands, was with two other women in the hallway. Dean stabs a demon in the back and she falls to the ground dead. Sam fights with the other demon and Addison easily stabs it in the back with her lavender blade. The trio blocks the women in the hallway.
“Who are those guys,” one of the women asks.
“Hunters,” the red-headed woman replies. She had a Scottish accent. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Don’t worry, ladies,” Dean tells them. “Our beef’s not with you. We’re here for the witch. Rowena.”
“Always nice to be recognized,” Rowena says.
“Do something,” the other woman exclaims. “A spell!”
An annoyed look crosses Rowena’s face. She grabs the woman’s hand and puts a hex bag in it. “That’s an excellent idea. Impetus bestiarum.”
The woman bends over and screams. “What did you do to her,” Dean demands.
The woman lifts her head. Her eyes were now red. Blood was dripping from her nose. The woman runs at them. She punches Dean and Sam. Addison tackles the woman. Rowena and the other woman quickly run past them. “Go,” Addison shouts, dodging a punch. Dean runs after Rowena. Sam runs over to Addison and pulls the woman off of her. They stare at each other, their earlier fight on both of their minds. The snarling woman breaks the moment and they turn to her. “What the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Run,” Sam answers, then takes off down a hallway. Addison follows after him. He opens a random door, glad to see that it’s a storage closet. Addison ducks behind him as the woman runs into the closet. He slams the door shut and they lean against it.
“Smart,” Addison replies.
“Let me out,” the woman shouts, banging against the door.
“Look, whatever she did to you, you have to fight it,” Sam tells her.
“I can’t!”
“How long do you think the spell lasts,” Addison asks. Sam moves away from the door. He pulls out his gun. Addison raises an eyebrow. She moves from the door. Then it goes quiet. Addison opens the door and they see the woman lying on the floor, dead. “I think that answers that question.”
They run out of the hotel and make their way to the alley. Addison pulls out her gun as Sam does the same. They both recognized the man standing in front of Dean. “Put it down,” Dean tells them. “Sam, Ads, put it down!” Cole glances over his shoulder at them. He aims his gun at Dean. “Cole, it’s fine.”
“Dean,” Addison asks.
“Put it down!” Addison stares at Dean, then slowly lowers her gun while Sam does the same. Neither of them trusted Cole. “Cole, hey, right here. We’re talking, okay?”
“How can I believe you, huh,” Cole demands. “How can I believe you? My whole life, I’ve been…”
“I get it. That was your story. Look, man, I got one of those too. Okay, but those stories that we tell to keep us going? Man, sometimes they blind us. They take us to a dark place…the kind of place where I might beat the shit out of good man just for the fun of it. The people who love me, they pulled me back from that edge. Cole, once you touch that darkness…it never goes away. Now, the truth is…I’m past saving. I know how my story ends. It’s at the edge of a blade or the barrel of a gun. So, the question is, is that gonna be today? That gonna be that gun?”
“You’ve got a family, Cole,” Sam says. “I heard you on the phone that night. I’m guessing they need you to come back and they need you to come back whole.”
Tears were making their way down Cole’s face. He holds the gun out to Dean and Dean takes it. Addison stands back with Sam as Dean and Cole talk. Cole climbs into his Jeep and they watch as he drives down the alley.
“He say where he’s going,” Sam questions, looking at Dean.
“Home,” Dean answers.
“Rowena?”
“In the wind.”
“What you said earlier, back there, about being past saving…were you really…”
“I was just telling the guy what he needed to hear. We better go.”
Addison knocks on the door frame of Dean’s room. They had made their way back to the Bunker. He still had cuts and bruises on his face from his fight with Cole. Dean was sitting on his bed, taking off his boots. “Hey,” she softly says, taking a seat next to him. She turns to face him, tucking a leg underneath her. “So, you gonna give online dating a try again or go back to the old-fashioned way?”
Dean sighs. “Look, Ads—” He’s cut off when Addison places a hand on his arm. He feels a warm spread over him. The cuts and bruises on his face are gone. “I thought you weren’t gonna heal me. Ever.”
“I lied.”
“Ain’t that a bitch.”
Dean looks at her. She softly smiles at him.
“Ads, I love you.”
“I love you too, Dean.”
Addison places a hand on his cheek. “You’re not beyond saving, Dean,” she whispers.
“Ads—”
“You can lie to Sam all you want,” she softly interrupts. “But we both know that you suck at lying to me.” He stares at her. More than anything he wanted to kiss her at the moment. He wants to feel her underneath him. He wants to hear the noises she makes as he causes her to come undone. He wants to wake up her soft snoring in his ear. He wants a life with her.
Dean clears his throat and looks away from her. “Yeah, I know.”
Addison stands up. She holds out a hand. “I picked up some pizza and your favorite beer.” He stares at her hand, then grabs it and allows her to pull him out of his room. He knew that he would never have her. Have a life with her. But he was going to take everything she was willing to give him.
Chapter 8: Hibbing 911
Chapter Text
Addison yawns as she walks into the library with Sam. Dean was sitting at one of the tables, surround by books. He had an empty coffee cup next to him. “Hey,” Sam greets as Addison sits down across from Dean. “We good?”
“Aces,” Dean replies. “Yeah, I love the smell of parchment in the morning.”
“How is it that we’ve gone through all this crap and still have nothing on the Mark,” Addison mutters, eyeing the pile of books.
“Right? You’d think these eggheads with all the shit they amassed over the years, would have actually collected something important.” Dean holds up the thick file in front of him. “Uh, here. ‘He-wolf/She-wolf: A Study in Werewolf Transgenderism.’ Six hundred pages, volume one. But, uh, not something important, like, I don’t know, maybe the oldest symbol known to man. That’s not worth our time. It’s not weird enough.”
Sam sits down next to Addison. “Well, we keep looking. There’s got to be something here.”
A few hours later, the trio is still sitting in the mostly silent library. A familiar soft snoring causes Dean to look up from the book in front of him. He rolls his eyes seeing that Addison had apparently fallen asleep, with her head propped in her hand.
Sam’s phone ringing cuts through the silence. He picks it up and smiles seeing Jody’s name. “No way,” he says. “Jody! How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know,” Jody replies. “Having the time of my life at a sheriff’s retreat in Hibbing.”
“Wow. Sounds like a blast.” Dean waves at him. “Uh, Dean and Ads say hi.”
“You found them? Thanks for telling me!”
“Yeah. Uh, right. Sorry about that.”
“How are they doing?”
“Good, good. Yeah, you know. Uh, you know, hold on a sec, I’m gonna put you on speaker,” Sam tells her then hits the speaker button.
“Hey, Jody,” Dean greets. “How’s Alex holding up?”
“Awesome,” Jody tells him. “Already head of the cheerleading squad.”
Sam’s gaze widens. “Wow! Really?”
“No. Sam, she smokes grass under the bleachers. But at least she’s not luring men to their deaths.”
“Right.”
“Listen, this may not be your kind of thing, but a body was found here this morning and something had gone to chow town on it.”
“Uh, was the throat ripped out?”
“Worse. I’m hearing that all the flesh had been eaten down to the bones. Any ideas?”
“Well, it’s not a vampire,” Dean comments.
Sam frowns. “Yeah, I-I don’t know, Jody. I-I got nothing.”
“Jody, um, we could head that way. Wouldn’t be any trouble at all.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I can handle it. I promise I’ll call if it gets to something I can’t,” Jody tells them.
“All right. Well, uh, enjoy the retreat,” Sam says.
“Fuck you, Winchester,” Jody amusedly replies.
Sam chuckles. “Talk soon.” He hangs up and turns back to the book in front of him.
“I’m gonna swallow a bag of knives if I got to keep looking at this stuff,” Dean tells him. “Princess Leia here is drooling. Let’s—”
“Jody said she was on top of it, Dean,” Sam interrupts. Dean stares at him with his best version of puppy eyes. Sam sighs. “All right. Let’s take a drive.”
Dean jumps up. “Awesome. Uh, you wake up, Yogi Bear and I’ll meet you at the car.” Dean runs out of the library. Sam sighs as he looks at Addison.
Addison brushes invisible lent off her suit jacket as she walks with the boys into the lodge where the sheriff’s retreat was taking place. “I said I could handle it,” Jody greets, walking over to them. She hugs Addison before turning to the boys.
“Nice to see you too,” Dean replies, hugging Jody.
“Okay, I’m headed to the morgue. You want in,” Jody asks, looking between them.
“We just came from there,” Addison replies, looking around the lodge. She notices a familiar face staring at her and quickly looks away.
“And?”
“And flesh was eaten off the second vic too,” Sam tells her.
“Anything missing?”
“Eh, his wallet,” Dean answers. “Why?”
“Because I think a belt was missing off the first vic.”
Addison frowns, turning her attention back to the Jody. “A belt? We got monsters eating and robbing people now?”
“Jodio,” a feminine voice calls. “You take sugar?”
Jody sighs. She was clearly annoyed. “No. No sugar,” she calls back.
“Okeydokes.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “‘Jodio?’”
“Its, ah, don’t ask,” Jody tells them.
Sam stares in the direction that the shout came from. He recognized the blonde woman wearing a sheriff’s outfit. “Wait a second. Isn’t that, uh, Donna?”
Dean snaps his fingers. “Fat spa Donna! Right.”
Jody looks between the boys. “You guys know my stalker?”
“She nearly blew a case for us last time.”
“Yeah, I haven’t been able to shake that ray of sunshine since I got here. She’s actually been pretty helpful, but, you know, it’s just tough keeping her out of this nightmare stuff, you know?”
“Right. You mind distracting her while we poke around,” Sam asks.
Jody stares, clearly annoyed. “You show up and now I’m a babysitter?”
“Look, she hasn’t gotten mixed up with this shit yet. Let’s just try to keep it that way.”
Jody lets out a frustrated breath. “Fine. But if she tries to show me her sticker collection, I’m out.”
“Agent Frehley,” Donna brightly asks joining them. “Agent Criss?”
“Hey. Sheriff Hanscum,” Sam awkwardly replies.
“I thought that was you! Well, ain’t this a kick in the pants? What dragged you in?”
“Uh, well, uh…we can’t talk about it,” Dean replies.
Donna nods. “Oh. Yeah. I hear ya. Anything I can help with?”
“Oh, no, no, no, no,” Sam quickly says. “Uh, nothing.”
“Actually, Sheriff, I was thinking you and I could go check out the gear expo,” Jody says.
Donna frowns. “What about the morgue?”
“Well, you know, like you said, animal control will handle that,” Jody replies.
“Well, if it’s cool with you, it’s cool with me.”
“Great.”
“Did hear they’re packing some pretty serious heat in there,” Donna says as she and Jody walk away.
Addison clears her throat. “Um, you guys go ahead. I gotta use the bathroom,” she tells Dean and Sam before quickly walking away.
Dean exchanges a look with Sam. “Why is Ads being weird?”
“Needing to use the bathroom doesn’t make Ads weird,” Sam replies, shaking his head.
“No. She’s being weird and has been for the past couple of weeks. Are you guys having a fight? Because if you are, I need to know for my own sanity,” Dean argues as they reach the group of sheriffs standing by a table filled with pastries. “Hey, there. Agents Criss and Frehley. Looking for the sheriff…of…Hibbing.”
“That’d be me,” Sheriff Cuse says.
“Well, we’re here investigating the attacks over the last couple nights. Just wondering where you’re at on that,” Sam questions.
Sheriff Cuse frowns. “On the, uh, animal attacks?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” another officer. His name tag showed that his last name was Graham. “You’re telling me the FBI’s got nothing better to do?”
“Well, we go where the boss tells us to,” Dean replies.
“To what? Arrest a bobcat from Hibbing?”
Dean stares at the man. “Is there a problem?”
“No. No, there’s no problem. You ain’t the first feds to roll through here and come up with nothing. Sure is cute to watch you try, though.”
“Oh, pal, the FBI doesn’t do cute.”
Sam clears his throat. “Uh, Sheriff Cuse, we are just hoping there might be some surveillance footage of the attacks. Maybe a traffic camera caught something.”
“Right,” Sheriff Cuse replies. “No. Sorry, I-I-I don’t have a record of it. Speaking of, uh, can you keep an eye on the expo for me, uh, deputy? I got the check in with the guys at animal control. Agents, good to meet you. Uh, help yourself to a bear claw.”
The officers walk away. “Sheriff’s lying,” Sam questions, turning to Dean.
“Deputy douche seems to think so,” Dean replies.
“All right. I’ll go try and crack the police server. Maybe something showed up on surveillance.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll go crash the deputy.”
“Right, but this time, trying to be a little less defensive of your ‘pretend job.’”
“You know, this badge means something.”
“I made it at Kinko’s.”
“Yes, you did. Be proud of that.”
“Agents.” The boys turn to see another sheriff walking up towards them. He was tall with dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. “You guys work with Agent Woods?”
Sam and Dean exchange a look. “We do,” Sam cautiously replies.
“Is she here with you?”
Dean narrows his gaze. He didn’t like that this sheriff was asking after Addison. “Why do you want to know, Sheriff?”
The sheriff shrugs. “I just want to say hi. I worked a case with her a few years ago. But don’t worry about it,” the sheriff tells them, then walks away.
Dean looks at his younger brother. “See, I told you Ads was being weird. I bet that guy has something to do with it.”
Sam shakes his head. “Needing to use the bathroom doesn’t mean Ads is being weird, Dean.”
Addison lets out a relieved breath as she walks out of the bathroom. She had recognized Chase Camden. And she was hoping to continue to avoid the deputy from Fargo. She smooths down her blazer and starts to head down the hallway when a hand wraps around her arm and she’s shoved against a wall. “Agent Woods, long time no see,” Chase angrily greets. He squeezes her arm and she winces.
Addison awkwardly smiles. “Deputy—”
“Sheriff,” Chase corrects. “I won my election last year.”
“Congratulations.”
“Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t arrest you right now, Addison Winchester. Born March 17, 1979 in London, England.”
“Um…because there’s a monster in town,” Addison weakly answers.
“Yeah, I don’t give a fuck. You stole three grand from me, bitch.”
“Um…sorry?”
“I want my fucking money back. Or I will arrest you and throw your ass in jail so fast you won’t know what hit you until you’re being deported.”
Addison shifts. “Um, I’m a dual citizen. I can’t be deported.”
“Then I’ll make sure your ass rots in jail for the rest of your life.”
“Everything okay?”
They turn to see Jody standing a few feet away. Her arms were crossed over her chest. “Everything’s fine,” Chase lies, moving back from Addison. “Agent Woods and I were just discussing the case she did in Fargo a few years back. Weren’t we, Agent Woods?”
“Yeah, we’ll go with that,” Addison replies, avoiding Jody’s gaze.
“Agent Woods, I’ll talk with you later,” Chase says, then heads down the hallway.
Addison rubs her arm where Chase had grabbed her. “I had it handled,” she tells Jody.
“Mmhmm. Sure looked like it,” Jody replies. “Want to tell me what happened?”
Addison shakes her head. “No. Not really.” She bites her lip and looks at Jody. “Could you keep this between us?” Jody just stares at her, eyebrow raised.
“Animal attack my ass,” Dean says, shaking his head. He had run into Jody after talking with Deputy Graham at the gear expo. He had been looking for Addison but hadn’t seen her anywhere. “You seen Sheriff Cuse around?”
“Not since the expo,” Jody replies.
“Yeah, me neither.”
Jody looks at him. “How you doing, kiddo?”
“Me? Fantastic. Why?”
“Word ‘round the campfire is that you went off the rez a couple months back.”
Dean scoffs. “That right? You and Sam been passing notes during class?” He shakes his head, dismissing the concern. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Just sayin’. I make a mean bowl of chowder if you ever need to talk.”
“I appreciate that. Have you seen Ads?”
“I ran into her earlier. She was having what looked to be a unhappy conversation with Sheriff Camden. Which she didn’t want me to tell you about. Speaking of Addison, Sam also had asked me to keep an eye out if I saw her when she also went off the the rez a few months ago too.”
“Hey,” Sam greets walking over to them.
“You got something,” Dean asks him.
“Uh, well, there was something. I hacked into the surveillance server, but the files had been deleted.”
Jody frowns. “I thought you said that Sheriff Cuse was the only one who had access to those files.”
Sam forces a smile as Donna quickly walks up to them. “Um, hi,” he greets.
“Hi. Jody, can we talk a sec,” Donna quickly asks. “Alone?”
“Yeah, we’ll go…we’ll go look around,” Dean replies and walks off with Sam. “Hey, you seen Ads?”
Sam sighs as they head down a hallway. “No, I haven’t. But I’m sure she’s fine, Dean. Ads is an adult and she can take care of herself.”
“Is that why you asked Jody to keep an eye out for Ads,” Dean counters, wanting to know what had happened between Sam and Addison while he was a demon.
“I was worried about her. She was hunting on her own,” Sam replies. “Can we focus on the hunt or do you want keep worrying about Ads when she’s fine?”
“Yeah, well, Jody saw that cop that asked about Ads threatening her in the hallway,” Dean tells him. “And you don’t seem to give a crap at all about Ads right now because you guys are having a fight.”
Sam lets out an annoyed breath. The relationship between him and Addison had changed since their argument in the motel room a couple of weeks earlier. “Look, Dean, I care about Ads, but we’re taking some space. So, unless she’s in physical danger or asks for help, I’m giving her space.”
Addison rubs her arm as she walks down one of the lodge’s hallways. She had no idea where Sam or Dean were or were Jody was. And she figured she was doing a pretty good job of avoiding Chase. She had zero desire to deal with him at the moment. “Where have you been?” Addison jumps at seeing Dean and Sam standing in front of one of the room doors. Dean hadn’t missed the way she was rubbing her arm.
“Uh, working,” Addison lies. Dean stares at her. He didn’t believe her. “Talking to some locals seeing if there’s any legends or anything. I have come up with zero leads.”
“Guys,” Sam tells them and they turn to see him start to open the door. They start into the room to find Jody with a machete and Donna aiming her gun at the door. “Whoa. Whoa. Got your voicemail.”
“Sheriff Cuse is a vampire,” Jody says.
“She just pulled out a machete,” Donna says at the same time.
The trio exchange a look. They look between Jody and Donna. “Donna saw his teeth,” Jody adds.
“What the cuss? A vampire?!”
Dean looks at Jody. “You want to give her the talk?”
A short while later, after changing out of the fed suits and giving Jody time to explain the reality of their world to Donna, the group is standing outside near the Impala. “Heck. Just…Heck,” Donna says.
“We good,” Dean asks her.
Donna looks at him. “Wait. So, when we were at the weight loss spa—”
“Monsters. Sucking on your fat,” Dean interrupts. “We took care of them.”
“Ah, jeez. I knew losing ten pounds that fast was too good to be true.” Donna reaches into her coat pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. “Here. Maybe this is where sheriff…vampire went.”
“It could be anything,” Dean says as Sam types in the address into his phone. “What do you got?”
“Looks like it’s an old farm outside of town,” Sam replies.
“Could be something.”
“And it’s the only lead we got,” Donna points out.
“‘We,’” Sam repeats. “All due respect, Sheriff, but vampires are far more dangerous than the johns you throw in jail.”
“You’re gonna sit this one out,” Dean adds.
“Stuff you, Dean,” Donna snaps. Addison raises an eyebrow, but softly smiles. Dean’s gaze widens. “Or whatever your real name is.”
“Hanscum’s good,” Jody tells them.
Annoyance crosses Dean’s face. “Jody—”
“I said she’s good,” Jody interrupts.
Dean sighs. “Okay. All right. But you’re staying back. We’re taking the lead, okay?”
Addison groans as she slowly opens her eyes. Pain erupts from the back of her head. Something had jumped them shortly after they had arrived at the farm. She looks around the barn to find that everyone was tied to poles except for herself. She was lying on the floor with her arms tied behind her back. One of the vampires, a young woman, walks up to Dean. “It’s all love, pretty boy. All of you will become all of us. We won’t waste one bit,” she tells him.
Dean rolls his eyes. “Okay, Mufasa, enough with the ‘Circle of Life' shit. You’re a vampire.” The vampire just smiles. “You’re scum. End of story.” The vampire starts to take off his belt. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood.”
“Wait,” Jody says. “It’s not enough that you kill people. You’ve got the rob them too?”
“We scavenge,” the vampire replies. “We don’t sip and go. We use every part of the buffalo.”
“And to think gave you lunch money.”
“But you came in time for dinner.”
“Starr, please let them go,” Sheriff Cuse says. He was being held back by another vampire. “I helped you out. I-I ditched that video of Catfish killing that man.”
“We didn’t want favors, Len,” Starr argues. “We wanted you.”
“What use am I now? I don’t even kill people. I-I’m on bagged blood.”
“Uh, I beg your pardon? I saw you with your vampire face standing over Sheriff Goodhill,” Donna points out.
“No, no. I-I-I found her. I-I smelled her blood. I-I couldn’t help my-my fangs. But I didn’t bite.”
“Well, aren’t you a hero,” Dean comments
“It’s your nature to eat people. A vampire who doesn’t feed is like a…like a…”
“Tiger eating salad,” the other vampire says.
“We’re not gonna stop, Len. We’ll take down every person in your sweet little Hibbing till you come back to the nest.”
“So, what’d you do, Len,” Sam asks. “You, uh, break up Burning Man?”
“More like Woodstock. Len found me crying on the curb after my daddy kicked me out. I got in Len’s van and the rest is wavy gravy.”
“So…what…Len’s like your Charlie Manson,” Jody disbelievingly asks.
“Ohh. Charlie couldn’t hold a candle to Len. He taught us everything.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it was all kombucha and Kumbaya,” Dean mutters.
“Liberating is what is was,” Starr argues. “And then, one day, poof! Len’s gone.”
“Till he landed his photo in the paper,” the other vampire says. “Stupid.”
“For running a police retreat, of all things. You did’t just go straight. You became a damn cop. Now, that is wild, man. Are you feeling dirty, Len? Cause we’re about to have ourselves a bloodbath,” Starr says, walking over to Addison. She grabs a fistful of Addison’s hair and yanks the hunter up. “And we’re gonna start with her. We can smell her blood, Len. And it’s nothing like we’ve ever smelled before.”
“Don’t you want to know why I left,” Len asks, trying to stall.
“I already know why. You got boring.”
“I got a conscience.”
“Oh?”
“Petty that begged for their lives…I…it was even like even if I used every part, like I taught you, I mean, it’s still wrong.”
Addison looks up at Len. “You walked away,” she states.
“I tried to protect people. After so many years of…gutting them. That’s why I’m here. I’ll join your bloody caravan…if it means you won’t kill these people.”
“We aren’t killing anyone. You are,” Starr tells him.
Jody stares at Len. “You don’t have to do this.”
Len’s silent for a moment. He glares at Starr. “Kiss my ass.”
“Mm. We love you, brother. But we don’t know who you are anymore,” Starr says, then uses a machete to chop off Len’s head. She shrugs and tosses the machete on the ground. “Can’t say we didn’t try.”
In a matter of seconds, Dean manages to break free and grabs the machete. He chops one of the vampire’s heads off. Donna manages to also break free and grabs a machete. She slice off Starr’s head. “Hakuna matata, lady,” Donna says.
Dean drops the machete and walks over to Addison. He helps Addison up and he doesn’t miss the wince across her face when he touches her arm. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Dean comments.
Dean walks into the lodge’s bar and looks around before he finds Addison sitting at the end with a plate of fries and a glass of wine in front of her. Jody had given them her room at the lodge for the night and was bunking with Donna. He takes a seat next to Addison and after ordering a glass of bourbon, he turns to her. “Let me see it,” he quietly says. Addison looks up at him with a confused look. “Your arm.”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Dean, I’m fine.”
“Ads, you’ve been acting weird since we got here.”
“Dean—”
“You and Sam are fighting or whatever and taking space from each other. But you’re not taking space from me.”
“Dean—”
“Jody said she saw some guy threatening you.”
Addison lets out a frustrated breath. “I told her not to say anything to you.”
“Yeah, well, she did. Ads, what the hell is going on with you?”
“Agent Woods.” The hunters turn to find Chase standing behind them. He glances at Dean before turning his gaze to Addison. “Can we talk?”
“No,” Addison replies, turning back to her drink.
“Look, Addison—”
“She said she doesn’t want to talk,” Dean snaps, feeling the power of the Mark in him.
Chase glares at him. “Buddy, this doesn’t involve you.”
Dean stands up from the bar stool. “If it involves her then it involves me. Now, you can leave or we can take this outside.”
Chase takes a step towards Dean. “How about you stay out of it.”
Addison hopes up from her seat and pushes in-between the two men. “Look, Sheriff, do you really want this entire bar of cops to know that a one night stand stole the shoe box of money you put under your bed,” she pointedly says.
Chase coldly chuckles. “You know what, consider payment for services rendered. You’re nothing but a whore anyway.”
Dean clenches his fist as Chase walks away from them. Addison reaches into her back pocket and pulls out some cash. She sets it down on the counter. “I’m going to bed,” she softly tells him, walks out of the bar. Dean throws a quick glance over his shoulder and finds the sheriff watching them with a smirk. A smirk that Dean wanted to beat off of Chase’s face. He shots another glare at the sheriff then follows after Addison, doing his best to ignoring the Mark flowing through him.
Chapter 9: The Things We Left Behind
Chapter Text
Dean rubs his face as he walks into the kitchen. The dream he had was bothering him. He was kneeling in the center of a room surrounded by dead bodies. Bodies that were covered in blood. He was covered in blood and clutching a bloodied knife. Needless to say, he hadn’t been able to sleep any longer after that.
Addison was sitting at the table with her laptop in front of her. She was absently rubbing her left arm in the spot where the Sheriff had grabbed her. The same spot where Patrick always left bruises after grabbing her. Ever since they had left Hibbing, Addison had been quieter. More than once Dean had caught her rubbing her arm with a sad look on her face.
“Hey,” Dean greets, walking over to the coffee pot.
“Hey,” Addison softly replies, dropping her hand from her arm. “What are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean lies. “You?”
“Same.”
Dean sits down across from her. “Anything interesting?”
“No.” Addison closes her laptop. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You?”
“I’m fine, Dean,” Addison tells him, standing up. She softly smiles and he knows that she’s anything but fine. “I’m gonna get some laundry going.”
Addison starts to walk out of the kitchen. “Ads.” She turns to face him. Dean stands up from the table and walks over to her. He pulls her into a tight embrace and she returns it. He presses a soft kiss to the side of her head. “You know, I can find that guy and beat his ass into next week.”
Addison lightly chuckles as she pulls back. He keeps a hand on her waist. “Dean, I’m fine. I promise,” she reassures. She lightly pats his chest. “But the moment I need you to kick someone’s ass, I’ll let you.”
Dean doesn’t say anything. He wants to lean down and kiss her. He wants to pick her up and set her on the table. He wants to make her moan his name. The grip on her waist tightens. Addison shoots him another smile then walks out of the kitchen. Dean runs a hand over his face. As much as he wanted to go after her, to let her know how he felt about her, he couldn’t.
“This is why you called us,” Dean disbelievingly says as they stand in the parking lot outside of a restaurant. The trio’s quiet day, which had consisted of Dean watching old episodes of the Three Stooges while Addison and Sam did some chores around the Bunker, had been interrupted once Castiel had called them. “This is your emergency?”
“Yes,” Castiel exclaims, annoyed.
“No, Cas! An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or-or a wigged-out angel or the Apocalypse, take three. Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That’s…that’s every Friday night for Sam.”
Sam shoots his older brother an annoyed look. “Dude.”
Dean shrugs. “Well…Excluding Ads.”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Thanks…I guess.”
“This isn’t just ‘some chick.’ I’m responsible for her,” Castiel argues.
“Since when? You met her once, how many years ago,” Dean questions.
“Look, Cas. Even if we do find Claire…then what,” Sam asks.
“She rolled you and then she ran, okay? It’s pretty clear that she doesn’t want to play house.”
“I understand. But I need to know that Claire is safe. And I need your help,” Castiel tells them.
Addison sighs. “Okay. Let’s go to the group home and ask around. Maybe we can find where she likes to hang out.”
“Uh, you know what,” Dean replies, pulling out the Impala’s keys. He tosses them to Sam. “We’re going to stick here in case she circles back. You guys go ahead.”
Castiel lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you.”
Addison watches as the head counselor hands Sam a file with information on Claire. “Claire’s a good kid, detectives,” the woman tells them. “She’s smart, and underneath it all, she has a big heart. You know, there used to be a boy here. Dustin Tate. He was older, but Claire really took him under her wing.”
“Is he around,” Addison softly questions.
“He works at the Wiener Hut. We tried to place Claire, but she always ran away. Sometimes for a couple of days…one time for six months.”
“Wow,” Sam lets out. “Where does she hide out?”
“Wish I knew,” the woman replies.
“Thank you,” Addison says, standing up. She walks out of the building with Sam.
It’s when they’re in the Impala, heading back to meet up with Dean and Castiel, Sam breaks the silence that had settled over them. “Ads, you okay,” he asks her.
“I’m fine,” Addison softly replies, staring out the window. “Why?”
“You’ve been…” Sam shifts. “I don’t know. It feels like you’ve been quiet since we helped Jody with that job.”
Addison shoots him a reassuring smile. “Sam, I’m fine.”
Sam shifts. “Look, Ads, I know things between us haven’t been the best lately but I like to think that we’re still friends.”
“Sam, I’m fine. I promise,” Addison reassures.
“If-if you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”
“Okay, Sam.” Addison turns her gaze out of the window to look at the passing scenery. Sam sighs, knowing that she wouldn’t tell him what was going on with her. He knows that if she talked with anyone it was always with Dean.
Addison leans against the Impala as she, Sam, and Dean wait in the alley behind the convenience store. Finding Dustin Tate hadn’t been hard. And getting information from him hadn’t been hard after Castiel had threatened the young man. The angel had been more alarmed by the information that Dustin had given them.
“Claire, wait,” Castiel calls as the trio turns to see a teenage girl with long curly blonde hair walking down the alley. She had dark eye makeup on and wore jeans with a dark hoodie.
“Screw you,” Claire Novak snaps.
Dean pushes away from the Impala. “Whoa, hey, Miley Cyrus. Settle.”
“Eat me, Hasselhoff,” Claire angrily tells him.
Sam holds up his hands. “Claire, hold on a second. Look, my name’s—”
“Sam,” Claire answers. She looks at Dean. “You’re Dean.” She turns to Addison. “And you’re Addison. We’ve met, remember?” Addison looks away. She easily remembered meeting a much younger Claire Novak during the apocalypse, of what had happened afterward.
“Claire,” Castiel begins. “You were going to rob that convenience store.”
“So?”
“‘So?’ So…it’s-it’s wrong!”
“You want to talk to me about wrong? You killed my dad. Is that ‘wrong’ enough for you?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Really? Because without you, he’d still be here. And my mom would still be around.”
“Claire, I’m—” Castiel stops when Claire pulls the small revolver from her pocket and aims it at him.
“Don’t,” Claire warns.
“That won’t hurt me.”
“Fine.”
Claire aims her gun at the trio. Dean and Sam take a step back while Addison doesn’t move. “Whoa,” Dean says. “Hey, come on.”
“Hold on a second,” Sam tells her.
“Why? Like you don’t have it coming,” Claire argues. “You stood there while this monster took my dad.” Claire lowers the gun as she turns to Castiel. “I used to pray to you, Castiel. Every night. I would beg you to bring him home safe.”
Castiel sighs. “I know.”
“You know…my father was a good man. In what messed-up world does he have to die and you get to live?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No. You feel guilty. There’s a difference.”
“You gonna run back to Randy,” Addison asks, staring at the teenager. “The guy who convinced you to steal for him?”
Claire stares back at Addison. “How do you know about that?”
“Dustin.”
“Claire, that man is using you,” Castiel tells her.
“He was there for me. When things got bad…and they got real damn bad…he was there when no one else was. He’s my family. And you’re just…you can go to Hell,” Claire says, then takes off down the alley. Castiel starts to follow her but stops at the last minute, unsure.
“Ads, did you love your father?”
Addison blinks and glances at Castiel, who was sitting in the backseat of the Impala with her. She had done everything she could to avoid being part of the conversation they had at the bar. She had remembered hearing about the CBGB story from Dean when they were teenagers. Hearing the story had brought up her memories of John Winchester being there when she had needed a parent. Like how he had taken her in when Patrick had vanished for a year.
Addison shifts, trying to figure out how to answer the angel. “I did,” she carefully answers, knowing that Dean and Sam would be listening. She meets the angel’s gaze. She knew he was expecting some story similar to what Dean had told him. But there was no way she could give him that. She didn’t have one like it. “Look, Cas, my dad had his issues. There were times when he was a good dad. And there were times when he wasn’t a good dad.”
A curious look appears on the angel’s face. Addison sighs. “When I was twelve, my dad hit me with a belt. Because I went to the library to return a book and wasn’t there when he woke up. It didn’t matter that he showed up in the middle of the night, drunk, and then passed out on the couch for the majority of the day. I wasn’t there, and I had to be punished. So, yeah, I did love him. But I also hated him. And it was fine. Because I’m pretty sure part of him hated me too.”
Castiel stares at her. She didn’t miss the pity in his gaze. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Addison softly replies, turning to look back out of the window.
Silence settles over the Impala as they head to Randy’s house to pick up Claire. After grabbing their guns, the trio and the angel walk up to the door. The door opens and a man they’ve never seen before is standing there. Castiel lifts a hand and sends the man flying backwards. The man they can only assume is Randy is standing there with another man.
“Don’t,” Sam warns at seeing a man start toward Castiel.
“Back it up,” Dean tells them as they hold the men at gunpoint.
“Where’s the girl,” Castiel demands. A scream comes from upstairs and the angel runs towards it.
The trio stands there, guns drawn on all the men. Heavy footsteps signal Claire and Castiel walking down the stairs. “Randy,” Claire breathes, taking a few steps towards him. Randy looks at Claire for a moment, then turns his gaze to the ground.
“Get her out of here,” Dean orders.
“Let’s go, Claire,” Addison softly says. Claire walks out of the house with Castiel. Addison stands for a moment, then follows them out with Sam.
Sam places a protective hand on Addison’s back. He wants to ask her about what she had said. He wants to know more about how Patrick had treated her. He opens the front door of the Impala and Addison climbs into the front seat. Sam climbs in after while Claire and Castiel are in the backseat. Sam places a hand on her leg. She shoots him a soft smile and he returns it. “Ads,” Sam begins. Yelling from the house causes him to turn. Sam climbs out of the Impala and Addison quickly follows him.
Addison runs with Sam back into the house. They were both worried that something had happened to Dean. As they enter the house, Addison freezes. Dean was kneeling on the floor, covered in blood. The bodies of the men were spread out around the living room. Blood was everywhere. The men had been slashed opened. Addison quickly turns and walks out of the house. Claire was talking towards the house with Castiel right behind her. “Go back to the car,” Addison orders, blocking Claire.
“No,” Claire argues, pushing past Addison.
Addison reaches to grab the teenager’s arm, but Claire evades her and enters the house. Claire screams at seeing the scene. Addison and Castiel follow after Claire. Addison doesn’t miss the shocked look on Castiel’s face as he looks over the scene.
“Tell me it was them or you,” Sam demands. He was kneeling in front of Dean and cupping Dean’s face. Dean remains quiet and Sam’s hands fall from his brother.
“Cas,” Addison says. The angel pays no attention to her. “Castiel.” He blinks and turns to look at her. “Take Claire back to the car.” Castiel leads Claire out of the house. Addison walks over to the brothers.
Sam stands up and moves to block Addison. The last thing he wanted was for Dean to hurt Addison while he was like this. “Ads, no,” Sam tells her.
Addison moves around him to reach Dean. She kneels in front of him. She sees the horrified look on his face as he takes in the scene around him. Addison wraps her arms around him and tightly embraces him. “Dean,” she softly says. She places a protective hand on the back of his head. “It’s okay.”
The knife falls from Dean’s grasp. But he makes no move to hug her back. “Ads, I didn’t mean to,” Dean whispers.
“I know, Dean. I know. It’s not your fault, okay.” Addison starts to stand up when he finally starts to returns her hug. His hand fists in her jacket. “Dean, it’s okay. It’s okay.” His head drops onto her shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.” Addison starts to pull back, but he tightens his grip on her. She reaches into the pocket where Dean kept the Impala’s keys and pulls them out. Addison tosses them to Sam and he easily catches them.
Sam casts her a worried glance but walks out of the house. Addison places a hand on his shoulder and in an instant, they’re transported to the door outside of the Bunker. Feeling the cool breeze on him, Dean releases his grip on Addison and stands up. He takes in the sight of her blood-covered clothes. “Ads…” he trails off.
“It’s not my blood,” Addison tells him. Dean looks down at his clothes and finds that they’re covered in blood. The numbness that he had been feeling was slowly being replaced with guilt. She places a hand on his arm. “Hey, let’s get cleaned up.”
Dean runs a hand over his face as he walks with Addison into the Bunker. Neither of them says anything as they walk through the silent bunker. They reach the bathroom and Addison moves to continue down the hallway to her room. He grabs her wrists and she looks at him. “Don’t go,” he quietly says.
Addison looks up at him. “I’m not going anywhere, Dean.”
Chapter 10: The Hunter Games
Chapter Text
Addison tightly holds the mug in her hand as she sits at a table in the Bunker’s library. She was currently watching Castiel pace around the room. “She barely speaks to me,” he tells her. Sam walks into the room and sits down next to Addison. “She’s like a wounded animal, just watching me.”
Sam had shown up at the Bunker hours after Dean and Addison. He had stopped and dropped Claire and Castiel off at a motel not far from town. Though Castiel hadn’t stayed there long before joining the trio at the Bunker. “Cas,” Addison softly begins. “You tried to do the right thing. You really did. That Randy guy was only using Claire.”
Castiel turns to Addison. “When you were Claire’s age, did you have someone like Randy in your life?”
“Cas, I never had anyone emotionally manipulate me into robbing a Gas ’N Sip,” Addison replies, avoiding the question.
“Well, she thought he was kind. And for that, she loved him. Shows how little kindness there was in her life. You know, whatever Randy did, he didn’t deserve—”
“No, yeah, we know,” Sam interrupts. “We know. We hear you. Dean has had to kill before. We all have. But that was…”
“That was what?”
They turn to see Dean walk into the library. “Dean,” Sam says, standing up.
“That was a massacre. That’s what it was,” Dean tells them. “There was a time I was a hunter, not a stone-cold killer? You can say it. You’re not wrong. I crossed the line.” He holds out his arm where the Mark of Cain was. “Guys, this thing’s gotta go.”
“That won’t be easy,” Castiel tells him.
“Well, then burn it off! Cut it off!”
“It is more than just a physical thing. It will take a very powerful force to remove the effect.”
“Dean, we have been through all the lore. There’s nothing,” Sam reminds him.
“This reaches back to the time of creation,” Castiel adds. “It may predate the lore. If we have the demon tablet, maybe.”
“Except you said it was missing,” Addison says.
“It is,” Castiel confirms. He sighs. “There may be another way.”
Addison focuses on tossing the dark clothing into the washing machine. She was doing what she could to avoid thinking about what she had told Castiel and the boys about her father. The memories she had long buried and did everything she could to forget.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Addison glances over her shoulder to find Dean leaning against the door frame of the laundry room. “Tell you what,” Addison replies, turning back to the pile.
“About Patrick hitting you with a belt, Ads,” Dean replies. He hadn’t forgotten about what she had said in the Impala the other night.
“Because I’ve moved past it, Dean. It was a long time ago.”
Dean moves closer to her. “Was that the only time?”
Addison turns to face him. She leans against the washing machine. “No.” He clenches his jaw and looks away from her. “Dean?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Addison sighs. “Because I didn’t want to put that on you.” He walks over to her and tightly embraces her. She leans into his warmth. Her arms slide around his waist. “Dean, I’m fine.”
“I should’ve protected you. I should’ve told Dad about Patrick hurting you when I first learned about it.”
“But you didn’t because I asked you not to. Because we both knew what would’ve happened if my dad had found out I told someone. Look…all that matters is that I’m fine now,” Addison softly says, pulling back. She places a hand on his cheek, feeling the stubble against her palm. “And we’re gonna find a way to get the Mark off your arm. I promise.”
Dean stares at her. He wants to kiss her. He wants to press her against the washing machine and have her come undone under him. He wants to hear the soft moans. He wants his face buried between her legs. He wants to wake up with her pressed against him. He wants a life with her.
Addison softly smiles at him and turns back to the pile of dirty clothes sitting on the small work table, oblivious to the internal struggle he was currently feeling. “Do you want me to wash your darks too?”
Dean blinks, realizing that she wasn’t in his arms any longer. He clears his throat. “No. No, I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
Addison sits on the table in the dungeon next to Sam. Dean was leaning against the same table, next to her. Sam had brought Metatron back to the Bunker, something that she and Dean had found out after the fact. “Ain’t life a bitch,” Metatron says, looking between the trio. “Nebbishy little guy, me, always sticking it to the lunkhead jocks.”
“You know what, fuck the Mark,” Dean says. “Let’s just kill him.”
“Boy, he really is a mess. Who knew the Mark was so toxic? Well, actually, I did.” Metatron looks at Dean. “You know it is going to own you sooner than later.”
“Then how do we get rid of it,” Addison questions.
“What? Just like that social hour’s over,” Metatron replies.
Addison slides off the table. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Yeah. And it’s time for you to give the Ted Talk.”
“With us asking the questions,” Dean adds. “And me taking the personal pleasure of carving the answers out of you.”
“Now, just…” Metatron looks between Dean and Addison. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, badass. Lighten up! Why do you just assume I’m not gonna be helpful?”
“Because you’re a dickwad,” Sam answers.
“But I’m your dickwad. I have a special place in my non-heart for you three. To which end - ta-da! I’d be tickled to help you pop this biblical zit. To do it, you’re gonna need one specific thing. Your old bud. The First Blade.”
Sam frowns. “What?”
“As I said: Ain’t life a bitch.”
Dean stands there for a moment, then walks out of the dungeon with Addison right behind him. “So, you’re gonna need to call your summer fling and ask him for the First Blade,” Addison tells Dean as Sam joins them in the hallway.
Sam looks between them. “Ads—”
“It’s the only thing on the table at the moment,” Addison interrupts, walking down the hallway with Dean.
Sam shakes his head. “This is the single worst idea I’ve ever heard, Ads. Dean just whacked a whole house full of people and that’s when the Blade was nowhere around. And now you wanna let him be in actual contact with it?”
“We don’t know that I have to be in contact with it,” Dean argues as they walk into the library. “All we know is that we need it.”
“No, no, all we know is he says we need it. We don’t even know what he wants us to do with it.”
“A step at a time, alright. We play it safe, we learn whatever the spell is, how it works, and we keep the Blade out of my hands,” Dean says, pulling out his phone.
“Are you sure this isn’t the Mark making you want the damn thing, Dean? I mean, why would we trust anything Metatron says?”
“I don’t trust Metatron.”
“You don’t tru — then what?”
“Sam, Metatron is obviously playing us. Why would Metatron want the Blade anywhere near Dean? I mean, what does he want,” Addison argues. “If we’re not willing to take a shot, then what was the point of bringing him here?”
“Unless you got a better idea,” Dean adds. Sam remains silent. Dean dials Crowley’s number. He rolls his eyes after the line is picked up. “Crowley. We need to meet ASAP.”
Dean was annoyed. He wasn’t sure what was more annoying. That it was raining or that they were standing in an alley with Crowley. Who had been quiet since they told the King of Hell what they needed. “Really, Crowley,” he says, staring at the demon. “Radio silence?”
“Say something,” Sam tells him.
“You want me to do what,” Crowley asks, looking between the trio.
Addison rolls her eyes. “We need you to bring back—”
“Bring back the Blade, Mrs. Squirrel,” Crowley interrupts. “I don’t think so.”
“You don’t have to give the thing to me,” Dean argues.
“I should say not.”
“No, no. Just retrieve it and hang onto it until we need it.”
Crowley looks at Sam. “You, Moose, you’re the sane one. You onboard with this?”
Sam stares back at him. “Yeah. I am.”
Crowley looks between the three of them once again. “Insane! You want me to procure the most dangerous weapon on the planet for Dean Winchester, the man who goes mental every time he touches it! I thought you’d wanna go for a beer, catch a film.”
“Look, if this plan works—”
“It’s not a plan. It’s a probable death sentence for me and my kind.”
“If it works, it’s better for you. Look, when the Mark is gone, the Blade can’t operate.”
“Win-win. Huh,” Dean adds with a smirk. “Win-win.”
“Stop that. It can’t operate. It’s hidden.”
“Okay, the Blade might be powered down, but the Mark is not. I’m doing everything I can to keep it together. You think the body count around me is high right now? Wait till Hal takes over.”
“Look, we figured you stashed the Blade somewhere very, very, very far away,” Addison begins.
“Damn right, Mrs. Squirrel,” Crowley replies. “It’s in a crypt with my bones.”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Okay then. Go get it.”
Crowley lets out a frustrated sigh. “I hate Guam this time of year.”
“The First Blade is back in play and Crowley is the one getting it,” Castiel disbelievingly says, walking into the Bunker. Sam and Addison were sitting at the table in the War Room. They look up at the angel, surprised. “I don’t mean to be an alarmist, but you—”
“Yeah, well, you know us,” Dean says, walking into the library with a beer. “When we fuck ourselves we like to go whole hog.”
“This would be the Crowley who let the Blade turn Dean into a demon,” Castiel asks, walking down the stairs to join them.
“I don’t have a choice, okay? I don’t do this, I’m down the rabbit hole. Hear evil, see evil, do evil. The trifecta.”
“Cas, look. Let us worry about this. You’ve got enough on your plate with Claire,” Sam tells him.
Castiel sighs. “Claire is gone.”
“Where,” Addison asks.
“I don’t know. I-I should have stopped her. But I am certain that she is destined for more trouble and disappointment. She is so…so full of rage.”
“Listen, man, if I could make it better I would,” Dean says.
“It’s actually why I’m here. I was hoping you might reach out to her,” Castiel replies, looking at Dean with a pointed look.
Dean stares. “Me?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously, I’m probably the last person she would wanna hear from.”
“Understatement,” Addison mutters. She ignores the look Dean sends her.
“I thought there would be a connection. One extremely messed up human to another, you could explain why you murdered her only friend.”
Dean scoffs. “Oh, well, yeah, when you put it like that.”
“All I know is she won’t talk to me. I thought if she understood the kind of man Randy was and the danger she was in, she might—”
“Cas, give me Claire’s number and I will talk to her,” Addison interrupts, closing her laptop and standing up. Castiel frowns. He looks between Dean and Addison. Addison rolls her eyes. “Out of all the people in this room, I’m the only one who has been a teenage girl.”
Dean shakes his head. He could see that Castiel didn’t think Addison would be the better person to talk to Claire. “What the fuck, why not,” he says and Castiel lets out a relieved breath. “Long shots seem to be the theme around here. I’m gonna go make a sandwich.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll text you her number,” Castiel tells him.
“Okay,” Dean mutters.
“I like texting. Emoticons,” Castiel explains as Dean walks out of the War Room with Addison.
Dean pulls out his phone when he feels it buzz. He sees the message from Castiel before tossing it to Addison. Addison rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone. She types in Claire’s number then hands it back to Dean. “Hi, Claire,” Addison brightly says as Dean pulls out everything needed for sandwiches. “It’s me. Addison Sloan. I was hoping we could talk in person. Just let me know where. Okay. Call me. Bye.” She shoves her phone into her back pocket. “Are you making ham or turkey?”
“Ham. Let me know when she calls,” Dean tells her. “I’ll go with you to meet her.”
“I’m pretty sure I can handle Claire on my own.”
“I know. But, Ads, I’m going with you.”
Addison stares at her best friend for a moment, then walks over to him. She lightly bumps her shoulder against his arm. “Dean, I’m fine. It was a long time ago.”
Dean looks at her. He knows that she’s fine. But at the moment, he had zero desire to let her go do anything on her own. “Ads—” His phone suddenly rings and he lets out an annoyed sigh. He pulls it out without checking the screen and answers. “Yeah.”
“Squirrel,” Crowley greets. Dean clutches his phone tightly as he watches Addison walk over to the table. “I’ve got it.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“Of course, I’m gonna hang onto it until you work out how to get that thing off your arm.”
Dean hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. “Everything okay,” Addison asks.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine,” Dean lies. “I gotta hit the head. Can you finish the sandwiches?”
“Sure. Just don’t get used to it,” Addison amusedly replies. Dean watches her for a moment, then walks out of the kitchen.
A short while later, Addison’s sitting at the table. She was eating her sandwich while Dean’s was sitting on a plate on the counter. “Ads.” She turns to see Sam and Castiel standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Where’s Dean?”
“Bathroom,” Addison answers. Her stomach drops. It had been over half an hour since Dean had left to use the bathroom. “Shit.”
Sam takes off down the hallway with Castiel right behind him. Addison catches up with them as they reach the door that leads to the dungeon. “Dean,” Sam shouts, pounding on the door. “Dean!” Sam tries the handle but finds the door locked.
“Dean,” Addison calls, banging on the door. “Dean, open the door!”
“Hey, open the door,” Sam pleads. There’s no response and he slams his shoulder against the door.
“Dean,” Addison yells as Sam starts to kick the door. “Dean, open the door.”
“Move,” Castiel orders, raising his arm. Sam and Addison move out of the way. A bright light shoots out of Castiel’s hand and destroys the door to the dungeon. They run into the room and find Dean holding an angel blade to Metatron’s chest.
“No, Dean,” Sam shouts, pulling his older brother off the angel. “Hey, stop, stop. You were killing him.”
Castiel steps forward and examines the bloodied Metatron. He looks at Sam. “I have to take him back.”
“Cas, this won’t happen again,” Sam replies.
“I gave my word. I have fences to mend in Heaven, and as it is, I have a lot to explain.”
“If you ever ask me for help again, I will choose death,” Metatron replies as Castiel starts to drag him out of the room. “You realize it’s going to get worse, Dean. You’re gonna get worse!”
Addison walks into the Bunker’s library and sees Dean sitting at one of the tables with his head in his hands. She sits down next to him and places a comforting hand on his arm. “Hey,” she softly says. “Are you okay?”
“He said the river ends at the source,” Dean replies, looking at her. He covers her hand with his.
Addison frowns. “What does that mean?”
Dean shrugs. His thumb runs over the back of her hand. “Maybe nothing. It was the last thing he said before you guys busted in.”
Sam walks into the room. “Look, man, we had to—”
“Hey, no. I get it, all right. I-I was gonna kill him. And I couldn’t stop myself.”
“It’s okay,” Addison reassures. “We’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“You know what Cas said about needing a powerful force,” Sam begins.
Dean looks at his younger brother. “Yeah, so?”
“So, I’ve been thinking. Look. Cain still has the Mark, right? And he’s lived with it. For years, he’s lived with it. So, yeah, the Mark is strong, but…Dean, maybe there’s a part of you that wants to give in to it. And maybe you have fight that, you know? Maybe…part of that powerful force has to be you.”
A silence settles over them. Sam doesn’t miss Addison’s hand is on Dean’s arm or that his older brother had his hand on hers.
The silence is suddenly broken when Addison’s phone suddenly rings. She pulls her hand away and pulls out her phone. “Hello,” she greets.
“It’s Claire,” Claire replies. “I’ve thought it over. Maybe it’s only fair to hear yours and Dean’s side of it. I mean, Castiel seemed to trust you guys, a lot.”
“Awesome. Yeah. Where do you want to meet,” Addison says, standing up. Dean watches her. “I know exactly where that is. Yeah. I will see you tomorrow morning, Claire.” She hangs up and shoves her phone in her back pocket.
“Ads,” Dean says, standing. “You’re not going alone.”
Addison stares at him. “Dean, I can handle Claire on my own.”
“I don’t care. You’re not going alone.”
Addison turns to Dean as they pull up to the lakeside campground the next morning. He parks the Impala. An old RV was in the campsite with a bench next to it. “So, you’re gonna wait here,” Addison asks, looking at him.
Dean stares at her. “You’re not doing this alone, Ads,” he tells her, then climbs out of the Impala.
Addison shakes her head as she follows suit. “Then at least let me do all the talking, okay?”
Dean holds up his hands as they sit down on the bench. “No arguments about that from me. Why do you want to do this so bad anyways?”
Neither of them are aware of the figures sneaking up on them. “No!” They turn to see Claire standing in the doorway of the RV. Dean turns and narrowly avoids being hit by a baseball bat that was being wielded by a woman.
Addison quickly moves back as Dean puts the woman in a chokehold using the bat. She sees a man running over, holding an axe in his hands. “Dean,” she shouts. Dean shoves the woman to the ground and has a brief fight with the man. He shoves the man to the ground and picks up the axe.
“No,” Claire screams, running over to them. Dean raises the axe above his head. The couple that had attempted to attack them was lying on the ground in front of him. “No! No!”
Dean swings the axe into the park bench. The couple runs off. He looks at Claire for a moment before she runs back into the RV. He walks over to Addison. She doesn’t say anything as he places a protective hand on her back and leads her to the Impala.
They start the drive back to the Bunker in silence. Addison could tell that the encounter was bothering Dean. It was bothering her too. But she wasn’t sure what to say to make him feel better. Dean suddenly pulls the Impala over to the side of the road and parks. He climbs out and walks a few feet away. Worried, she follows him. “Dean,” she softly asks. “You okay?”
Dean doesn’t look at her. He couldn’t. Because he knew he would finally give in. He would give in to the desire that he had been trying to ignore for months. The dreams that had haunted him. The dreams of when she had found him while he was a demon and hadn’t been afraid of him. But he didn’t want to hurt Sam. He didn’t want to hurt her.
“Dean?”
A soft hand touches his arm. Addison is standing in front of him. He hadn’t heard her move. He stares at her. She was worried about him. The sun made it seem like a soft glow was around her. She had left her hair down and it tumbled down her shoulders. He moves closer to her. “Fuck it,” Dean mutters, pressing his lips against hers.
Addison’s frozen for a moment before she kisses him back. She was thrilled. Maybe this was her chance to tell Dean how she felt about him. That what happened before he died was real. That she did love him. That she wanted to be with him. But she was also worried about him. He leads her over to the Impala and they climb into the backseat.
Dean pulls back and looks down at her. Her chest was heaving. He shrugs out of his jacket and outer shirt. She sits up and presses her lips against his. He pushes her canvas jacket down and it lands on the floor. She kicks off her Converse. His hands move to the top of her jeans and swiftly undoes the button and zipper. She lifts her hips and he yanks her jeans along with the simple black cotton panties she was wearing down. Dean leans back and pulls her jeans off the rest of the way, moving the clothing out of the way.
His lips are on hers as his hand finds its way between her legs. His thumb swirls around her clit. “Dean,” Addison moans. He slides a couple of fingers into her. He can feel her nails through his t-shirt and he picks up his pace. She lifts her hips, searching for her release. “Dean.” He curls his fingers and her body shudders with pleasure.
Dean pulls his hand out of her and kisses her. He unbuttons the top of her shirt to reveal the red lace bra she was wearing. Addison reaches between them and unbuttons his jeans. She shoves his jeans and boxer briefs down enough to free his erection. She wraps a hand around his cock and softly strokes. He drops his head on her shoulder. “Ads,” he groans. He grasps his cock and guides it to her entrance. He pauses. He looks down at her. She leans up and softly kisses him. He pushes into her and she softly moans.
His thrusts are slow and hard. He was going to do what he could to make this last. Because as far as Dean Winchester was concerned, this was the only thing that mattered.
Chapter 11: There's No Place Like Home
Chapter Text
“All right, well, just…just keep me posted, okay,” Sam says into his phone. He was sitting at one of the tables in the Bunker’s library. Addison was sitting across from him with her laptop in front of her. He could tell she wasn’t researching as she was biting her nails, something she only did when something was bothering her. “Yeah, you got it. Wait, Cas. You there? Hey, thanks, yeah.” He hangs up his phone. “Ads, is everything—”
Sam’s cut off when Dean walks in with a tray of food. He sets a plate down in front of Sam and Addison, who raises an eyebrow. “You made egg white omelettes,” she asks as Dean sits down next to her.
“Yeah. Breakfast of champions,” Dean answers. “You know, if you’re a dork like the two of you.”
“You also slept in.”
“Yeah, well, until we get answers on this Mark of Cain, I am on a twelve-step program not to backslide.”
Addison snorts, looking at him. “Twelve steps?”
“Yeah. Hey, if Cain found a way to live with it after going dark side, then I just got to find a way to keep it in check, so haven’t had a drink in a week, eight hours of rack time every night, and…” He motions to the plates of food. “Now this masterpiece.”
“Dean, that’s only three steps.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Shut up and eat.”
Sam takes a bite of his omelette as Addison turns her attention back to her laptop. “Wow,” he says. “That’s—that’s awesome.”
“It’s shit,” Dean replies, pushing the plate away. “Ugh. God. Soon as we get rid of this demonic tramp stamp, I am back on the booze, burgers, and…more booze. Tell me you two got something.”
“No,” Addison says, patting Dean’s shoulder as she stands up. “We’ll go to Vegas once the Mark is removed.”
“That’s why we’re best friends, Ads,” Dean says as she walks out of the library.
“Ads seem okay to you,” Sam asks once he’s sure that she isn't within hearing distance.
Dean rolls his eyes. “When I thought something was wrong with her, you said she was fine. And I was right. Because Ads was trying to avoid this cop she hooked up with and then ripped off. Dude was still pissed about it five years later.”
Sam frowns. “She didn’t tell me about that.”
“Probably because you get all judgey.”
“I don’t get judgey.”
Dean shoots him a disbelieving look. He shakes his head. “Dude, you get judgey,” he says, then walks out of the library.
“I-I don’t judgey,” Sam defends.
The trio passes the time by researching anything they could find on the Mark of Cain. Dean walks into the library with three green smoothies. He sets them down on the table, and Addison raises an eyebrow. “Seriously,” she asks, pushing the drink away.
“Yeah, I know,” Dean mutters, taking a sip of his smoothie. He grimaces and sets it down on the table.
“What the hell,” Sam lets out.
Dean and Addison exchange a look. “Cain or Crowley,” Dean questions.
“Charlie,” Sam replies. Addison stands up and walks over to him as Dean does the same.
“Is Charlie back from Oz,” Addison asks, looking at Dean.
“If she is, she didn’t call,” Dean tells her.
“Yeah, uh, she’s been busy,” Sam says, playing a video. A woman who looked identical to Charlie, but wore dark clothing, was beating up a man on a front lawn.
“What the fuck am I looking at?”
“So, you know, I was looking into the news, checking for anything weird, right? I found this story about a torture vic. Apparently, some kid videotaped this at his next-door neighbor’s house.”
Dean frowns. “What are you saying, Charlie tortured someone?” Sam remains silent. “Our Charlie? Yea high, wouldn’t hurt a Hobbit, practically sparkles?” Dean shakes his head and pulls out his phone. He dials Charlie’s number. “Come on, Charlie, pick up.”
“Who’s the guy,” Addison asks.
“Uh, Peter Harper,” Sam replies.
“She’s not answering,” Dean says.
“District attorney in Topeka. According to this article, he wasn’t the only person in town that was hit. Uh, a court stenographer was assaulted the night before.”
“Well, you know, Charlie wouldn’t go off on someone without a reason.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t think so either, but look at the video.”
“Unless Charlie’s working a job,” Addison points out. “I mean, if someone filmed us doing what we do…it would kinda look similar. Why don’t we check it out?”
“Now, did you notice anything odd before the attack,” Sam begins as they stand in the kitchen of the suburban home. They were questioning the man that Charlie had attacked. “Any, uh, strange smells, weird noises?”
“No, no, nothing,” Peter Harper answers. His arm was in a sling, and his face was bruised with a few small cuts. “I was just at home here, getting ready for bed, and that crazy bitch jumped me. All she wanted was to know about some case that I worked on years ago. Drunk driver T-boned another car, killing the driver, and the passenger was declared brain-dead on the scene.”
Dean nods. “The Middletons. They had a daughter, twelve years old. They were on their way to pick her up.”
“Yeah, that’s right. How did you know that?”
“Well, we do our homework at the FBI.”
“Okay, well, then you know the case never went to trial. Before I could even see the evidence, it was off the books. All the files were sealed.”
Addison frowns. “Why?”
“I don’t know. But I looked into it this morning. There’s no record of that case anywhere, and the arresting officer has since passed away. There’s nothing, except for this.” Peter slides a file across to them. “The social service file on the Middletons’ kid. It’s not very helpful to be honest with you. The kid has disappeared, until now.”
“Now, is there anything else you can remember about the case,” Sam questions. “Any names you can think of?”
“No. Like I told the police, it was so long ago. Look, I’m sorry.”
“Mr. Harper,” Addison softly begins. “We talked to the other victim. She told us the attacker didn’t let her go until she gave up a name. Yours.”
“Okay. But what does that have to do with me being attacked in my own home here?”
“What name did you give up,” Dean asks.
“Look, I told you everything I told the police. This woman comes in here, beats the tar out of me, but-but there’s no name to give up, so I don’t know what else to—”
Dean shoves Peter’s chair back and leans in close. “Talk, you son of a bitch!”
“Hey, look, I’m the victim, here!”
Dean glares. He starts to lean Peter’s chair back. “Talk!”
“Okay, okay. All right. All right,” Peter exclaims. Dean pulls the chair back up. “After the files were sealed…I pushed. And, uh…they offered me money. A lot of money.”
“Give me a name.”
“The money kept on coming in from overseas accounts.”
“Give me a name.”
“I will be disbarred.”
“That’ll be the least of your worries, I promise you that.”
“Councilwoman Barbara Cordry.”
The drive to the councilwoman’s house wasn’t a long one. Sam had read the file they had gotten from Peter Harper. It was a file on Charlie, who was previously known as Celeste Middleton. The house in front of them was a large one. Sam knocks on the front door. An older woman opens the door. “Barbara Cordry,” Sam asks.
“Can I help you,” Barbara coldly replies.
“Yes. I’m Special Agent Gabriel. These are my partners, Special Agents Collins and Reynolds. May we come in?”
“What’s this about?”
“We just have a few questions about a drunk driving case from a while back. It involved the Middleton family,” Addison answers.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ma’am, if we could just—” Dean begins.
“Sorry. I’m still on vacation,” Barbara interrupts. “Feel free to schedule an appointment with my assistant. She’ll pencil you three in.”
Barbara slams the door in the face. “Guilty much,” Dean mutters as they head back towards the Impala.
“Big time,” Addison agrees.
Dean takes a bite of his sandwich. “What the fuck is kale,” he asks. The trio were sitting in the Impala that night, staking out the house of local councilwoman Barbara Cordry. Light snoring gets his attention, and he glances in the backseat to find Addison asleep, leaning against the window. He rolls his eyes.
“‘Anti-authority disorder, clinical depression, violent outbursts,’” Sam reads from the file. “Charlie was, uh…”
“Dude. If a shrink interviewed us at that age, you think the report would be all kittens and rainbows? Come on. She’s a good kid. There’s got to be an explanation for this. There’s just got to be.”
Suddenly, they hear a crash and a scream coming from the house. Dean jumps out of the Impala with Sam right behind him. They run into the house to find Charlie standing over Barbara. “Should have known Rocket and Root would track me down,” Charlie greets. She was wearing dark clothing. “No Gamora?”
“Let her go,” Sam tells her.
“Who,” Charlie replies. She glances at the woman she was standing over. “Oh, her?”
“Don’t do this.”
“I just want answers.”
“Yeah,” Dean questions. “Since when do you start pounding on people for those? What the hell happened to you in Oz?”
“Everything I wanted. An adventure. Even got my own little sword,” Charlie answers, holding up a small knife.
“Charlie—” Sam begins.
“Oh, Sam, you’re adorable,” Charlie interrupts. “You’re not gonna hurt me. In fact, that’s your problem…all good guy code, no bite. What a waste. And you…” Charlie looks at Dean. “Always letting this albatross hold you back.”
“Okay, all right, you know what,” Dean replies. “I don’t know what’s going on here, okay? But this…this is not you.”
“Oh, it’s me, all right.”
“Charlie, put the knife down. Let her go. We don’t want to hurt you, kiddo, but we’re not gonna let you do this,” Dean tells her. Charlie shrugs and takes off. He runs after her. He manages to catch up with Charlie in the entryway, where she attacks him. Charlie manages to get the upper hand in the fight by getting her legs wrapped around his neck. “Stop! Shit! Sam!” Seeing that he was distracted, Charlie releases her hold on him and runs out of the house. Dean runs out of the house. He finds Addison standing by the Impala, rubbing her cheek. Charlie was driving away in a black SUV. “Charlie! Hey!”
Dean starts to climb into the Impala. “She slashed one of the tires after she punched me,” Addison tells him. “And I’m fine by the way, thanks for asking.”
“You didn’t think to stop her,” Dean disbelievingly says.
Addison shoots him an annoyed look. “No, that didn’t cross my mind at all, Dean. Of course, I tried to stop her. She punched me, hard.”
A car pulls up, and they watch as Charlie climbs out. “What’s up, bitches,” she brightly greets. Dean and Addison exchange a confused look. “Um, we should probably catch up.”
Addison rubs her face in disbelief as they sit at a table in a local bar. Dean was sitting next to her with a cup of coffee. Sam was sitting across from them, next to Charlie. “So, there’s a good you and a bad you,” Addison disbelievingly asks.
“Yeah, what, dick you is some sort of a ninja,” Dean asks.
“She is a badass, yeah,” Charlie confirms.
“Okay. Hold on. Backup,” Sam replies. “We were there for Dorothy, Oz, yellow brick road. But then…”
“War,” Charlie finishes. “The war for Emerald City. It was awesome. Until not so much. We were gonna lose, so I made a deal with the wizard…of Oz. Wears a hood and a creepy mask, kind of a jerk…good times. He said for us to win, I had to unleash my true darkness, which he meant literally. He used the inner key of Oz. It opens a door to your soul and lets the darkness out. Uh, we’re still connected physically. If you hurt her, you hurt me. But bottom line, she’s bad and I’m good. And let me just tell you, being good is really annoying. Normally in a place like this, I’d be pounding Harvey Wallbangers and checking out the bartender’s ass. Now all I want to do is sip club soda and send her to college.”
Dean nods. “Okay, uh, good, Charlie. So, why is dark Charlie gunning for revenge?”
“She’s trying to win me back. Dark Charlie won the war single-handedly. But…she did some truly awful things. But I told her I didn’t want any part of her near me again, ever. Going after the person who mur-mur…uh, who took my parents away is her messed-up way of showing me how close we are or-or could be. I keep calling her ‘she’ but she’s me. I’m the one doing this.”
“Charlie, that-that’s not who you are, okay? It’s-it’s a twisted version of—”
“Me,” Charlie finishes. “I’ve been following her so I can catch her before she does something stupid and just lock her away forever.”
“Charlie, that’s not an answer,” Addison softly says.
“Ads’ right,” Dean adds. “We’ll go back to Oz and we’ll-we’ll get the key from the wizard of douche and we’ll put you back together.”
“Even if I did want her back…” Charlie holds up half of the Oz key. The trio easily recognizes it. “Look dark me broke the key. There’s no way to get back to the wizard.”
“Okay, okay, first things first. We need to find dark Charlie before she finds the drunk driver. So, we know Barbara gave up her old bank statements, right? That means dark Charlie will probably follow the money back to whoever made the payoffs.”
“That’s what I would do.”
“All right.”
“I’ll get some refills,” Dean says, grabbing their empty glasses and walking away from the table.
Sam pulls out his laptop and sets it in front of Charlie. “We need you to hack into Barbara’s bank accounts.”
Charlie pushes the laptop back to Sam. “I can’t.”
“What?”
“It’s bad. I told you…being good is annoying.”
“What if you told Sam all the steps and he did it,” Addison suggests. “Then technically, Sam’s the bad one.”
Charlie looks between the two of them, then launches into the explanation of how someone would hack bank account records. Dean returns after a short while with their refills. “Okay, so, Barbara’s payments all came from offshore accounts,” Sam explains. “Which were routed through dummy corporations, which have all gone belly up.”
“All right, skip to the end, dragon tattoo. They all lead back to this guy,” Dean questions.
“Russell Wellington. And according to his personal records, he had a-a car that was reported stolen the-the week of the accident,” Sam replies. “A car that was never recovered. And after the supposed ‘theft’ he went on a sabbatical from work for two weeks and returned to work with bruises and a broken ankle.”
“So this is him. This is the man who, uh…” Charlie trails off.
Dean closes the laptop. “And you’re done.” He stands up. “Sam. Ads.”
“Hey, guys. Guys,” Charlie says. “Secrets are bad.”
“Charlie, I don’t think you should be anywhere around this piece-of-shit salesman,” Dean tells her. “And-and I don’t think that finding dark Charlie and locking her up is gonna work. I mean, she may be…dark, but she’s still a part of you.”
Charlie sighs. “You’re right. I hate it, but you’re right. Okay. Let’s go to the Bunker. Baum used the key to Oz. Maybe there’s something in the Men of Letters’ files about the key. If we fix it, we can get back to Oz.”
“All right, you guys dig into that. Me and Ads are gonna keep an eye on Russell and, uh, wait for dark Charlie to show up.”
Sam shifts. “Dean, maybe I should be the one—”
“No, no, no. We got it. It’s, uh, I just can’t believe we have to protect this piece of shit,” Dean replies.
“No, you've got to protect them both,” Sam reminds. “I mean, if dark Charlie gets hurt then…”
“So do I. So…be careful,” Charlie finishes.
“Got it,” Dean says. Addison shoots Charlie a soft smile before following Dean out of the bar.
Dean shifts as he and Addison sit in the Impala. She was on her iPad, researching. He was listening to a meditation tape and eating a handful of almonds. They had been waiting for Russell Wellington outside of his workplace for a while, waiting for him or Dark Charlie to show up. “Everything okay, Ads?”
Addison sets her iPad on the dashboard and scoots closer to him. “Everything’s fine. Why?”
“Sam thinks something’s going on with you,” Dean tells her. She places a hand on his inner thigh. “You should talk to him. Because you know how Sam gets.” Her fingers dance over his groin. “He’s like a dog with a bone at times.”
Addison lets out a frustrated breath and moves away from him. “Guess that answers that question,” she says, grabbing her iPad. Dean glances at her, then looks back at the building.
“The key to quieting your mind, is minding your quiet,” the meditation tape says over the Impala’s speakers. “Know and understand the lack—” Addison reaches forward and hits the eject button. The tape spits out and she tosses it into the backseat.
Dean stares at her. “It was annoying me,” Addison mutters as a car pulls into the parking lot and they see Russell Wellington walk into the building. She climbs out of the Impala and heads towards the office. Dean quickly follows her. He drapes an arm around her shoulders. “How do you want to play this?”
“The usual,” Dean replies.
The usual ended up being pretending to be a married couple. And given that Russell Wellington was a real estate agent, they were a couple who were looking for their dream house. Who also had no problem waiting all afternoon.
“Mr and Mrs Presley,” the assistant calls, looking at Dean. “Mr. Presley?”
Dean looks up from the magazine he was reading. Addison had disappeared to the bathroom. “Yes. Yeah. Hi. Uh, actually, I’m, uh, you know really into this article on, uh…” He glances at the front of the magazine. “Mammograms. Riveting stuff. If somebody else want to go…” He trails off as he looks around the now-empty waiting room. “You know, I’ll, uh, I’ll just wait for my wife. She’ll-she’ll be back.” Addison walks back into the waiting room and Dean lets out a relieved breath. “Honey, it’s our turn.”
“Oh,” Addison replies, looking around the empty room. “Oh, so it is.” She smiles at the assistant. “Well, uh, let’s do this.”
The assistant nods and leads them into the office. “Mr and Mrs Presley for you, sir.”
Russell Wellington was a man in his late fifties with a head full of grey hair. He wore an expensive suit and sat behind a glass desk. “Is that it for the day,” he questions.
“Yes, sir.”
“Okay. You can head out. Uh, I need my, uh, dry cleaning taken to the lake house, and, uh, pick up Pepper and take her to the dog groomers, okay?”
“Yes, sir,” the assistant says, then walks out of the room.
Russell turns his attention to Dean and Addison, who lightly smiles at the man. “Mr and Mrs Presley,” he greets, standing up and holding out a hand. They each shake his hand. “Russell Wellington. Please have a seat.” They sit down in the plush leather chairs in front of the desk. “So…what can you tell me about you’re looking for today?”
Dean and Addison exchange a look. “Uh, right,” Dean begins.
“How about we describe our dream home,” Addison replies with a smile.
The sun sets as Dean and Addison take turns describing a dream home to the real estate developer. “I’m not saying that we have to have a jacuzzi,” Dean says. He had taken to walking around the office. “I’m just saying that we really like bubbles.”
“Majorly like,” Addison adds.
“Uh, Mr and Mrs. Presley, look, I’m just gonna stop you right there,” Russell says, looking between the hunters. “Judging from your cheap shoes and your faded jeans, I’m guessing the only house the two of you are in the market for comes with wheels. Now, look, I’m a busy man. My time is extremely valuable. I prefer not to have it wasted by some hayseed.”
“Well, we’re willing to buy if you’re willing to sell,” Addison argues. “Can you just show us what you have available that meets our needs?”
“Well, I can show you the door,” Russell coldly tells them, picking up the phone. He starts to dial the number for the building’s security, but Dean walks over and presses the phone’s switch, cutting off the call. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the guy who’s gonna save your life,” Dean snaps, dropping all pretense.
“Excuse me?”
“Hill and Oak Street. State wagon with a man and a woman in it, on their way to pick up their little daughter from a slumber party. That ring a bell?”
“I-I-I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, no, you wouldn’t, cause you were too drunk to remember anything that night.”
“I think you have me confused with somebody else.”
“Or somebody that cares. Or maybe somebody who wouldn’t pay people off to cover up manslaughter.”
“You’re insane.” The lights suddenly go out. Addison stands up. She shares a look with Dean. “What the hell is going on?”
“Stay here. Do not leave this room,” Dean orders and walks out with Addison. He closes the office door behind him. “Ads, stay here.”
“What are you going to do,” Addison questions, pulling out the lavender blade.
“Talk,” Dean replies and walks down the hallway to the building’s main reception area.
Addison sighs. She had a feeling that it didn’t matter what Dean said to Dark Charlie. After a few minutes, Dean walks back down the hallway with Dark Charlie. She stands back as Dean opens the door and Dark Charlie walks in.
“Celeste,” Russell lets out at seeing Dark Charlie.
“No one’s called me that in a long, long time,” Dark Charlie replies.
“Uh, I am so sorry. What I did…it…I was young. I was stupid. What I took I-I can never give back to you. But what I did after the accident, that never should have happened. And I wasn’t drunk for that. I was stone-cold sober. It was selfish…and wrong. And I should pay for it. And I will pay for it.”
“You took everything from me,” Dark Charlie states.
“Please…Celeste, I am so sorry.
“Russell? I forgive you,” Dark Charlie says. Addison glances at Dean. He doesn’t look at her. The door to the office suddenly slams shut.
Dean runs over to the door and tries to open it, but only finds it locked. “Charlie,” he shouts. “Charlie! Don’t do this, Charlie!” A window smashes and Dean kicks open the door. He stops at seeing Russell with a letter opener sticking out of his chest. “Damnit!”
Addison runs a hand over her face as she leans against the Impala, which was currently parked next to a bar. She listens to the phone ringing on the other end. After taking care of the crime scene, they had made their way to a local bar. Dean hadn’t said anything and neither had Addison. She wasn’t sure there was anything she could say to make him feel better, but it didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try. “Ads, hey, hold on. I’m putting you on speaker,” Sam greets. “What happened?”
“Um…Dark Charlie got to Russell and killed him,” Addison softly says.
“Oh my god,” Good Charlie mutters.
“Charlie, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. Or Dean’s. It’s mine.”
“Charlie, it’s not your fault. This isn’t on you.”
“All right, let’s, uh, let’s try and stick to the plan,” Sam says.
“Did you find a way to fix the key,” Addison asks. “Or some other way back to Oz?”
“Maybe. Uh, look the Man of Letters who originally found the key…he’s still alive. He lives in Junction City under the name Michael Carter. I’ll text you the address. Just come meet us.”
“Okay.” Addison hangs up and makes her way inside the bar. She finds Dean sitting at the bar, a shot glass filled with whiskey in front of him. She places a comforting hand on his arm. “Sam said they have a lead. Some retired Man of Letters. They want us to meet up with them.”
Dean pulls his arm away from her. “Yeah, okay.”
“Dean, this isn’t—”
“Don’t,” Dean interrupts. “Just don’t. Okay. And you know what, we made a mistake. Stop acting like we didn’t.”
Addison stares at him for a moment, then looks away. She slides off the bar stool. “I’m gonna use the bathroom,” she coldly says. “Then I’ll be waiting outside when you’re ready to go.” She walks away, leaving him sitting alone at the bar.
After using the bathroom, Addison makes her way out of the bar. She wasn’t going to deny that she was hurt by what Dean had said. Because it did, deeply. She had no idea why he would say that. Why would he even think that what happened between them was a mistake. Addison’s so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear someone walk up behind her and hit her on the back of the head. She falls to the ground, unconscious.
Dean glances in the backseat of the minivan when he hears a groan. He wasn’t going to deny that he was angry when he found her lying on the ground, unconscious. Just like he wasn’t going to deny the anger he felt when he heard the Impala drive off. “What happened,” Addison moans, sitting up.
“Dick Charlie hot wired Baby and knocked you out,” Dean replies, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Addison climbs into the front seat. She searches her pockets for her phone. He holds it up. “Here.”
“Thanks,” Addison says, taking her phone. “Did you—”
“Yeah,” Dean interrupts. He shifts. “Look, Ads—”
“No,” Addison cuts him off. “We’re not doing this. You want to think it was a mistake. Then fine. That’s what you think.”
“And you don’t think it was a mistake,” Dean argues.
“No, I don’t.”
“Ads, I love you.”
“I love you too, Dean.”
The rest of the drive is silent. Dean’s not sure of how to respond. They reach the house and climb out of the minivan. The familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine follows shortly. They turn as Dark Charlie climbs out and walks over to them. “I figured you’d lie about where to go to next. That’s what I would do,” Dark Charlie greets.
“What the fuck do you want,” Dean demands.
“I just want to talk to her.”
“Oh, you’re not going anywhere near her. I’m not gonna let you corrupt her.”
“Corrupt her?”
“You take one more step, I’m gonna put you down.”
“Dean,” Addison warns, stepping in-between Dark Charlie and Dean. “Don’t."
“Ads, move.”
“No.”
“Yeah, Ads, move,” Dark Charlie says.
Addison glares at Dark Charlie. “Shut up.”
Dark Charlie punches Addison, catching her off guard. Dean grabs Addison by the shoulders and shoves her behind him. Dark Charlie smirks and Dean punches her in the face. She laughs. “There’s the Dean I love.”
“Dean, stop,” Addison says, running in between the two of them. She places a hand on his chest. “Dean, don’t do this.” Dean glances at her. “Don’t do this.”
“Dean, don’t do this,” Dark Charlie mocks. “You really gonna let her stop you?” Dean doesn’t move, but he keeps his gaze locked on Dark Charlie. “Wow. Ads here must have a magical pus—” Dark Charlie’s cut off when Addison suddenly punches her. Dark Charlie smirks and lands a hard punch on Addison’s face, knocking her to the ground. Dean stalks towards Dark Charlie and punches her. Dark Charlie laughs. “You hit like a girl who never learned how to hit.” Dean punches Dark Charlie once more. “That’s it, big boy. Let it all out.”
“You hurt my friend,” Dean angrily says, stalking towards Dark Charlie. He punches her. “You hurt my wife.”
“Wife,” Dark Charlie mocks. She moves to punch Dean, but he dodges it and grabs her arm. He snaps her arm and Dark Charlie falls to the ground.
Addison stands up and runs over to Dean. She places a hand on his chest and pushes him back. “Stop,” she tells him. He was breathing heavily. “It’s over.”
“Dean,” Sam shouts, running out of the house with Good Charlie in his arms. “Ads!” He sets Good Charlie on the ground next to Dark Charlie. He gives Charlie the key and steps back as Dark Charlie floats in the air before settling into Good Charlie. Sam kneels and pulls Charlie to his chest. “Charlie. Charlie. Hey. I got you. It’s okay. It’s okay.”
“Hey,” Addison greets, walking into the kitchen to find Dean making a sandwich. Charlie had left the day before and had been fully healed by Addison. Something their friend had been very grateful for. Sam had a lead on a book and Charlie had volunteered to check it out, leaving the trio to continue searching the Men of Letters’ books and archives for something on the Mark of Cain. “Are you making sandwiches?”
“No,” Dean tells her.
Addison raises an eyebrow. “You’re not making a sandwich…but have all the stuff for a sandwich out?”
Dean sets the knife down on the counter. He motions between them. “This. We’re not doing whatever the hell this, Addison.”
Confusion crosses her face. “Dean, what are you talking about?”
“You need to stop trying to be the slut that comes between me and my brother,” Dean says. Addison stares at him. He doesn’t miss the hurt in her eyes. “Fucking you was a mistake. It’s always been a mistake and has been since we were sixteen, Addison.”
Addison blinks back the tears. “Fuck you,” she whispers then walks out of the kitchen.
Dean looks down at the counter, then shoves everything off. He wants to tell her that he didn’t mean it. He wants to tell her that he loves her. That he wants to be with her. He wants to kiss her. He wants to hold her. He wants to feel her underneath him. He wants to hear the noise she makes. He wants to wake up to her soft snoring in his ear. But he can’t. He knows he can’t. Not with the Mark of Cain on his arm.
No, as long as the Mark of Cain was on his arm, he would do everything he could to push Addison away. Because he could live with her hating him, with her being angry with him. But he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he hurt her.
Chapter 12: About A Boy
Chapter Text
Addison takes a sip of tea as she sits at a table in the library. The trio had spent the past couple of weeks knee-deep in research, trying to find anything the Men of Letters might have on the Mark of Cain. “Hey,” Sam greets, walking into the library with his iPad in hand. “Something is taking people and leaving their clothes.”
“All right,” Addison says, closing the book in front of her and standing up. “I’ll go pack a bag and meet you guys at the car.”
Sam nods, shifting. “You don’t want to join me to tell Dean?”
Addison stares at him. “Does it take both of us to tell him?”
Sam lets out a frustrated breath. “No, but—”
“Good. I’ll meet you guys at the car,” Addison interrupts and starts to walk out of the library.
“Ads, what the hell is going on between you and Dean,” Sam asks.
Addison stops and looks at him. “Nothing. Why?”
“Because you’re not talking to each other. You’re ignoring each other. What the hell is going on with you two?”
“I’m only ignoring Dean because he’s ignoring me,” Addison tells him. “He’s the one who’s pretending I don’t exist. Not me. He’s the one being a giant asshole. Not me. And he needs to get over it. Not me.”
“Get over what, Ads?”
“He knows what,” Addison snaps, then walks out of the library.
Sam lets out a frustrated breath. He knew they were fighting about something. And he hated being in the middle. He knocks on the closed door before opening it to find Dean sitting on the floor with a large book in his lap. “Hey,” he greets.
“Hey,” Dean replies, not looking at him.
“Caught a case,” Sam says, holding out his iPad. “Apparently something is taking people. And leaving their clothes.”
Dean takes the iPad from his younger brother and looks over the article. “Hmm. About time this gig got an R rating.” Sam scoffs and shakes his head. “All right. Why don’t you and Ads check it out? I’ll hold down the fort.”
“Dean, you haven’t left the Bunker in a week,” Sam points out.
Dean tosses the iPad on the bed behind him. “And?”
“And you can’t just live the rest of your life locked up in this room.”
“I don’t know. I got three hots and a cot. Could be worse.”
“Look, I know you’re worried about the mark.”
“Yes, Sam, I am. Between what I did to Charlie—”
“Charlie forgave you,” Sam interrupts. “How about you forgive yourself?”
“Because I’m not exactly batting a thousand here, you know?”
“Yeah, I do know that, but staying locked up in here, sitting on the ground reading the same lore books over and over and over again, it’s not helping you. You need to get back in the game for your own good. You can beat this, Dean.”
Dean looks at him. “Do you really believe that?”
“Yeah, you’re damn right I believe that.”
“You know, you also believed in the Easter bunny till you were twelve.”
“No, I didn’t.” Dean stares at him and Sam shifts. “Look, I was eleven.”
“And a half.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “And a half. Right.” He sighs. “So?”
Dean closes the book. “Okay.”
Sam grabs his iPad off the bed. “Hey, what is going on between you and Ads?”
“Nothing,” Dean lies. “Why?”
“You’re ignoring her. She’s ignoring you. What the hell is going on between you two? And stop lying to me about it.”
“You need to stop trying to be the slut that comes between me and my brother. Fucking you was a mistake. It’s always been a mistake and has been since we were sixteen, Addison.”
“I don’t know, Sam,” Dean says, standing up. “Ads always a stick up her ass about something. And I’m done trying to figure it out.”
“So, what, you’re not friends with her anymore?”
“No. We’re not.”
“And then-then-then there was this bright light and — bam — the dude’s just gone,” the homeless man who had witnessed the disappearance of the victims outside of the dive bar, tells the trio. “Nothing left but, uh…”
“Cheap suit and a pair of florshiems,” Dean finishes.
The homeless man nods. “Pretty much.”
“Did you see anyone else,” Addison questions.
“No, ma’am, officer.”
“And what about, uh, a chill,” Dean asks. “Or did you smell any rotten eggs?”
“What? No, man. Uh…I smelled flowers, though.”
“You smelled flowers,” Sam repeats. “What kind of flowers?”
“Flowery flowers.”
Addison forces a smile. “Flowery flowers.”
“Look. We all know what’s going on here, okay?”
Dean closes his eyes. “Don’t say it,” he mutters.
“Aliens.”
“He said it.”
“Yep,” Addison mutters.
“Dude was abducted. Believe me, I know,” the homeless man says. “May 2003. Those suckers, they grabbed me, and they probed me everywhere.”
“Okay,” Addison brightly says. “Thank you for your time.”
“I’m talking everywhere,” the homeless man tells the trio as they turn and walk away. “Everywhere!”
“Well, the wheels just came flying off the bus,” Dean says as they reach the Impala.
“Yeah,” Sam confirms. “No cold spots means it probably wasn’t a ghost.”
“No sulfur means no demons, so that leaves us with what? Couple of little green dudes and a bucket of lube?”
Addison wrinkles her nose. “I hope not. Maybe fairies. Or angels.”
“Ugh. I’d rather have the little green dudes.”
“All right, me and Ads will go scope out J.P.’s place. You, uh, you ask around inside,” Sam suggests. A concerned look flashes across Dean’s face, one that neither Sam nor Addison miss. “Or you know what? Ads can stay and I’ll check out J.P.’s place.”
“No, no, no,” Dean says, shaking his head. “It’s cool. I can handle a little twenty questions with the locals, okay?”
Addison rolls her eyes and walks over to the Impala. Sam winces when the passenger door is slammed shut. Dean glares at her. Sam clears his throat. “You sure?”
“Yeah, hey, look, it’s a dive bar,” Dean replies, pulling out the keys. “It’s my comfort zone, hmm?”
Sam grabs the keys. “All right. Good. Great.” He pats Dean on the shoulder and starts towards the Impala.
“Sam,” Dean says and Sam looks at him. “Don’t leave Ads alone with Baby.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay,” he says, then walks over to the Impala as Dean walks into the bar. He starts the Impala and pulls out of the parking lot.
“Let me guess,” Addison begins. “Dean doesn’t trust me with the Impala.”
Sam sighs. “He doesn’t want me to leave you alone with the car.”
Addison smirks. “Good.”
Addison invisible lent off of her blazer as she walks out of J.P.’s apartment with Sam. They had spent the afternoon visiting J.P.’s workplace before heading to his home. She watches as Sam pulls out his phone. She knew he would be calling Dean.
“You need to stop trying to be the slut that comes between me and my brother. Fucking you was a mistake. It’s always been a mistake and has been since we were sixteen, Addison.”
Addison wouldn’t deny that she had been deeply hurt by what he had said. Because she was. So much so that she would cry in the shower. Dean ignoring her hadn’t made things any better. And she knew that if he apologized she would forgive him. She always did. But until he did, she was going to keep annoying.
Sam puts his phone on speaker as they walk down the stairs. “How we looking,” Dean greets.
“Not great,” Sam answers. “Turns out J.P. was about three days from getting evicted. His landlord said the guy blasted Neil Diamond twenty-four-seven. And that his bathroom was ‘like staring into the devil’s butt.’”
“That’s vivid.”
“And accurate. I saw it.”
“You saw the John or, uh—”
“Don’t,” Sam cuts him off.
“Sam, can I have the keys,” Addison asks, smiling up at Sam. He pulls out the keys and hands them to her. “Thank you.”
“You said you weren’t going to leave her alone with Baby,” Dean immediately points out.
“Dude, Ads isn’t going to hurt the car.” Sam rolls his eyes. “So, you got anything?”
Dean lets out a frustrated breath. “Yeah. I got, uh, jack with two scoops of squat. I don’t know, man. I think we ought to just call it a night and, uh…”
“And what? Dean? Hello?”
“Sammy, I think I got something,” Dean says, then hangs up.
Sam shakes his head and makes his way to the Impala where Addison was waiting. She holds out the keys to him. “You know, Ads, antagonizing Dean isn’t going to make things better between the two of you.”
“Things won’t be better until Dean apologizes, Sam,” Addison tells him. “Let's go pick him up so I can keep annoying him.”
Addison walks into the bar with Sam. They look around but see no sign of the older Winchester. Sam pulls out his phone and calls Dean. Addison looks around the bar. She frowns at hearing a phone ring and turns to see the bartender looking through a suit jacket. A suit jacket that Dean had been wearing earlier that day. “Hey,” Addison greets, walking up to the bartender. “Where did you get that jacket?”
The bartender looks Addison up and down. “My bar mitzvah,” he answers, walking around the counter. “It was a magical night.”
“Oh, yeah, I bet,” Addison replies, unamused. The bartender walks over to her. She grabs his arm and twists it behind his back. “How about you try that again?”
“Dumpster,” the bartender tells her, wincing. “Found it by the dumpster.” Addison releases her grip on the bartender as Sam walks over to her. She grabs Dean’s jacket off the counter and walks out of the bar. “Crazy bitch.”
“That crazy bitch just kicked your ass,” Sam coldly says, then follows after Addison. He catches up with her behind the bar where the dumpster was. Addison was shining a flashlight around the area. He walks over to her as she kneels in front of the dumpster.
Addison picks up Dean’s shoe. She frowns, seeing Dean’s gun. She grabs it and finds it covered in yellow dust. She sniffs it then stands up and turns to Sam. “Flowery flowers.”
Addison pays no attention to the bathroom door opening. She and Sam had gone back to the motel in order to do research and try to figure out what happened to Dean. Needing a break, she had taken a shower and was currently towel-drying her hair. She wore jeans and a dark red push-up bra.
“That’s new.”
Addison pauses. She turns around to see a young teenage boy standing in the doorway. She holds the towel over her chest. “Sam,” she shouts, running out of the bathroom. She motions to the bathroom. “Who the hell is that? And why didn’t you stop them from going into the bathroom?”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen your boobs before, Ads,” the teenager calls from the bathroom. Sam sighs as the toilet flushes and the teenager walks out.
Addison looks between Sam and the teenager. There was something familiar about him. “Dean?” She looks over at Sam.
“Yeah,” Sam confirms.
“How,” Addison asks, staring at Dean.
“No clue,” Dean tells them. He grabs the duffle bag filled with weapons and sets it on the bed. He grabs his gun off the table. “Some scarface looking dude, bright light. Next thing I know, I wake up looking like Bieber.”
Addison shakes her head as she walks over to her bag. She tosses the towel onto a bed and pulls on a black tank top. “Why would someone turn you into a teenager?”
“Don’t know,” Dean answers, shoving his gun in the back of his jeans. “Don’t care. Hey, we got any grenades?”
“No.”
“Ads, this isn’t the time to have a stick up your ass. Do we—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam interrupts. “Wait a second. Talk to us.”
“Really, Sam? I got no grass on the infield and a girl’s gonna die. Sorry if I’m not in a chatty mood. Look, you wanted me back in the game. I’m back in the damn game. Come on,” Dean tells them then walks out of the motel room.
Addison grabs her jacket off the bed and walks out of the motel room with Sam. “Your son is so polite,” a woman tells them.
Addison lets out a frustrated breath while Sam awkwardly smiles. “Thanks,” he tells the woman then heads over to the Impala. The trio climbs into the Impala. “Where are we heading?”
“Tell you on the way,” Dean replies, then pulls the seat forward. Addison raises an eyebrow.
“Okay, okay,” Sam quickly says after he’s squished against the dashboard. “Wait, uh, maybe I should drive?”
Dean glances at Sam to find him squished. “Yeah. Yeah.”
“Okay. Seat.” Dean doesn’t move. “Seat. Seat.” Dean pushes the seat back and Sam lets out a relieved breath.
A short while later, the Impala is speeding down the dark two-lane highway. Dean had told them what had happened to him. Addison frowns. “Why would they give you cake,” she questions. Sam shoots her a disbelieving look.
“Well, don’t know,” Dean replies. “It wasn’t even good cake. Too dry.” Sam snorts and shakes his head. “What?”
“Nothing,” Sam says. He sighs. “Okay, not nothing. Look, this is bizarre. Even for us, Dean. This is insane. You…you’re like, what, you’re like fourteen? How does it even feel?”
“Well, I’m me. I’m…I’m old me, but I’m a kid. It’s fucking weird. And…” Dean trails off.
“What?”
Dean sighs. “There was a Taylor Swift song on the bus that I hopped to the motel, and, uh, I liked it, Sam. I liked it a lot.”
“Was it Shake It Off,” Addison questions, leaning on the seat. “Or was it Blank Space? Either way, both are fun.”
Dean shoots her an annoyed look. “My voice is weird,” he continues. “And I’ve got like nine zits and I have zero control over this.” He motions to his crotch. “I mean, it’s up. It’s down. Ads in her bra caused it to stay up for like ten minutes.”
Addison lightly pats Dean’s shoulder. “I believe they call that puberty.”
“Yeah, which sucks. Again.”
“Well, listen, we checked out the alley where you got jumped and we found yarrow,” Sam says, changing the subject.
“Which means what?”
“Means we’re probably dealing with a witch. Yarrow’s a flower. They use it in a ton of spells.”
“Okay. We still got some of that witch-killing shit in the trunk.”
“Hell yeah. So, we’ll get you changed back and then light Sabrina’s ass up,” Sam tells him. Dean shifts. “Right?”
“Uh, yeah, about that. It turns out this whole freak show has an upside.” Dean pulls up his sleeve to reveal that the Mark of Cain is gone. “The Mark is gone?”
“How,” Addison questions.
“Well, I figured if this hoodoo slammed me back into the body I had when I was fourteen—”
Addison sighs. “When you didn’t have the mark.”
“Yeah and if we reverse the spell—”
“Then it’ll come back.”
“That’s what I’m thinking. So…maybe we don’t.”
“So, you’re saying you want to stay a teenager?”
“No,” Dean exclaims. Addison raises an eyebrow. “No, but…if it’s between being a psycho rage monster borderline demon or a teenager, well…”
“Really,” Sam asks.
“Look, I’m not a fan either, but…this is problem solved. And I’m still me. I can still hunt. I’m just, you know…dewier.”
“Okay, look, you have a point, kind of, but, dude—”
“I know. Some good news, though, virgin liver. So what do you say when we’re done doing our hero thing, we take her for a test drive?”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, you can drink again in, what, like seven years?”
Dean glares at him. “That’s not funny.”
“That’s kind of funny.”
“That’s not funny.”
“It’s funny,” Addison amusedly says. “You know what else is a virgin?”
“Yeah, well, Ads, you can fix that,” Dean replies.
Addison bursts out laughing. “No, no, no, no,” she laughs. “I’m not going to prison for you.”
Dean turns his glare to Addison. “That’s not funny.”
Sam laughs. “That’s kind of funny.”
Addison walks with the boys up to the house. They had a flashlight and their respective guns. “Looks like someone’s home,” Sam says, motioning to the light that was on inside the house. Smoke was rising out of a chimney.
“Okay. Let’s go through the basement,” Dean tells them. “Get Tina out first.”
Silence settles over the trio as Dean leads them around the house. Neither Addison nor Sam miss the yarrow flowers that were growing in the yard. They reach the window.
Dean kneels in front of the window. “Still open,” he tells them, then lifts the window. “Tina?” There’s no response. “All right, let’s go.”
“Dean, I’m way too big to fit in that,” Sam says, motioning to the window with bars on it.
Dean smirks. “First time you ever had to say that, huh?”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Big talk coming from the dude wearing underoos.”
“Okay, good one. Here, why don’t you go around back for another way in?”
“Yeah,” Sam mutters, walking away from them.
Dean easily crawls through the window. Addison takes a deep breath and squeezes through the bars. She coughs, placing a hand on her chest. “My boobs are too big to do things like that,” she mutters.
Dean shifts. “Yeah, maybe you should’ve gone with Sam.”
Addison shines her flashlight around the room. A cot was in a corner. Along with a dresser with a partly eaten piece of cake sitting on it. She walks over to the door and opens it. They quietly slip out of the room. Dean looks into another room and finds an uneaten piece of cake. Addison moves further into the basement. She pushes a bucket to the side and sighs at seeing a human skull. It had been there for a while given that it was covered in cobwebs.
Dean turns at feeling someone watching him. No one was there. Addison makes her way over to Dean when a large figure attacks her. An arm is wrapped around her neck. She elbows the man in the stomach and he loosens his grip on her. Sam appears and hits the man on the back of the head with his gun.
The trio aim their guns at the man. He wore a newspaper hat and older clothes. “Don’t,” Sam coldly says as the man slowly stands up.
“Where’s the girl,” Dean demands.
“Upstairs. Alive,” the man answers.
“What did you do to us?”
“Nothing. I’m no witch. I just work for one.”
“Crappy gig,” Sam comments. “Where is he?”
“She. And she is the worst person in the world.”
“Is that so,” Dean questions.
“I’ve been with her for centuries. Things I’ve seen her do. My sister and I…she made us hurt people, kill people, and when we tried to escape, she caught us and tortured me…and then she made me eat poor Gretel’s heart.”
“Wait,” Addison says, exchanging a look with Sam. “Gretel? Are you…you’re saying that you’re—”
“Hansel. My name is Hansel.”
“Fuck me,” Addison mutters, shaking her head. “Hansel and Gretel. Like the fable. Or like the Brothers Grimm story?”
“It wasn’t a fable. It was based on a true story. They just gave it a happy ending,” Hansel explains, standing up.
“Oh, okay. We get to barbecue a celebrity. Cool,” Dean comments.
“You can’t kill her. You’re just men.”
“We’re more than that,” Sam argues, holding up a Molotov cocktail. “We’re hunters.”
“Ah. Then let me help.”
The trio exchange a look. “Help,” Addison questions. “Why? What’s in it for you?”
“Because if you’re going to fry that candy-coated bitch, I want in.”
“You want to help? Then tell us how to turn him back,” Addison counters, motioning to Dean.
“Ads, it can wait.”
“Tell us how,” Addison demands, ignoring Dean.
Hansel lifts the hex bag around his neck. “The hex bag that I’m wearing. It will reverse the spell. Squeeze it and you’ll return to your proper age.” Addison glances at Sam and Dean, then lowers her gun. “Look, we waste the witch, I give you the cure. Deal?”
“Deal,” Sam says.
Hansel leads the trio up to the kitchen. An older woman with very messy hair and wearing old clothing was shoving wood into an oven. “Hansel,” the woman greets. The trio steps out from behind Hansel.
“And pals,” Dean greets as they pull out their guns.
“Well, our lost lamb. I thought we’d have to go looking for you. Maybe even abandon our home sweet home here. I never dreamt you’d be stupid enough to come back on your own,” the witch says, then chuckles. “Hansel, take care of them.”
Hansel makes no movement. “Yeah, he’s not exactly your biggest fan,” Dean says, holding up a Molotov cocktail.
“You probably shouldn’t have made him eat his sister,” Addison adds.
“I never made Hansel do anything,” the witch argues.
Dean shoots the witch a confused look. Then Hansel swiftly grabs Sam’s gun from him and knocks him to the ground. “They’re hunters,” Hansel shouts. Dean struggles to get his lighter on. Addison aims her gun at the witch and it flies out of her hands. Dean gets his lighter lit, but the Molotov cocktail flies out of his hand and smashes into the wall.
The witch looks between the trio. “Now, who’s hungry?”
Hansel aims the gun at Dean and Addison. They kneel on the ground next to Sam and put their hands up. “Don’t move.”
The witch walks over to Dean and grabs his arm. “Oh, scrawny. We’ll have to fatten you up.”
Dean yanks his arm out of her grasp. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than that,” the witch replies, grabbing his jaw. “Children. Oh, they’re so sweet and innocent. And delicious. You’ll see.” The witch releases her grip on Dean and walks over to the table. “When I cook him up, I’ll give you some, hmm?”
“If you like kids so much, why not go after kids,” Sam questions. “What’s with this whole fountain of youth?”
“Hmm, in the olden days, if a child went missing, the young died all the time. Now, though, with all your AMBER alerts and your milk cartons, a person fillets one rugrat and people get so angry.”
“Yeah, I blame Obama,” Dean mutters. He’s met with two incredulous looks from Sam and Addison. He shrugs in response.
“So, I improvise,” the witch continues. “I take adults no one will miss and give them back their youth.”
“And then Kentucky-fry ‘em.”
“It’s the only way I can eat in peace.”
Dean notices Sam slowly reaching for the pocketknife he knew his younger brother kept in his back pocket. “So, uh, is it worth it,” Dean questions. “I mean, word on the street is people kind of taste like chicken.”
“A bit. European children are more, uh, free range. Gamier. Americans thought…they are heaven. Fattier. The meat, so finely marbles, it’s almost buttery. I just can’t get enough.”
A disgusted look crosses Addison’s face. She rolls her eyes. “Sounds so awesome,” she mutters.
“No! I am in awe. This is my first visit to your country. And I have to say God Bless the U.S.A.”
“Oh, so, you’re a tourist,” Dean states.
“No. It’s business, not pleasure. An old friend is causing trouble and the Grand Coven asked me to take care of her. Poor, stupid Rowena.”
The hunters pause at that. “Wait, Rowena,” Dean questions. “She got red hair, a thing for ritzy hotels?”
The witch sets the knife she was using to chop vegetables on the table. “How do you know that?”
Sam suddenly jumps up and punches Hansel. While the boys are dealing with Hansel, Addison turns her attention to the witch. She punches the witch, knocking the woman back. The witch waves a hand and sends Addison flying into a wall. Addison sits up as Sam lands on the ground next to her. Dean, who was on the ground with Hansel punching him, is tossed against the fridge. Hansel had a hand wrapped around his neck.
“Now, you’ll burn,” the witch declares.
Hansel punches Dean before releasing him. Dean slides down the fridge. “Stay down, boy,” Hansel orders.
“Turn him,” the witch orders.
Hansel reaches for the hex bag around his neck, only to find that it’s gone. “The hell?” Dean smirks, holding up the hex bag he managed to grab. He squeezes the hex bag and instantly changes back into an adult. He jumps up and grabs a knife from the table. Dean stabs Hansel in the chest, then turns his attention to the witch. Addison and Sam watch as Dean shoves the hex bag into the witch’s mouth before shoving her into the large oven. He closes and locks the door as the witch screams.
Sam shifts as he sits in his usual seat in the Impala. The moment the bus had pulled out of the bus station with a still teenage Tina on it, Addison had vanished, leaving the brothers alone. It was clear that unless it had to do with a case, she had zero desire to be around Dean. Which Sam was going to use to his advantage and find out what exactly was going on between the two of them. “So…Grand Coven,” Dean begins, breaking the silence that had settled over them. “Any ideas?”
“Doesn’t sound good,” Sam replies.
“Well, sounds like an eighties hair metal band. You know, lot of hair spray, lot of eye shadow, lot of keytar.” Sam stares at him. “No? Nothing? Come on, man. I’m painting a word picture here.”
“Is it back?”
Dean sighs. “Look, I know what you’re going to say, okay? But you were in deep.”
“I know. I know,” Sam tells him. “You saved me and you saved Tina and…pulled a Dean Winchester. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
“Look, man…do I wish the Mark was gone? Yes, of course. Absolutely, I do, but…I wanted you back. And now where you are and you didn’t Hulk out so…I’ll take the win. As for the rest of it. The Mark, everything else…we’ll figure it out. We always do.”
“Damn right.”
“Dude, what exactly happened between you and Ads,” Sam questions, looking at his older brother.
Dean tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Sam, stay out of it.”
“What? No! You’re my brother and Ads—”
“Sam, for once, just listen to me and stay out of it.”
“Dean—”
“Goddamnit, Sam, stay out of it,” Dean snaps, shooting his younger brother a hard look. Sam stares back at him for a moment, then shakes his head and looks out at the dark scenery.
Chapter 13: Halt & Catch Fire
Chapter Text
Addison looks up when she hears footsteps. Her duffle bag was sitting on the table next to her messenger bag. She had been doing everything she could to avoid being around Dean. She spent the majority of her time in her room, watching Netflix. Dean was doing what he could be avoid being around her. And Sam was caught in the middle.
“A croissokie,” Dean says, walking into the library with Sam. He glances at Addison then turns his attention back to his younger brother.
“A croissokie,” Sam disbelievingly repeats.
“Mmhmm. Yeah, they’re the new cronuts.”
“Okay. So what? Half cookie, half—”
“Who gives a fuck,” Dean interrupts, sitting down at the table furthest from Addison. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam. “They’re fuckin’ awesome. What did Cas say?”
“Uh, good news, bad news,” Sam replies, pulling his phone out. “Bad news. He discovered riverboat gambling. Good news. He thinks he might be closing in on Cain.”
“Oh wow. He thinks he might be.”
“Yeah. Just east of the Mississippi somewhere in Illinois.”
“So maybe Cas finds Cain in the land of Lincoln. And then what?”
“And then we get him to tell us how to get rid of the Mark.”
“Don’t you think that if Cain knew how to remove the Mark, he would have done it, like centuries ago?”
“We don’t know til we try.”
“Sammy, I appreciate the effort, man. I do. But trying to find a cure for this thing…it-it’s like a dog chasing its tail. There’s no end in sight and you just end up dizzy.”
Sam lets out a frustrated breath. He disagreed with Dean but didn’t want to get drawn into an argument. He notices Addison’s bag sitting on the bag. “What’s with the bag, Ads,” he questions.
“Uh, I found a case,” Addison answers, standing up. She closes her laptop and shoves it into her messenger bag. “Sorority girl in Iowa says a possessed pickup killed her friend that was driving it.”
“And you were just gonna go do this case without us,” Dean asks, staring at her with a hard look.
Addison meets his gaze with her own hard look. “Yeah. I am.”
Dean shakes his head. “Yeah, no, you’re not doing this alone.”
“You’re not the not the boss of me, Dean,” Addison argues.
“The last time you went up against a ghost alone, you got thrown into a tombstone and got knocked. I had to save your ass,” Dean counters. “So, you’re not going alone.”
Sam watches Dean walk out of the library. “At least he’s not ignoring you,” he says, turning to Addison. She rolls her eyes and grabs her bags before walking out of the library. Sam lets out a frustrated breath. “This is gonna be fun.”
Addison shakes her head as she sees Dean check out a couple of girls who walk past them. “Sorry I ever made you leave,” Dean mutters to Sam. Sam shoots his older brother a disbelieving look as they walk into the college building. Two more girls walk past them. “God, they’re everywhere.”
Addison clears her throat as she walks up to two girls. “Hi, which one of you is Janet Novoselic,” she questions.
“I am,” Janet replies, looking between the trio.
Addison holds up her FBI badge. “Agent Wilson. These are Agents Grohl and Cobain.”
“I already talked to the police like nine times.”
“This is just a quick follow-up.”
“I have finals tomorrow.”
Sam shoots her a soft smile. “Then we’ll make it fast. I promise.”
“Fine,” Janet mutters, leading them over to a corner where a couple of couches were. They sit down, the trio on one couch while Janet sits across from them. “It’s like I told the detective. I was drunk, but I wasn’t hallucinating. The truth had a mind of its own.”
“How so,” Dean questions, turning his attention to the girl in front of them.
“Like, the air went full blast even though it wasn’t on and the radio went crazy and so did Trini.”
“And Trini is?”
Sam smirks. “Ah, you have to excuse my partner. When it comes to technology, he’s a little behind. Uh, he just learned how to poke on Facebook.”
“Uh, um, Trini is the nav app we were using,” Janet explains. “It-it’s like a talking map.” Dean just stares. “You’re Gen X. Right.”
“Okay, so, Trini and everything else in the truck went all Christine,” Dean replies.
Janet frowns. “Who’s Christine?”
“It’s a Gen X thing.”
“Look, I don’t expect you to believe me. But, I swear that truck was hell-bent on killing Billy.”
“Did Billy have any enemies,” Addison questions. “Or anybody that may have wanted to hurt him.”
“Maybe his brother Jay. They fought all the time. It’s so sad. They never got to set it right.”
“Because Billy died?”
“No. Joey did. In Afghanistan.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know where he’s buried, would you?”
“He’s not. Poor guy never came home. I.E.D.”
“Did Billy happen to have anything of his brother’s on him when he died? Uh, dog tag, a hat, something,” Dean asks.
“Just his pickup.”
“So the truck belonged to Joey,” Sam questions.
“Yeah. It was his pride and joy. Billy got it when he died, and, you know, it’s a thing,” Janet explains.
Dean nods. He understood. “Yeah.”
Janet’s phone rights. “Excuse me,” she tells them before standing up and walking away.
“So, what’s a thing,” Sam asks.
“You know, the truck thing,” Dean replies as they stand up. Sam shakes his head. “You honor the deceased by driving their truck. Sam, they wrote a whole country song about it. Why don’t you Google it?”
It hadn’t been hard to find the impound lot where Billy’s truck was stowed. Or to break into the lot. Sam shifts as he walks with Dean and Addison through the lot. He wanted them to stop fighting. He was tired of being in the middle. “Alright, so we’re looking for something that used to resemble a pickup truck,” he says, shining his flashlight around the impound lot.
“Something like this,” Addison replies, shining her flashlight on a pickup that had been in an accident.
They walk over to the pickup. “Yeah, marine,” Dean confirms, seeing the semper fi on the license plate.
“I’m guessing this ain’t oil,” Sam says, seeing the goo on the pickup.
Addison touches the goo and sniffs it. “Oh yeah. Ectoplasm.”
Sam holds up the EMF meter, which was going off. “Look at this. Joey?”
Dean shrugs. “Looks like it.”
“Yeah.”
“Alright, so big brother didn’t get along with little brother, was pissed that he was driving his baby. I get it.”
“What are you saying? If you died and I drove your car, you’d kill me?”
“If you stunk her up with taquitos, probably.”
Addison smirks. “What if you died and Sam died and I drove it?”
Dean stares at her with a hard look. “Not happening.”
“Except you wouldn’t be able to stop me if you’re dead and Sam’s dead.”
“You’re not driving my car.”
“The first time you died, Sam did let me drive the Impala.”
Dean looks at his younger brother with a look of betrayal. “You let Addison drive my car?”
“I don’t know why you’re fighting about this,” Sam counters, pouring salt over the pickup. Dean narrows his gaze. Addison can’t keep the amused look off her face.
“Delilah Marian, the roommate, found her this morning after an all-nighter at the library,” the detective tells them as she leads the trio into the bedroom of the sorority house. Another bizarre death had prevented the trio from leaving town that morning.
“Strangulation,” Sam questions.
“Sicko used the power cord from the computer,” the detective answers.
“Any suspects,” Addison asks.
“None yet. The odd thing was the door was locked.”
“Have you talked to any of the other girls who live here,” Sam asks.
“Well, most of them have already left for spring break. But the roommate was really helpful. She gave us all of Julie’s passwords. And nowadays, the only way to find out anything about teenagers is through social media. Trust me, I got two of them.” A uniformed officer waves for the detective. “Excuse me, agents.”
Sam smiles as the detective walks out of the bedroom. “Oh, yeah, sure.”
“Vengeful spirit, much,” Dean says.
“Yeah, but is it Joey’s or another ghost?”
“I don’t know,” Dean replies. He waves the EMF over the desk. As it passes over the laptop, it lights up. “So first it possesses a-a truck and then it possesses a computer? Both machine-related kills.”
“Ghost in the machine situation,” Addison questions.
Dean frowns. “Maybe. But if it is the same ghost, I mean, they usually anchor themselves to a place or a thing. How is this one jumping from one machine to the next?”
Sam shrugs and grabs the laptop. The trio walks out of the bedroom. A short while later, they managed to find the roommate. “We really appreciate your help, Delilah,” Sam tells the sorority girl. “We know this can’t possibly be easy. Did Julie, by chance, know a student named Bill Bass?”
“Everyone knew Billy,” Delilah answers. “He was the President of Sigma Theta Delta.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “STD?”
“Yeah. It’s the biggest frat on campus.”
“Did, uh, did Julie know Billy’s brother Joey, the soldier?”
“I don’t think so. I didn’t even Billy had a brother.”
“Did Juliet have any enemies,” Addison softly questions. “Or was there anyone that might have wanted to hurt her?”
Delilah shakes her head. “No. Julie was really popular, super sweet. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.”
“You know we’re federal agents, right,” Dean says with a pointed look. “Lying to us is a big-time offense.”
“I’m not lying, Agent. There’s just…nothing else to tell,” Delilah replies, looking between the trio.
Addison rolls her eyes as she sees Dean grabbing more food. They were sitting in the cafeteria of the college. “So, I was thinking that after this case I would go help Winston with a case,” Addison says, picking up a French fry off the plate in front of her. While Dean had decided to grab a large quantity of food, she had decided to grab a small snack. Sam had chosen to focus on searching Julie’s laptop.
“What kind of case,” Sam replies, glancing at her.
“Ghoul thing down in Arizona,” Addison answers. “Winston sent me a text this morning, asking if I would help him out. Maybe I’ll head down early. I mean, you guys don’t need me.”
“Ads, the only reason you’re even considering doing this job with Winston is because it would annoy Dean,” Sam points out. “Maybe you should apologize to Dean and things can go back to normal.”
Addison narrows her gaze. “What would I need to apologize for?”
Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. You and Dean keep telling me to stay out of your fight. But, Ads, he’s been ignoring you unless it has to do with a case. He would only do that if you pissed him off for something and you’re stubborn…Just apologize.”
“Alright,” Dean says, walking over to them. He sets a tray covered in a variety of food down the table. He hands Sam a cup of coffee. “A cafe au last for the lady. And for me—”
“A heart attack,” Sam interrupts.
“This is unreal. Look at this. I got Italian. I got Chinese. Serve yourself froyo. College is better than Vegas. What do you got?”
“Unfortunately, a lot of nada. I-I…” Sam trails off as he notices noodles hanging out of Dean’s mouth. A disgusted look was on Addison’s face. “I hit up Julie’s Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Instachat, Snapchat, A.I.M., nothing but posts on Rush and Fifty Shades of Grey, the movie, not the book.”
“Yeah. I didn’t get half of that.”
“It doesn’t matter. Now I’m going through her deleted files.”
Dean frowns. “You can do that?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmmm.”
“I mean, nothing ever really gets deleted from the Internet. You knew that, right?”
Dean nods. “Yeah.”
“Alright. Here we go. This might be something. It’s a, uh, it’s a deleted Instachat from last night right around time of death.”
“Who was she talking to,” Addison question.
“With PrincessElsa8. Look at this,” Sam says, turning the laptop to face them.
“‘Liar. I know. You’ll pay,’” Dean reads. “Well, this Princess Elsa’s a bitch. What’s 810?”
Sam frowns. “810?”
“Yeah.”
“Uh, it’s a…I don’t know. Maybe it’s a date.”
“Maybe it’s a time of day. Or an area code.”
“It’s an area code for southeast Michigan,” Addison says, holding up her phone. “But there are three addresses in Spencer that have 810 in them.”
Dean nods. “I’ll see if I can get this to go.”
Addison shakes her head and stands up. “Yeah, you do that,” she mutters, then grabs her tray and walks away from the brothers.
Sam shifts, closing the laptop. “I told her to apologize,” he says.
Dean frowns. “What does Ads need to apologize to me for?”
“For whatever she did to piss you off. I mean, why else would you be ignoring her,” Sam replies.
Dean stands up. “Sam, stay out of it.”
“Yeah, but I’m tired of being in the middle of your fight,” Sam counters, standing up.
“Yeah, you got it,” Sam says as Dean parks the Impala along a very suburban street. “Thank you, Detective Petranzyk. We will keep in touch.” He hangs up and shoves his phone in his pocket. “So, PrincessElsa8 is not some crazed cyber killer. She is a third grader from Lake Nebagamon, Wisconsin, who is obsessed with Frozen. And she was fast asleep when the Instachat occurred.”
“So, a hack job,” Dean reasons.
“That’s what I’m thinking.”
“Hey,” Addison says, motioning to a woman walking across the street. The woman heads over to a utility pole and starts picking up the flowers that were on the ground.
The trio climbs out of the Impala and walks over to the woman. “Excuse me, ma’am,” Sam begins, flashing his badge. “May we, uh, ask what you’re doing?”
“Um, throwing away dead flowers. Is that a crime,” the woman tells them.
“Well, it’s not a crime, just a little strange, uh, seeing as how they aren’t dead,” Dean points out.
“It’s not so strange when it feels like they’re taunting you. My husband was killed in a car accident here nine months ago.”
“I’m so sorry,” Addison softly says.
“Our condolences,” Dean adds.
“Thank you,” the woman replies. “We were newlyweds. Never even made it to our first anniversary. And to have to be reminded of that every time I look out my window or leave the house…”
“Understandable.”
“Forgive me,” Sam begins. “But did you notice anything…weird after your husband’s death? Any strange disturbances or…”
The woman frowns. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
Sam shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”
“Any idea who might be the leaving flowers,” Addison questions.
The woman shrugs. “Some girl. I think she goes to the college causes she’s always in Greek letters.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know her name, would you?”
“No. Uh, she has long red hair.”
Addison shakes her head in disbelief as she sits at a table in a local cafe. Sam was sitting next to her while he was researching. Dean sits down across from her with numerous baked goods. He pulls out his phone and dials a number. “This is Agent Grohl again. Listen, I know I told you to call at your earliest convenience but scratch that. Call ASAP.”
“Look at this,” Sam says, turning his laptop to face them. “Uh, Andrew Silver, twenty-nine-year-old Spencer High School teacher killed in a fatal accident. Uh, car burst into flames. Silver’s body was burned beyond recognition. And he is believed to have been killed upon impact.”
“Okay. So Andy the angry ghost…he dies at 810 Downs Drive. And then he torments Juliet with 810 on her computer. So, what’s his beef with her,” Dean replies.
“Yeah and what’s his connection to Billy?”
“Where’s he buried,” Addison asks.
“He wasn’t. He was cremated.”
“Awesome. So, we have no bones and if he’s tethered to anything, we don’t know what is.”
“Yeah. How is Andrew haunting his victims?” Sam frowns as he finally notices the food in front of Dean. “Are you gonna eat all that?”
“Yeah,” Dean replies. “You want some?”
Addison walks with Dean through the sorority house. Another death, this time at the frat house down the road, and a frantic phone call from Delilah had led the trio back to the college campus. Sam had pointedly chosen to check on Delilah, leaving Addison and Dean to work together alone. Though they had only spoken to each other when it came to the job. “Hey,” Sam greets as they walk into Delilah’s bedroom. “What do you got?”
“Death by by decibel,” Dean answers.
Sam frowns. “What?”
“Kyle’s brains were jellied by his speakers,” Addison clarifies. “And the clock on his stereo stopped at 8:10.”
“8:10?”
“Yep.”
“Again?”
“Look, we know you’re the one leaving the flowers,” Dean says, looking at Delilah. “So, why don’t you just tell us what happened the night of Andrew Silver’s accident?”
Delilah looks between the trio. Addison steps forward. “Delilah, this is the third death in five days. We need to know what happened. We need to know who else Andrew Silver would go after.”
“Me,” Delilah softly confesses. “The car accident…wasn’t exactly an accident.” Delilah launches into the story of the accident. How all the students were on their phones when the accident occurred. How all the students had left Andrew Silver to die in his car after it caught on fire. “I shouldn’t have let them talk me out of it. It was wrong. And now we’re being punished.”
Addison shakes her head as Sam digs into a duffle bag and pulls out a couple of canisters of salt. Sam tosses one to Dean before pouring a salt circle around the chair Delilah was sitting in. Dean takes to pouring a line of salt in front of the door.
“Seriously, what are the chances that three out of the four of us died in one week,” Delilah continues. “It can’t be a coincidence.”
“It’s not a coincidence,” Addison confirms. “It’s a ghost.”
“It’s the vengeful spirit of Andrew Silver,” Dean adds.
Delilah frowns. “A ghost?”
“Yep,” Addison replies. “Ghosts are real.”
Dean smirks. “Yeah, it’s sort of what we do.”
“So, you’re like…Ghostbusters?”
“Sure. First things firsts, though. You need to stay inside the salt circle while we take care of him, okay?”
“How do you take care of him? Please tell me you know how to take care of him.”
Sam sighs. “Usually a ghost is tied to a place or an object. You get rid of the object, you get rid of the ghost. But with Andrew, it’s, uh, it’s different.”
“What’s he tied to?”
“We’re working on it,” Dean replies.
“If we figure out how he’s getting around, then we stop him,” Addison tells her.
“You know, this might be a Shocker situation,” Dean says, looking between Sam and Addison. “The paper said that he died from a collision, but Delilah says that he died from electrocution. So maybe that’s how he’s surfing. He’s using the power lines as a conduit.”
“That makes sense with the laptop and stereo, but not with the pickup,” Addison counters.
“Alright, it's got to be something else then.”
“Alright,” Sam quickly says, sensing that an argument between the two could be brewing. “Uh, I’ll go back to the accident site, check it out. You two—”
“I’ll join you,” Addison quickly interrupts. “Two sets of eyes are better than one.” She walks out of the room. Sam lets out a frustrated breath. He looks at Dean, who just shrugs.
The ride to the accident site is a quiet one. Addison knew what Sam was doing and she growing annoyed with it. Sam parks the Impala at the accident site and they climb out. Flashlights shine over the scene. “Ads,” Sam says, shining his flashlight at the top of the utility pole. His flashlight shines over the lines to a tower across the road.
“That’s a new one,” Addison replies. She watches as Sam pulls out his phone. She didn’t need to guess who he was calling.
“Hey, what do you got,” Dean answers.
“Dean, Andrew’s not using power lines to move,” Sam tells him. “He’s using Wi-Fi.”
“Come again?”
“The-the wires that electrocuted Andrew, they-they feed directly into a Wi-Fi tower right across the street.”
“So even ghosts are online?”
“Apparently,” Addison says. “It explains the truck. Billy’s cell must’ve been using the local Wi-Fi, so Andrew’s ghost must’ve used the nav app.”
“And then Julie’s death by computer, Kyle’s weather by stereo with the wireless speakers.”
“I mean, it makes sense, Dean,” Sam continues. “We’re all just a bunch of electrical impulses, right? So whenever Andrew died, his impulses just transferred to another current. You got to get Delilah somewhere safe. Turn off all the routers in that sorority.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure, Sammy. We’ll just kill the internet,” Dean mocks. Addison shakes her head and looks around the street. The Silver’s house was across the street from them. “Wait, can we?”
“Uh, no,” Sam answers. “No, not really.”
“Alright, so then how the hell are we gonna deal with the lawnmower man?”
“I have an idea,” Addison says, then jogs towards the house.
“Ads,” Sam calls, but she ignores him. “Do what I said. Stay safe. I’ll call you back.” He doesn’t wait for a response before hanging up. He catches up to Addison as she reaches the front door. “Ads—”
Addison knocks on the door and it opens to reveal Mrs. Silver. She softly smiles. “Mrs. Silver, I’m sorry to bother you. This-this is gonna to sound strange—”
“It’s my husband, isn’t it,” Mrs. Silver interrupts. “Come in.” They follow Mrs. Silver into her home. She leads them into the living room and they sit down on the couches. “It wasn’t too long after the accident that Andrew started contacting me.”
“How was he contacting you,” Addison questions.
“Online. At first, I thought it was a joke, that someone was playing a cruel joke on a grieving widow. But Andrew knew things…things that only he and I would know…inside jokes, the code to our alarm, my obsession with Lifetime movies. It was then that I knew I had my husband back, even if it was just online.”
“Did you never think to ask him what he was,” Sam asks.
Mrs. Silver scoffs. “Come on, Agent. I’ve read the books. I’ve seen the movies. I knew he was a ghost or something but…I didn’t care. He was my husband. And…it was great. Romantic, even. He’d send me love notes. We’d stay up all night reminiscing. But then…he started acting strange.”
Addison frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. He’d just disappear, radio silence. And then, out of nowhere, he’d start emailing again. But he was different, focused?”
“Focused on what?”
“Revenge. When the kids at the college started dying, I thought it might be Andrew. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops and tell them the ghost of my dead husband was picking off co-eds? But mostly, I just didn’t want to face the truth. Because I knew it was revenge that brought him back and if I tried to stop him, that might go away. And I didn’t want to lose my husband again.”
Addison leans forward and grabs Mrs. Silver’s hand. “Mrs. Silver, I get it,” she softly says. “Believe me, I do. Because I’ve been there. He-He’s your best friend. And you just wanted him back. But…he’s killed three people. And he needs to stop. He might not stop with just getting revenge.”
Mrs. Silver wipes away her tears. “I know.”
Addison pulls out her phone. She finds Dean’s number and hits the button to FaceTime him. She hands the phone to Mrs. Silver. “Talk to your husband. He’ll listen to you.”
Mrs. Silver takes Addison’s phone. After a moment, it’s answered and Delilah is on the screen. “I need to talk to my husband,” she tearfully says. She takes a deep breath as Delilah turns the screen to face the ghost of Andrew, who was fighting Dean. “Andrew? It’s Corey. Please listen to me. You have to stop this. Revenge…it’s hollow. And it’s pointless. It won’t bring you back. I should have said this earlier. But…I couldn’t let go. But it’s time…for me to let go and for you to do the same. Please. I’m begging you. Do this for me. Do it for us. Goodbye.”
The living room is silent for a few minutes before Mrs. Silver hands Addison her phone back. “Dean, everything okay,” she asks.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” Dean answers, appearing on the screen.
Addison hangs up. She shoots Mrs. Silver a sad smile before walking out of the house. Sam nods and follows after Addison. “Ads,” he calls, jogging to catch up with Addison. He grabs her arm. “Hey, Ads, maybe if you—”
“Sam, stop,” Addison snaps, glaring at him. She yanks her arm out of his grasp. He doesn’t miss the unshed tears in her gaze. “Just stop. Okay. I have nothing to apologize for.”
“Then at least tell me how I can help fix things between you and Dean,” Sam argues.
Addison shakes her head. “Sam, you can’t fix this. And you just need to stop. Okay. Just stay out of it.”
“Addison—”
“Sam, why do you care so much about this,” Addison angrily asks. A tear slips out and she hastily wipes it away.
“Because you and Dean are my family,” Sam answers, moving closer to her. “Because you’re both in pain and-and I need you to help me find a way to get the Mark off of Dean.”
Addison stares at him, then shakes her head. “We slept together,” she softly says. “We-we-we slept together and then…He calls me a slut. That I’m just the slut who keeps coming between you two.” She humorlessly chuckles. “Which is really fucked up because Dean was ready to kick a sheriff’s ass when he called me a whore.” She shakes her head. “The worst part is that he said fucking me was a mistake.” Addison looks up at Sam and finds an apologetic look on her face. “Sam, there’s nothing that you can do to fix this.”
Addison turns and starts to walk down the dark street. Sam quickly follows her. He grabs her arm and pulls her into a tight embrace. She stands there for a moment, then hugs him back.
Chapter 14: The Executioner's Song
Chapter Text
“Ads told me what your fight is about,” Sam says as the Impala spends down the two-lane highway towards the prison in rural Texas. An inmate who vanished from a maximum security cell had caught their attention. Given that their case involved a prison, Addison had refused to join them and Sam was going to use the opportunity to talk to his older brother.
Dean sighs. “Look, man, I don’t want to hear about how I helped ruin your relationship with—”
“What are you talking about,” Sam interrupts, confused.
“You and Ads. We-we slept together. I know you guys were taking space or whatever. But still, man, I-I shouldn’t—”
“Dean, Ads broke up with me last summer,” Sam tells him. “I told you that.”
“Yeah, but you guys got back together.”
“No, we didn’t.”
Dean pauses. This was news to him. “What?”
“Yeah, we didn’t get back together. I wanted to. I tried. Ads didn’t want to. We had a-a argument about it.”
“You guys had a fight about breaking up?”
“Yeah. Yeah, uh, I wanted to know why.”
Dean glances at him. “Well…”
“Well, what?”
“Well, what she’d say?”
Sam stares at him. “Because Ads is in love with you. So just apologize and tell her that you love her too. While you’re not dying.”
Dean tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “No.”
“Dean—”
“I’m not gonna be the reason Ads ends up hurt—”
“She’s already hurting, Dean,” Sam snaps. He shakes his head and turns his gaze out of the window. He knew that there was nothing else he could say to make Dean change his mind. He just hoped that he could convince Addison to stay and help look for a way to remove the Mark of Cain. He knew that it was going to be hard enough to convince Dean that they could find a way to save him.
Addison bites her lip as she looks over the pile of clothes sitting on her bed. She was trying to pack up her stuff and get out of the Bunker before the boys came back from their case. She knew it was shitty of her. To just leave while they were focused on a case. But she was tired. She was tired of Dean ignoring her. She was tired of feeling like she did something wrong. She was just tired and wanted a break.
Addison shakes her head and walks out of her bedroom, pausing to make sure the door is closed behind her. She heads towards the library, intending to get her laptop. She stops at seeing Sam unpacking his laptop. Sam looks up at her. “Hey.”
“You guys are back,” Addison replies, moving towards her computer.
Sam frowns. “You seem surprised.”
“Serial killer goes missing from death row and it’s not a case,” Addison argues. “Yeah, Sam, that would surprise me all right.”
“It is a case. Cain was behind the guy disappearing,” Sam tells her. She raises an eyebrow and walks over to him. “Um, we think Cain is going after this one family.”
Addison frowns. “Does Cas have any leads?”
“We don’t know. He did confirm that Tommy Tolliver is dead. And told Dean that he would call us back before hanging up.”
Addison sighs and sits down at her laptop. “All right. Let’s see if this family has any other skeletons in it’s closet.”
A short while later, Castiel has arrived at the Bunker. The angel catches the trio up on his encounter with Cain, which included discovering a mass grave, and everything he had learned since they had last seen him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring better news, Dean,” Castiel says.
“It’s not your fault, Cas,” Dean reassures.
“Thank you,” Sam says, then hangs up his phone. “All right, the sheriff gave me a few more names, some preliminary I.D.s on the bodies.”
“And?”
“And it seems to fit Cas’ story. I mean, there’s no way to tell the relation to Cain, obviously, but he’s wiping entire families, one after another.”
“So who’s next? Is he done with the Tollivers?”
“Uh, I think so. I mean, Leon didn’t have any siblings or any other children I can see and Tommy was never married—”
“Except Tommy had a son,” Addison interrupts, turning her laptop to face them. A birth certificate was on the screen. “Austin Reynolds, twelve years old. Lives in Ohio with his mother. And is estranged from his father.”
“Is the kid still alive,” Dean questions.
“Given that he just posted something on Facebook, yeah, he is,” Addison replies. She frowns and turns to Castiel. “Would Cain really go after a kid? I mean, the rest of the family I get. But this kid hasn’t killed anyone.”
“Yes, he would,” Castiel confirms.
“There were old men in the graves, Ads, women,” Dean points out. “I mean, you heard Cas. It’s a fire sale. Everyone must go.”
Dean turns and starts out of the library. “Where you going,” Sam questions.
“We know where Cain’s gonna be. The kid’s in danger.”
“Okay, so what, we track him down to Ohio and then what?”
“Then I’ll do what I have to do. I’ll kill Cain.” Addison shakes her head in disbelief and stands up. “Got a problem, Ads?”
“You just casually said that you’re going to kill the father of murder,” Addison argues. “And you expect me not to have a problem with this.”
“When he gave me the Mark, Cain said that this day would come, that after I killed Abaddon, I would have to come and put him down,” Dean tells them.
“So you’re taking orders from a madman now,” Addison counters.
“No. He wasn’t mad then. Cain resisted the Mark for a long time, then I came, kicking up trouble about the Blade. I sent him down this path. This is on me.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to be the one to go after him,” Sam says.
“Yes, it does. And there’s only one thing that can kill him.”
Sam sighs. “The Blade.”
“Dean’s right,” Castiel says.
Sam shakes his head. “Dean, wielding the Blade against Cain himself…” He trails off as Dean covers the Mark on his arm. “Win or lose, you may never come back from that fight.”
“I know,” Dean confirms.
Addison’s standing next to Castiel as they stare at the barn. The kid, Austin, was inside playing. They were waiting for Dean and Sam to show up. “Things are tense between you and Dean,” the angel says, looking at her. She stares at him, waiting. “I noticed.”
“Cas,” Addison begins, patting the angel on the shoulder. “Stay out of it.”
Castiel remains quiet as the Dean and Sam finally walk up to them. “Kid here,” Dean questions.
“He’s in the barn,” Addison replies. “Shooting hoops.”
“Cain will strike soon. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, but soon. And when he does…”
“Yeah, I got it,” Sam reluctantly says. “You charge in with the Blade solo. And the kid? What, we just watch and wait until Cain attacks? I thought this was a rescue mission.”
“We save the kid after Cain shows.”
“We know what Cain’s after,” Castiel adds. “That’s our only advantage. We want to trap Cain, we use it.”
Addison snorts, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we’re talking about using a twelve-year-old as bait.”
“Neither can I,” a Scottish voice drawls. The group turns around to see Crowley walking towards them.
“What’s the matter, Crowley,” Dean replies. “You suddenly grow a conscience? Too good to put a minor in danger?”
“Don’t give a damn about the kid. I’m talking about the risk to us,” Crowley tells him.
“There is no us. You’re here for one reason. That’s to hand me the Blade.”
“Yeah, about that. Seeing as this is having up to be one of those, uh, two-step capture then kill kind of deals, I think your buddies would agree it’s better to keep the Blade out of your hands until we’ve got Cain sewn up, just to be safe.” Dean looks between Sam and Addison, both of whom shrug. “Now back to this plan of yours.”
Addison waits until Sam runs into the room with the boy before she closes the door. She glances at the boy once more before turning her gaze to Sam. “Do you think this will really work,” she softly questions as he joins her. They both lean against the door, hoping that their extra weight would keep it closed longer.
“I hope so,” Sam replies as they hear a loud thud. They exchanged a worried look, hoping that the plan was working.
Banging starts on the door. “Sam,” Addison calls. Her feet were slipping as the banging continued. He presses his back against the doors. Then the banging stops. They step away from the door before it slams open. She looks up and sees a tall man with long salt-and-pepper hair. He had a thick beard. “Sam.”
“Don’t,” Austin emotionlessly says. “Please don’t.”
The hunters watch as Cain stabs Austin in the chest and disappears in a cloud of purple smoke. “Illusion spell,” Cain says.
“Yeah,” Addison breathes. “The real Austin is long gone.”
“Eighteenth-century magic,” Cain states as Crowley walks into the barn. “If I had to hazard a guess, Rune of Amaranth.”
“Good eye,” Crowley replies. “Something I picked up from my mother.”
“Well, I know you fear me. I can only assume…” Cain brushes hay to the side on the floor to find a Devil’s Trap. “Oh. Clever. Won’t hold me for long, you know.”
“It won’t need to,” Sam says, then three of them walk out of the barn. Dean was waiting outside, next to the Impala. Addison slides the doors closed.
Castiel walks over to them, rubbing the back of his head. “Cas, hey, you okay,” Sam asks the angel.
“I’m fine,” Castiel answers. “It worked?”
“Yeah,” Sam lets out.
“My turn,” Dean states.
“Dean, look, we want to help.”
“No. No, with either of you in the ring, it’d just be a liability.”
“Dean,” Castiel asks.
“I’d be too worried about what he could do to you…or what I could. Plus, I need you four out here to take out whatever comes out of there. And I’m serious. I mean whatever comes out.”
“Happily,” Crowley says. He holds up the First Blade. “What guarantee do I have that you’ll give it back when you’re done?”
“If I survive and I come out other and I don’t give it back, you’ll have a much bigger problem on your hands,” Dean reminds. Crowley hands the First Blade over to Dean. He takes a deep breath as the power flows through him.
“Dean,” Addison softly asks.
“I’m good,” Dean tells them, then walks into the barn.
Addison’s leaning against the Impala when Sam walks over to her. She’s glued to her phone. He glances over at where Crowley and Castiel are standing. He bumps her shoulder and she looks up at him. “Thanks for being here,” he softly says.
“Just because things between me and Dean are complete crap right now doesn’t mean I don’t care,” Addison replies.
“Yeah. I know.” Sam shoves his hands into her jacket pockets. “I told Dean he needs to apologize to you.”
Addison lets out a frustrated breath and pushes away from the Impala. “Sam…”
“I also told him why we broke up.” She looks at him with disbelief on her face. “He thought we were still together, Ads, and was trying to apologize.”
“Did he at least tell you why he said what he said?”
Sam sighs. “No.”
“Great.” Addison shakes her head and folds her arm across her chest. “You know, this doesn’t make things better, Sam.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Trouble brewing in paradise,” Crowley questions, looking between Sam and Addison.
“No,” Sam and Addison answer.
Crowley raises an eyebrow. “Which means yes.”
Footsteps sound and the group turns to see a bloodied and bruised Dean walking out of the barn. “Dean,” Sam asks, worried about his older brother.
“Dean, the Blade,” Crowley says, holding out a hand. Dean looks at the Blade and starts towards the King of Hell, then hands the Blade over to Castiel. “You lied to me.”
“It’s not the first time today,” Dean counters. “Cain’s list…you weren’t on it.”
Dean walks over to Sam and Addison as Crowley vanishes. He stares at Addison before taking a step towards her. He takes another step then starts to collapse. Addison quickly catches him. “It’s okay,” she softly says. “It’s okay. I’m here."
Sam walks over to them. He grabs one of Dean’s arms and helps him up. “You did it. Dean, you did it.”
Sam waits for the coffee maker to finish brewing another pot before pouring himself a cup. He turns to Dean, who is sitting at the table. Addison had made herself scarce since they had returned to the Bunker. “Dean, um, you know, what you did back there…it was incredible. You know, if you can do that without losing yourself…that’s cause for hope, even without a cure.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Dean mutters as Castiel walks into the kitchen. “So, where’s the Blade?”
“Somewhere safe,” Castiel answers.
“Good. Well, if you guys will excuse me, I think I am gonna go sleep for about four days,” Dean tells them, standing up.
“Of course,” Sam says.
Dean pats Castiel on the shoulder as he walks out of the kitchen. Dean makes his way throughout the Bunker. He knew what he needed. He stands in front of Addison’s bedroom door. He knocks, but there’s no answer. “Ads.” He knocks once more. Still no answers. “Ads, come on.” Dean opens the door and finds that it's empty. He walks into her room and sits on the bed.
While the lavender floral bedspread wasn’t something he would ever pick nor was the lavender-scented air freshener, Dean couldn’t help but feel calm.
“Why are you in my room?”
Dean looks up to find Addison standing in the doorway. She held a couple of books from the library. He knows what he should say. That he should apologize. Tell her that he loves her. But he doesn’t.
Addison shakes her head. “Whatever. Winston called and asked for my help for some job he’s working in Florida,” she says, grabbing her duffle bag by the door. She drops it on the bed and moves around him to grab the lavender blade she kept under her pillow. She goes to put the blade in her duffle when he grabs her arm.
“Don’t go,” Dean quietly says.
“Dean, I-I can’t do this with you anymore,” Addison tells him. “I’m not going to sit around here and-and-and have you treat me like crap all the time. I’m done with—”
“Ads, I’m sorry,” Dean interrupts, standing up. A tear slips out and rolls down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Addison stares at him for a moment, then lets out a frustrated breath and tightly embraces him. He immediately hugs her back. Because at least in that moment, he could pretend that everything was okay between them. He could pretend that he was okay.
Chapter 15: The Things They Carried
Chapter Text
Addison closes her eyes in frustration. She was standing in front of the card catalog in the library. Sam was sitting at one of the tables, his laptop in front of him. She was listening to Winston describe how he had barely managed to deal with a particular nasty spirit in California. Sam looks up when Addison tosses her phone onto the table. “Everything okay, Ads,” he asks.
“Winston’s a fucking idiot,” Addison replies.
“I could’ve told you that,” Dean says, walking into the library with Addison’s iPad in hand. Sam quickly slams his computer shut causing both of them to stare at him. “Porn?”
“What? No. I-it’s nothing,” Sam lies.
“Hey, look, no judgement from me. Just, you know, not where we eat.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, it wasn’t porn.”
“Okay. ‘Erotica.’ Whatever. Zip it up. Check this out.” Dean holds out the iPad and Sam takes it. Addison walks over to them. “The vic was trained in Krav Maga and jiu-jitsu. Still ended up with her organs drained and the marrow was sucked completely out of the bones.”
“So…cannibalism. You thinking a rugaru?”
“Or a god,” Addison suggests.
Dean shrugs. “Either way, I’ll go dig up my pencil neck suit.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam says, standing up. “What?”
Dean looks over at him. “What? Is this not weird enough for you?”
“Well, yeah, it’s weird, but, um, I mean we-we…I mean…” Sam trails off.
“Great,” Dean tells him. “Ten minutes. I’ll meet you both in the car.”
“Great.” Sam stands up and clears his throat. “So, um, Ads, is-is—”
“Just because Dean apologized doesn't mean I forgive him yet,” Addison interrupts. She picks up her phone that was sitting on the table. “It’s just…it’s gonna take time, Sam.”
Sam lightly smiles at her as they walk out of the library. “If you ever want to talk, Ads, I’m here.”
“I know.”
“I mean, I am technically your brother-in-law.”
Addison shoots him an unamused look. “That’s not funny, Sam.”
“It’s a little funny.”
Addison walks with the boys into the police station. She raises an eyebrow seeing numerous police officers, standing around and eating cake. The sheriff notices the boys and walks over to the counter. “Agents, I gather,” he greets, looking them over.
“Uh, was it the suits or do we give off some sort of a Fed stench,” Dean replies.
“It’s the suits,” the sheriff answers. “What can I do for you boys?”
Addison clears her throat and the sheriff glances at her. “We’re here investigating the death of Private Jackie Prescott,” she says. It wasn’t the first time that a sheriff had paid zero attention to her and she doubted it would be the last time.
The sheriff smiles. “Shoot. You drove all the way down from DC?”
“Yes, we did.”
“Well, then sorry to waste your time, agents, but we wrapped that one up. Guy that did it was a special forces officer. Rick Willis.”
“What makes you so sure it was him,” Dean questions.
The sheriff grabs a file and hands it to Sam. “His fingerprints were all over the storage room out on the base where he did it. He even left his dog tags by the body.”
“Is he in custody,” Addison asks.
“No, bastard drank a boatload of gasoline, then lit himself on fire.”
“Well, that’s a hell of a way to go,” Dean says.
“No kidding. Left a wife and a baby. Third suicide we seen in six months. Military town. Would you like some cake?”
Dean grins and moves to reach for a slice of cake but Sam blocks his access. “No, uh, you know what? We’re okay,” Sam tells the Sheriff.
“No, it’s really good. My partner made it,” the Sheriff replies, motioning to the chocolate cake sitting on the counter.
“While it looks delicious, Sheriff, we’re good,” Addison says. Neither her nor Sam notice Dean take a subtle swipe of icing. “But one last question, did the victim have any bite marks on her?”
“No. Vic was killed with a Bowie,” the Sheriff answers.
“Well, Sheriff, thank you for your time,” Dean says.
As the trio makes their way out of the police station, Dean quickly sucks the icing off of his finger. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Addison. “Seriously, Dean,” she disbelievingly asks. A sheepish look crosses Dean’s face.
“No bite marks,” Sam says. “That rules out rugaru. So what? A god?”
“I don’t know. If it is a god, why would they molotov cocktail himself? That’s a whole different level of crazy. Like demon possession crazy.”
“Rick did it,” Beth Willis, Rick’s widow, says as the trio sits at the island in her kitchen. She was holding a baby and was trying to hold back her tears. “I’m not trying to say that he didn’t. But…I mean, he just got back from deployment and we’ve all seen what it can do to a soldier’s mind. My Rick…when he’s home and good…I have to kill the spiders, you know? Rick was a kind soul. He never took more life than he had to.”
“Did you, um, notice anything strange, weird, like, uh, violent mood swings? Or weird smells,” Sam questions.
Beth shakes her head. “No. But…Rick was…he was so…he was thirsty.”
Dean frowns. “Thirsty for what?”
“Water. He’d spend half the day drinking from the garden hose. And then, one night, I caught him in the tub drinking the bathwater. When I told him to stop, it was like he couldn’t even hear me. And his skin, it got so dry it bled.”
“Did he see a doctor?”
“I took him to the VA, but he just got on a list to get on a list. And then he stopped talking…and just wasn’t himself. I thought maybe it was PTSD.”
“Uh, we’re very sorry,” Sam softly says.
“You said Rick was recently deployed, right,” Addison questions and Beth nods. “Do you know where?”
“No, that stuff is classified. They don’t even let the wives in on it,” Beth replies.
“Right. Okay, well, we’ll, um…we’ll leave you alone now, but if something come up, anything at all,” Sam says, pulling out a business card and setting it on the counter. “Just give us a call.”
“There’s one other thing. I ran into my friend Jemma at the supermarket. She’s married to Kit Verson, a guy from Rick’s team. She thinks Kit came back different this time. Kind of felt like we were dealing with the same thing.”
“Thank you,” Sam tells Beth and the trio walks out of the house.
A short while later, the trio is standing in the living room of Jemma and Kit Verson’s house. “Kit’s been going through some stuff for sure,” Jemma says. “Um, you know, it takes him a while to get back to normal, but he always does.”
“And what about you,” Dean asks. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay…for the most part. You know, what happened to Rick and Beth, it…it’s been hard. ‘There but for the grace of God,’ you know?”
“Can we talk to Kit,” Addison asks.
“He, um, he went out last night, but he should be back any minute. You know Kit…he comes back from these deployments and he needs his space.”
“So, he’s been out all night,” Dean questions.
“Well, yeah.” The trio exchanges a look. “God. I can’t even convince myself. Um, I’m worried. This isn’t like him.”
“Has he been thirsty,” Sam asks. “Like ‘drink out of the dog bowl’ thirsty?”
A surprised look crossed Jemma’s face. “How did you know?”
“Just a guess.” Sam pulls out a business card and hands it to Jemma. “If anything comes up, just give us a call.”
The trio walks out of the house and Addison feels Dean tense beside her as they see Cole Trenton leaning against the Impala. “Recognized your wheels,” Cole greets as they near him.
“What the fuck are you doing here,” Dean coldly asks.
“Jemma called me. I’ve known Kit since we were military brats raisin’ hell on the same base,” Cole answers, walking towards them. “He’s a good man.”
“Well, no one’s saying he’s not.”
“Oh, really now? So, what are you three, uh, here for Jemma’s sweet tea?” The trio remains quiet. “You want to tell me why you’re really here?”
“We’re working a case,” Sam answers.
“Oh, Kit’s case?”
“Honestly, we’re not sure just yet, but, um it’s looking like it.”
“Says you.”
“There was a murder suicide in town,” Addison replies. “And your friend Kit? He was in the same unit as the killer. He exhibiting the same things. So…”
“Look, we’re not going anywhere, all right,” Sam continues. “And if you care about your buddy, you’ll let us handle this.”
“Nah, I think I’m gonna be coming with you,” Cole tells him.
“Oh, the fuck you are,” Dean snaps.
“I got contacts. I can help.”
“You really can’t.”
“For example, a friend of mine works military intelligence…owes me a favor.”
“Would he know what Rick and Kit’s mission was,” Sam questions.
“Sure. And he’d tell me all about it.”
Dean glances between Sam and Addison, both of whom had looks of resignation on their faces. “Okay, fine,” he reluctantly agrees.
“No, it ain’t. You know, I figure what’s going on here…I stick to you three like flies on roadkill, make sure my buddy comes home in one piece. Look, I know what you three are thinking, but we are not gonna hunt my best friend, who happens to be a fucking war hero, by the way. We are gonna find him. And that’s the difference.”
“Hey, man, we’re right there with you, okay? Kit’s a hero, but…”
“But you got to prepare yourself. Kit might not be Kit anymore,” Sam finishes.
Addison bites her lip as she searches the internet on her iPad, looking for anything that might related to their case and more than anything, Dean wants to lean over and kiss her. He wants to slide his hand under her skirt and feel her soft skin. He wants to take her to the Impala and feel her underneath him, case be damned. Dean shifts, pushing the thoughts out of his mind for the time being. He knew that Addison hadn’t fully forgiven him. He didn’t blame her either.
Cole was sitting on Dean’s other side, glued to his phone. The man hadn’t said much since they had left Kit’s house earlier. “Yo,” Sam says, walking over to the table with a handful of cheeseburgers. “Sustenance.”
“I can’t find a thing on cattle deaths,” Addison says, taking the burger that Sam hands her. He sits down in the empty chair at the table. “Same with the weather patterns. Nothing.”
“So, probably not a demon,” Sam replies.
“So maybe it’s just not your kind of thing at all,” Cole argues.
“Well, when in doubt,” Dean tells him, holding up a burger. “Eat.”
Cole’s phone beeps and he picks it up. “Okay, here we go. I got an encrypted e-mail here from my friend at the M.I.”
“And,” Sam questions.
“Well…Kit and Rick were sent to rescue an American P.O.W. being held in Iraq,” Cole reads. “The Najaf cemetery.”
Dean raises an eyebrow. “Cemetery?”
“Bastards use ‘em as a, uh, as a prison. I got some footage here from the camera on Willis’ helmet during his last mission with Kit,” Cole says. He brings up the video and they watch the night vision footage. Men going into a crypt and looking around before being attacked by something.
“I’m guessing that didn’t have a happy ending,” Dean says after the video ends.
“No, it did not,” Cole replies, putting his phone up. “Mission failed. And that P.O.W. got shot by guards.”
Addison snorts. “Really? That’s-that’s what happened?”
“That’s the official story.”
“All right, so, Kit and Rick came back fucked up. We know that much,” Dean says.
“And then Rick jumped the high dive.” Cole shakes his head. “God Kit.”
Sam’s phone dings and he picks it up. “What was that,” Dean questions.
“I set my phone to get local alerts,” Sam explains.
“Is it bad,” Cole asks.
“It’s bloody.”
Addison closes the case on her iPad and stands up. “I’m gonna find a bathroom before we leave,” she tells them then walks away.
“Trouble with the Mrs,” Cole asks, looking at Dean. He’s answered with a glare from Dean and a soft chuckle from Sam. “Guessing that’s a yes.”
“He licked the blood off the floor,” Cole disbelievingly asks as he and the trio walk out of the gas station. Cops and a few ambulances were scattered around the parking lot. The Impala was parked towards the back.
“Yeah, the soda jockey back there seemed pretty shook up by it,” Dean replies.
“Now, the description he gave…medium build, brown hair…that sound like the Kit you know,” Sam asks.
Cole sighs. “Yeah, it does.”
“Great.”
“Does this still sound like it’s not our kind of thing,” Addison asks. Cole’s phone rings and he walks off. Her phone rings and she pulls it out. “Excuse me.” She walks out of earshot of the guys. Dean exchanges an annoyed look with Sam who shrugs.
Dean watches Addison for a moment, then shakes his head. “Hey, Kung-Fu grip, you coming,” he shouts over to Cole.
“So, what next,” Sam asks, looking between his brother and Addison as she quickly rejoins them. Cole reaches them, shoving his phone in his pocket.
“We hit every cop shop within a ten mile radius, put the word out, see if we can’t track him down,” Dean answers.
“And if you find him, what then,” Cole questions. “Kit needs help. He doesn’t need a bullet and he doesn’t need a knife.”
Addison lets out a frustrated breath. “Look, Cole, we know that you want to protect your friend, but…”
“If he’s a monster, we got to put him down,” Dean finishes.
“That’s the way it’s gonna have to be, huh,” Cole replies.
“That’s the job. So, you in or out?”
Addison tightens her grip on the lavender blade as she and the boys walk up to the cabin. They were all on the same page that Cole knew more than he was letting on. After stopping to change out of their fed suits, they had parked down the road and waited for Cole to leave Jemma’s house. And it wasn’t a long wait before Cole had left. Hearing the sounds of a fight, they burst into the house. A Khan worm was slithering on the floor.
Addison runs over to the worm and stabs it with the blade. Dean is thrown across the room by Kit. Sam runs over and helps Cole up. “Oh, god. Oh, god,” Cole lets out, trying to cough. Dean runs out of the cabin, chasing after Kit. “Ew. Something went down my throat.”
“All right, Cole, just try and stay calm,” Sam tells him.
“Oh god.” Cole places a hand on his stomach and grimaces.
“Cole?”
“Something moved. It’s alive, Sammy.”
“All right, we’ll we’re gonna get it out of you, okay?”
“How?”
“Well, figure it out. We—”
“Man, that was a dumbass move coming here alone,” Dean interrupts, walking back into the cabin. “You know that, right?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Cole snaps. “I should have let the machete brothers cut my buddy’s head off.”
“Well, if you did, maybe you wouldn’t be chokin’ down a fucking Khan worm right now.”
“What’s a Khan worm?”
“You think that’s what it is,” Sam asks as Addison pulls the lavender blade out of the cabin floor. The Khan worm was sitting on the blade.
“Oh yeah,” Addison replies, examining the worm. She snaps her fingers and grins. “Benedict Cumberbatch worm.” She’s met with two disbelieving looks and a confused one. “What?”
“A few years back, we worked a case. We got stuck in a cannery with this worm,” Sam explains to Cole. “It would get into people’s bodies and…”
“It was horrible,” Addison finishes, wincing at the memory of when she was possessed by the Khan worm and killed Rufus.
“All right, so you’ve been to this rodeo before. How do we kill it,” Cole asks.
“Worst case…headshot the person it’s in,” Dean answers. “Worm crawls out, we stomp it like a bug.”
“Is there a version where you don’t cap me?”
Sam glances at Addison. “Yeah, uh, last time, electrocution made the worm leave the body.”
“All right. Fine. Electrocution it is. I’m game.”
“All right. You three get to work. I’ll go look for Kit,” Sam replies. He starts out of the cabin.
“Hey, hey, Sammy,” Cole calls and Sam loos at him. “If we can fix me, we can save Kit, right?”
“That’s the idea,” Sam says, then heads out of the cabin.
Silence settles over the hunters as they gather the needed items to get the worm out of Cole. Addison searches through the cabin and finds a wooden spoon. She walks back over to Dean and Cole. Dean had found a car battery and some jumper cables. Cole was sitting in an armchair. “You know that this gonna hurt like a son of a bitch,” Dean says.
“Hell, I have a wife, a kid, and an upside-down mortgage to get back to,” Cole replies. “Whatever it takes, Dean-o.”
Dean stares at him for a moment. “Okay.”
“So, last time you saw this thing, it turned people into killers too?”
“Yeah,” Addison confirms, handing Cole the wooden spoon. “Along with a side of mind control.” She absently scratches at the scar on the back of her neck not far from the small heart tattoo that sat on the base of her hairline. Something that Dean doesn’t miss.
“Damn. Day in, day out, you three saving people from things they just can’t wrap their minds around…hell and nobody even notices it. At least I get a medal for my efforts. But you…” Cole looks at Dean. “I tried to kill your ass.”
“Yeah, well, good times,” Dean replies.
“I almost took you off the map. Who would be saving me now?”
“Yeah, well, let’s not get too sentimental about it.” Dean picks up the jumper cables that he had attached to the battery. “All right, let’s fire this puppy up.”
“Well you say that like it’s just another Tuesday.”
“Oh, buddy, it’s only Monday.” Dean taps the jumper cable clamps together and they spark. Cole puts the spoon in his mouth and leans back in the chair. He had removed his jacket and pulled the sleeves on his long sleeve shirt up, exposing his forearms. Dean steps forward and holds up the jump cable clamps. Cole nods and Dean places the clamps on Cole’s arms. Addison looks away as the electricity flows through Cole’s body.
Dean pulls back and Cole is panting. “Anything,” he asks.
“Last time, it came out of our ears,” Dean explains, examining Cole’s ears.
“And?”
“I’m not seeing anything yet,” Dean replies.
“Do it again.”
Dean taps the clamps before placing them back on Cole’s arms. Cole lets out a muffled scream around the wooden spoon. Dean pulls the clamps away. “All right, that sucker should have crawled out by now.”
Cole, looking worse now, pants. “Again.”
“I keep going, this is gonna kill you.”
“Again!”
Dean taps the clamps once again and places them on Cole’s arm. The moment Cole’s eyes role back and his body goes limp, Dean pulls the clamps away. “Ads,” he calls and she runs over to them.
Addison places her fingers on Cole’s neck and searches for a pulse. “Cole, come on,” she says, placing a hand on his chest. A soft light emits from her hand. She pulls her hand back and checks his ears, only to not see anything.
Cole takes a gasping breath. He looks between the two hunters. “Again.”
“No,” Dean says. “No, we’re done playing Operation. I zap you again, you’re toast. Just take a knee.”
“I need some air,” Addison says, then walks out of the cabin, leaving the two men alone.
Addison’s sitting on the steps of the cabin when Dean walks out. “I talked to Sam,” he says, sitting down next to her. “He doesn’t have anything. And he hasn’t found Kit yet.” He notices that she’s biting the side of her nail, something that she did when she was nervous. He clears his throat. “So, uh, what kind of bullshit hunt is Winston trying to get you to help him with?”
Addison frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“He called you earlier.”
“Dean, Sister Peg called me. She was cleaning out Father O’Connor’s office and found an old journal that belong to my dad. And to let me know that the church found a permanent replacement for Father O’Connor.”
“We can head up there after we finish this job.”
“It’s fine, Dean. I’d rather wait and not deal with whatever bullshit my dad left right now.” She wipes her hands on her jeans. “So, Sam didn’t have anything.”
“No.”
“My powers didn’t seem to have any effect on the Benedict Cumberbatch worm.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Ads, that’s a stupid name.”
“Khan worm 2?”
“That’s still a dumb name.”
“Yeah, I know. Desert worm?” A look crosses Dean’s face. “What?”
“This thing likes water. And when that’s not enough…”
“It moves onto blood or bone marrow.”
“It’s like a parasite. It sucks the vic dry and then it moves on.”
Addison shifts. “You think if we dehydrate Cole the worm will come out.”
“Make him a hostile environment. Well, more than he already is.”
“You think it’ll work,” Addison asks as they stand up.
“I think it’s the only plan we got,” Dean replies and they walk into the cabin. Cole was still sitting in the same chair. “What do you think about rapid dehydration?”
Cole looks between the two hunters. “We need to make the worm thirsty for it come out of you,” Addison clarifies.
“Then I’m big fan of rapid dehydration,” Cole replies. “Just make sure you squash that sucker when it goes AWOL.”
Dean tosses a few logs into the fire place. “Nothing like a sweat lodge in the woods, huh?”
“You guys are in a sweat lodge,” Sam disbelievingly says over the speaker on Addison’s phone a short while later. Heat and humidity had quickly filled the cabin. Addison had taken off her jacket and button up shirt leaving her in jeans and a powder blue tank top. Dean had shed his jacket, leaving him in a button up shirt and grey undershirt.
“Electricity wasn’t working,” Addison replies, pulling her hair into a messy bun. “My powers couldn’t make the worm come out.”
“Your powers didn’t work?”
“Yeah.”
“I figured take a schvitz, kill the freak. Call that a good day,” Dean says.
“Yeah, if it works.”
“Well, you got a better idea,” Dean questions.
“Yeah, I do, actually, Dean. We know how to end this.”
Dean sighs, exchanging a look with Addison. “Yeah, plan ‘B’ for bullet. But we’re not quite there yet, so just hold tight.”
“All right.”
“How’s Jemma,” Addison questions.
“She’s barely holding on. How’s Cole?”
“He’s going strong.”
“Good. Look, guys, Kit is gonna come to. And when I got here, it was bad.”
“We’re on the clock, we get it.”
“Yeah.”
Sam hangs up and Addison shoves her phone in back pocket. “Just keep sweating, man,” Dean says, grabbing a bottle of water. He takes a deep swig before handing it to Addison. She takes a swig and hands it back to him. Dean notices Cole was watching them with hunger on his face. “Sorry.” At least he hoped Cole was just wanting the bottle of water and not beads of sweat traveling down Addison’s neck to the top of her breasts.
“My dad…he got something inside him too, right,” Cole asks. He was panting. “You think this is what he felt like when he turned?”
“Maybe,” Addison softly answers. “I mean…your dad was human before he was…a monster.”
“I get it…why you did it, Dean. My dad wasn’t my dad anymore. If I go down that same road…I want you to do that to me too.”
“That road,” Dean repeats. “That means giving up. If you think that’s where you’re headed then you’ve got it ass backwards. You’re gonna fight harder than you ever have. You understand?”
Addison picks up the bottle of water and takes another swig. Cole was intently watching her. He takes a deep breath. “Addie, will you do me the honor of tying me to this chair,” Cole says.
Addison rolls her eyes and hands the water bottle to Dean. “Fine,” she mutters, grabbing the rope off of the table. She walks over to Cole and kneels in front of him. She starts to wrap rope around his arm when Cole shoots a hand out and grabs her neck.
Dean jumps up and pulls out his gun. He points it Cole. “Let her go.”
“Come on. We both know you’re not gonna do it,” Cole replies, watching the sweat on Addison’s neck.
“You are gonna sweat this one through,” Dean tells him. He notices Addison reach behind her back to grab her gun.
“I can’t!”
Addison places the barrel of her under Cole’s chin and clicks off the safety. “You have a family, Cole. Think about them,” she says. He releases his grip on her and Addison moves back, keeping the gun in front of her.
“I appreciate the talk, coach. But honestly, all I can think about is slicing your neck open and drinking you like a fountain,” Cole tells them. Addison exchanges a look with Dean. “Guess that makes me a monster, don’t it?”
Dean pulls out his phone and dials Sam. He keeps an eye on Cole, who was kneeling in front of fire, coughing, and Addison, who had made the decision to put a few feet between her and Cole. “Come on, Sammy! Pick up!”
Cole suddenly jumps up and tackles Dean to the ground. Addison runs over to them. She aims her gun at him. “Don’t make me do this,” she says.
“I already did,” Cole replies, throwing his head back.
Dean shoves Cole off of him as the kahn worm starts to crawl out. “Holy shit,” Dean exclaims. The kahn worm falls to the floor and Dean quickly stomps on it. He looks over at Cole. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Oh thank god. Thank god.”
Addison finds Sam sitting in the library. Dean had gone to bed. They hadn’t said much on the drive back to the Bunker. Not being able to save Kit and Dean reminding him that there were times where they couldn’t save people had brought Sam’s mood down a bit. She sits down next to him. “Sam, we’re gonna find a way to save Dean,” she tells him. He remains quiet, staring at the book in front him. “I-I know things between me and Dean aren’t the best right now…but I’m not gonna give up on him.”
Addison stands up and lightly pats his shoulder. She starts to walk out of the library. “Ads,” Sam says and and she looks at him. “Thanks.”
She softly smiles at him. “Of course.”
Chapter 16: Paint It Black
Chapter Text
“Addison.”
Addison brightly smiles as she walks over to Sister Peg, who was standing outside of her small office within St. Augustine. Having a few days of things being quiet had given Addison the chance to make her way to Boston and pay visit to the old nun, especially after the nun had called her the day before.
“How are you doing, dear,” Sister Peg asks, leading Addison through the familiar church.
“I’m fine, Sister Peg,” Addison amusedly replies. “Your last call was a little cryptic.”
Sister Peg smiles. “Father O’Connor’s replacement started last week. Father McDonald. He wanted to meet you.”
“I get the feeling that there’s something else too other than wanting to give me my father’s journal.”
“St. Philomena’s in Worcester. A couple of parishioners have passed in…unusual ways.”
Addison raises an eyebrow. “Unusual how?”
“A man after going to confession stabbed and disemboweled himself with a candlestick on the sidewalk outside of the church,” Sister Peg explains.
Addison nods. “Yeah, that’s unusual all right. I’ll look into it, Sister Peg.”
“Thank you.” Sister Peg knocks on the door. After a moment, it opens to reveal a tall man with messy short brown hair and amusement in his brown eyes. “Father McDonald, this is—”
“Addison Sloan,” Father McDonald excitedly greets, holding out a hand. “It’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve been reading Father O’Connor’s journal and…wow. Standing right in front of me…The Last Descendant.”
Addison forces a smile. “I-I wouldn’t put much stock into the whole last descendant thing.”
Sister Peg has an amused look on her face. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
Addison watches as Sister Peg quickly walks away from them. Even through the woman was in her late sixties, Addison wished she could get away with hitting a nun. She clears her throat and turns back to Father McDonald. “Look, Father—”
“Ryan,” Father McDonald interrupts with a smile. “You can call me Ryan. Father McDonald seems so formal. Especially since I’ve been tasked with ensuring that you and the Last Descendant bloodline lives on.”
Addison humorlessly chuckles. “Yeah, okay. Well, um, Ryan, Sister Peg asked me to check out what had happened in Worcester—”
“Yes, I heard about the very unusual suicides there. I already called Father Delaney and offered my condolences along with any services he needs for his parishioners.”
Addison forces a smile. “Awesome.” She clears her throat. “Anyway, I, uh, I told Sister Peg I would check out what happened Worcester. So, I have to go.”
“Do you mind if I tag along,” Father McDonald questions. “Father O’Connor’s journals mentioned that you were a, uh, hunter, I think was the word.”
“Um, yeah. Yeah. Hunter.”
“Hunter of the supernatural. I have never seen anything supernatural. I have read about it. But never seen anything up close before.”
Addison’s first instinct is to say no. She had little desire to have someone tagging along with her, even if it was a priest. “Sure,” she says and inwardly winces.
Father McDonald grins. “Great. I’m gonna let Sister Peg know that I’ll be joining you.”
“Oh, oh, I-I-I wasn’t leaving tonight,” Addison lies. “Worcester is such a short drive so I’m gonna head out in the morning. So yeah.”
“That’s perfectly fine. It gives me more time to pack and prepare for our…what do you call it?”
“Hunt,” Addison supplies.
“Hunt. You’re more than welcome to stay in the cottage on the property. I read that you usually stay there when you’re in town. And we will head out to Worcester first thing in the morning.” Father McDonald puts his hands on Addison’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure we have plenty of holy water for our hunt.”
“Okay.” Addison watches as Father McDonald runs out of the room. “Fuck me.”
Dean frowns as he walks out of the Worcester Police Station with Sam early that morning. He knew they had a case, despite the fact that Sam seemed not all interested in the case. He needed this to be a case. He needed something to drown out the Mark, to drown out the fact that Addison wasn’t around. He missed her. Even if she had only been gone for a few days. And Sam had no problem teasing his older brother about the case that suddenly popped up in Massachusetts just after Addison had left for Boston.
“Ads,” Sam amusedly says, picking up his pace across the parking lot. Addison waves at them. She was leaning against the front of the Impala. Her legs were on display as she wore her fed suit. Dean can’t help but watch as she pushes away from his beloved car. Parked next to the Impala her cherry red Mustang. Sam reaches her first and tightly embraces her. She returns his hug before pulling away. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, there’s a case,” Addison amusedly replies. “I was gonna talk to the police, but then I saw the Impala and decided to let you guys do the boring part.”
Dean shoots Sam a satisfied smirk. “I told you there was a case here,” he says before tightly embracing Addison. All the tension he had been feeling the past few days vanishes. Sam clears his throat and Dean releases his hold on Addison.
“So, what do you guys have,” Addison questions, looking between them.
“Terry Sloan, ordinary guy, not a lot of friends but no known enemies, no relation to the other vics,” Sam tells her.
“Well, not necessarily,” Dean argues. “He’s Catholic and so are the other two.”
“Dean, this is Massachusetts. There are a lot of Catholics in Massachusetts.” Sam glances at Addison. “You both think this is a case?”
“Sam, there are way more less painful ways to commit suicide,” Addison argues. “Why would someone do it with a candlestick?”
“Yeah, Ads, but he did kill himself.”
“All right, so, it was not a witch,” Dean counters. “There was nothing hexy found on him, Uh, possession? Could have been a demon?”
“Yeah, but the point of a demon possessing a living thing is to, you know, possess a living thing.”
“Okay, agent, why don’t you get that cellphone back to the bureau’s crime lab, get it hacked like you told those guys, and, uh, we’ll figure out what’s going on with Terry Sloane.”
Sam scoffs. “Probably nude selfies.”
Addison shakes her head in amusement. She looks up at Dean. “Well, I was going to check out the church, if you’d like—”
“Addison!”
Addison squeezes her eyes shut as the boys turn to see Father McDonald walking towards them. He was carrying a tray of coffee. Dean stares at the priest with a hard look while Sam had a curious look on his face.
“They didn’t have the chocolate croissant, so I got you a blueberry scone instead. It’s probably the better choice of a breakfast pastry,” Father McDonald tells her.
Dean turns to Addison, clearly annoyed. “You’ve only been gone like two days and already have some random one night stand douchebag buying you breakfast,” he asks. Sam clears his throat. He had noticed the collar that Father McDonald was wearing.
“Dean, Sam, this is Father Ryan McDonald,” Addison says, staring at Dean. “He’s Father O’Connor’s replacement at St. Augustine. Father, this is Dean and Sam Winchester. They’re also hunters. And working the same case that Sister Peg asked me to look into.”
Dean shifts. “Apologies, Padre.”
“It’s fine. Even if I didn’t join the church, Addison would still not be my type,” Father McDonald amusedly replies, smiling at Dean.
“Oh. Oh.”
Addison clears her throat. “Anyway, Father McDonald asked to join me on this case. Because he’s never been on a hunt before.”
Dean nods. “Well, Father, how about you join Sam on checking out Terry Sloane’s phone while Ads and I check out his house?”
“Well, that was a complete bust,” Addison says, climbing into the front seat of the Impala. Dean was in his usual spot behind the wheel. She had been surprised that he had wanted to check out the victim’s house with her. But she had went with it. “No EMF, no sulfur. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
Dean shifts. “Look, um, what happened earlier with, uh, the father…I’m sorry.”
Addison turns to him. “Why did you say it in the first place?”
“I, uh, I thought—”
“I’m not talking about needing to mark your territory in front of Father McDonald, Dean,” Addison interrupts. “I’m talking about what you said the kitchen after we helped Charlie.”
“Ads, I hurt Charlie without a second thought. I killed all those people without a second thought. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“So you didn’t want to hurt me…by hurting me?”
Dean rolls his eyes. “When you say it like that…” He sighs. “I also thought you and Sam were still together.”
“And part of you felt guilty?” He nods. “Why didn’t you just talk to me, Dean?”
“You know that I’m not exactly good with…” He waves his hand and she shakes her head, an amused smile on her face.
“Yeah, I know. Considering the only times you’ve ever said that you love me was literally right before you died.”
“You know, I do, through,” Dean says, looking at her.
“You do what?”
“I fucking love you, Ads,” Dean tell her.
Addison slides across the seat towards him. She places a hand on his cheek. “I love you too, Dean,” she softly says then kisses him. It’s soft and slow. He wanted everything he felt for her to be in the kiss. His slides up her skirt. She smiles. He didn’t care that it was the middle of the day. Or that they were parked on a suburban street.
A cell phone ringing causes him to pull back. “Damnit, Sam,” Dean mutters, fishing out his phone and puts it on speaker. Addison lightly smiles, resting a her chin on his shoulder. “Yeah?”
“There’s been another death,” Sam tells them.
Dean has a hand on her thigh. “Another suicide?”
“No. Murder. Lisa McCarthy murdered her husband and the last thing she remembers is being at church.”
Addison frowns. “St. Philomena’s,” she questions.
“Yep.” Sam clears his throat. “Hey, uh, Ads, we need to find a way to lose Ryan.”
Dean frowns. “Ryan?”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Father McDonald,” she clarifies. “I’ll call Sister Peg, Sam. I’m sure she can come up with something to cause him to go back to Boston.”
St. Philomena’s was like all the other Catholic churches in New England. Old and filled with beautiful wooden pews that were kept in pristine condition. “I just can’t believe Lisa McCarthy would murder her husband,” Father Delaney says, walking with the trio into the church. Father McDonald was outside, on the phone with Sister Peg.
“Right, well, his blood was all over her body,” Sam replies. “And her prints were all over the pair of scissors that butchered him.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Yeah.”
“Father, we have some questions for you,” Addison softly says. “Mrs. McCarthy says that the last thing she remembers is being here and that Frank had gone to confession. Did Frank talk about having any problems with his wife with you?”
“I’m sorry, Agent. The nature of confession is confidential,” Father Delaney tells her.
“Father, all of the victims attended your church,” Dean begins. “Um, could you at least tell us if they had recently been to confession?”
“Yes. These men were fairly regular, but then, so are the majority of the folks here,” Father Delaney says as a nun walks up to them.
“Father,” the nun asks. She was fairly young for a nun.
“Agents, Sister Mathias is our Director of Social Services. I’ve asked her to show you around and answer any questions.”
“Sure,” Sam replies and Father Delaney walks away.
Dean smiles at the nun. “Sister.”
“Agent…” Sister Mathias trails off.
“Allman. And these are Agents Betts and Harris.”
“Sister, you’re aware of the recent string of deaths, right,” Sam questions.
Sister Mathias nods. “Yes, a terrible tragedy. But I’m confused as to why you’re here. These were all suicides, weren’t they?”
“Well, possibly not.”
“Murders,” Sister Mathias asks, looking between the trio.
Addison notices Father McDonald walk back into the church. “Excuse me,” she says, then walks over to Father McDonald. The last thing they needed was for Father McDonald to accidentally reveal that they weren’t really FBI agents. “Father, is everything okay?”
“Sister Peg said there’s a situation at St. Augustine’s that I’m needed for,” Father McDonald quietly tells her. “So, I’m afraid I’ll have to head back to Boston.”
“That’s a bummer,” Addison softly replies. “But if Sister Peg needs you, then you probably should hit the road. You know, before traffic gets bad.”
Father McDonald stares at her for a moment, then lightly chuckles. “Let me know how the case goes.”
“Of course.”
Addison watches as Father McDonald walks out of the church. She lets out a relieved breath before heading back to Dean and Sister Mathias. Sam joins them at the same time. “Is there a cemetery nearby,” Sam questions.
Sister Mathias shoots him an amused look. “You could say that. The entire church is built over burial crypts.”
“Oh. Have you ever, uh, heard or-or felt anything strange or unusual?”
“Unusual how?”
“Like, uh, spots in the building that suddenly get cold or, uh, or maybe you feel like you’re not-not quite alone,” Dean clarifies.
“Rattling chains and teacups that fly across that room?”
Dean stares at the nun. “Sister, are you making fun of me?”
Sister Mathias laughs, but stops at seeing the trio not joining. “Really? The FBI believes in ghosts? I’m afraid I don’t. If you’ll excuse me, Agents, I have got back to work.”
The watch as Sister Mathias walks away before they leave the church. “Tell me you didn’t think that nun was hot,” Dean says and receives to two disbelievingly looks in return. He shrugs. “I think she had a little thing for me too.”
Addison shakes her head. “Dean, she’s married to God.”
“All right, so, Frank cheated on his wife, Lisa, right? You know, the whole theme of this case seems to be about guys dong their women wrong. Notice that,” Dean asks as they stop on the street outside of the church.
“Yeah, but Lisa McCarthy was pretty convincing the she had no idea whatsoever she had killed her husband,” Sam argues.
“Oh, hot nun said that Lisa had no idea he was cheating on her. So, maybe she was controlled by someone who did.”
“Again, nothing witchy.”
“Ghost,” Addison suggests.
Sam sighs. “Hard to say. I mean there’s EMF in the church, but it’s built on a burial ground.”
“You know that all the victims recently went to confession,” Dean tells them.
“So, you think Father Delaney’s involved?”
“Or maybe something surrounding the confessional. Sammy, Ads, how long has it been since my last confession?”
Addison bursts out laughing. She pats Dean on the chest. “You’ve never been to confession,” she says, then walks past him.
“Well, that’s too long,” Dean calls to her. Addison shakes her head as she continues walking down the street. Dean quickly catches up with her. Sam watches as Dean drapes an arm around Addison’s shoulder and as she leans into Dean’s side.
Sam watches as Dean steps into the confessional from where he was sitting with Addison in one of the church pews. He had noticed that something had changed between Dean and Addison. Something for the better. And Sam couldn’t help but wonder if the powerful force that Castiel had mentioned was Addison.
“Hey,” Addison says, breaking Sam’s train of thought. She taps his arm and Sam looks to see Dean walking towards them.
“So, you think you had an eavesdropper in there,” Sam questions as they start out of the church with Dean.
“Hope so,” Dean answers.
“Well, you better be careful,” Addison tells him. “Because if we’re right, dicks like you are just what our ghost is looking for.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “You got something to say, Addison?”
Addison stops and turns to Dean, arms crossed over her chest. “You were in there for a long time. I’m just wondering if there’s something I need to know.”
Dean moves closer to her. “No.” He walks around her and out of the church. Addison stands there for a moment then follows him. Sam follows after them, a tad confused at what was going on between them.
Sister Mathias shifts as she stands in the basement of St. Philomena’s with the hunters. “I never mentioned her to you because it didn’t occur to me she was connected with the murders,” the nun confesses. “Ever since I’ve been here I’ve come across restless spirits of all sorts. They’re all kind of…sad, harmless. And eventually, the poor things go to their final rest.”
Sam frowns. “Wait a second. So, you’re just comfortable around ghosts?”
“As a spiritual person, I’ve accepted many planes of existence. And as I said, they’ve all been harmless. Isabella was my friend. We had a lot in common, including…painful love lives. I wanted to protect her.”
“You said she showed up about three weeks ago when stuff from her home arrived,” Dean questions.
“Yes, part of a shipment from a monastery in Tivoli. Her family’s treasures found their way to the church as with many of the great houses of Europe.”
“You get that she got here just before the murders started happening,” Sam points out.
“I finally realized that. And then I heard the three of you and it made me wonder. That’s when I read her journal. It was given to her father right after her death.”
“Vengeful spirit just like we thought,” Dean says.
“A vengeful spirit from sixteenth century Florence. Which means she’s probably buried in Florence,” Addison says.
“I assume. The…the journal ended right after her trial,” Sister Mathias says, handing the journal to Sam. “Piero’s death was so horrific, she was convicted of witchcraft. They sentenced her to burn at the stake.”
“Okay, well, if she burned, then so would her bones,” Dean replies.
“Yeah, but, Dean, something here is the tether that ties her to this place,” Sam argues.
“It’s probably the journal, where she wrote about her life.” Dean turns to Sister Mathias. “Why don’t we see if we can’t find Isabella, try to slow her down. Sam, Ads, burn all this stuff.”
Sister Mathias frowns. “Her journal? Is that necessary?”
“Believe me, it’s necessary.”
“Well, I don’t know, Dean. I mean, there might be more in here,” Sam says.
“Sam, burn it. Let’s go.”
Addison watches as Dean and Sister Mathias walk out of the basement room. She turns to Sam. “Read fast,” she tells him. “I’ll look thru this stuff. See if there’s anything else that might be keeping her here.”
Sam sits down at the desk with the journal. Silence settles over the room while they’re each engrossed their own tasks. Addison taken to searching through the paintings. “And with Piero,” Sam mutters, causing Addison to look at him.
“What?”
“We need to find a painting of Isabella,” Sam tells her, standing up. Addison shoots him a questioning look. “She cut off part of her finger and told Piero to grind it into the paint.”
“So, we have remains,” Addison breathes, flipping through the paintings. “Here.” Sam walks over to her and sees a crate with ‘Tivoli’ stamped on the side. “I bet this is it.” They pull the crate to the side and Sam uses a crowbar to open it. Inside was a painting of a dark haired woman.
“Sam, Ads,” Dean shouts. “Burn the journal!”
Sam grabs the painting out of the crate and throws it into the fire place. Addison grabs the lighter fluid out of the duffle bag and sprays it on the painting. Sam lights a match and throws it onto the painting. They stand back and watch as the painting burns.
“Who mixes their blood and bones into paint,” Dean questions as the Impala speeds down a dark two land highway. Sam was in his typically front seat. Addison had left the brothers, having to head down to Boston to retrieve Patrick’s journal. “No woman’s ever done that for me.”
Sam glances at Dean. “Is this you thanking me and Ads for not doing what you told us to do?”
“You know, if you guys would have burned the journal, then we wouldn’t know how to kill it, would we?”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Sam shifts. “You know…you were in that confessional a long time. Look, man, I’m just saying, I’m your brother, Dean. If you ever need to talk about anything with anybody, you got somebody right here next to you.”
“Okay.”
“I heard what Sister Mathias was saying about, you know, hiding pain by taking on a mission and I-I know that’s what you’re doing a little bit. And it’s okay. I mean, it’s fine. I get it. I’ve done it before too. But…I don’t buy for one second that the mark is a terminal diagnosis so don’t go making peace with that idea. There has to be a way. There will be a way and we will find it. That’s what we do. So, believe that,” Sam tells his older brother.
“Okay, Sammy.”
“You want to, uh, try that again like you mean it?”
“Okay.”
“You know there’s a woman who would mix her blood and bones into paint for you,” Sam says, shooting Dean a knowing look.
Dean rolls his eyes. “We both know that Ads wouldn’t cut a finger off for me. And I know what you’re trying to do so you can stop, okay. Me and Ads are fine. In fact, we’re-we’re back to normal. Well…normal for us, so you can back off and leave it alone.”
“Okay,” Sam replies. And despite what Dean had said, Sam knew that he wouldn’t leave Dean and Addison’s relationship or lack of one alone. Because seeing that Dean was tense and fidgety without Addison around, had just made Sam more convinced that Addison was the powerful force that Dean needed to keep the Mark of Cain in check.
Chapter 17: Inside Man
Chapter Text
“Sam! Ads!”
Addison’s eyes snap open. She sits up and looks around her bedroom. The TV was off. The book she had been reading was on the floor.
“Sam! Ads!”
Addison grabs the lavender blade from underneath her pillow and runs out of her bedroom. She runs into Sam in the hallway. Dean’s room was just down the hall from hers. Sam opens the door to find Dean asleep.
“No. No! No! No! No,” Dean exclaims in his sleep. He was clutching his right fist. The Mark of Cain was visible on his right forearm.
Addison lets out a relieved breath. “I’m going back to bed,” she tiredly tells him as Sam closes the door to Dean’s room.
Sam clears his throat. “Um, Ads, your, uh…” She looks at him, confused. He grabs the strap of the emerald nightie she was wearing and pulls it back onto her shoulder. “You were, um—”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Next time someone wakes me, there better be a monster I can stab,” she mutters, walking back into her bedroom. She closes the door behind her.
“Okay then,” Sam breathes.
Later that morning, Sam is sitting at one of the tables with his laptop in front of him. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, just, um…just be there. Yeah.” Footsteps grab his attention. “Gotta go.” He hangs up as Dean walks into the library with a cup of coffee. “Hey. How did you sleep?”
“Like a drunk baby. What do we got,” Dean questions, sitting down across from him.
“Uh, nothing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, uh, no weird deaths, no demon signs. There’s a kitsune working some truck stops outside of Boise, but Rudy’s on it, so…”
“All right. So, uh, snow day. I say we get drunk and shoot crap.”
Sam chuckles. “Yeah, except we do that every day.” He shifts. “Actually, I was thinking about seeing a movie.”
“Yeah, that could be cool.”
“It’s a French movie.”
“You mean like nudie French?”
“Even better. It’s about a mime that’s secretly a cockroach.”
Dean stares at him. “I-I don’t get it.”
“Dude, The New York Times said—”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Who cares.”
“All right, well…It’s playing in Wichita, so I might not be back till morning.”
“Well, I trust you. Make good choices. Ads going with you?”
“Uh, no. She wasn’t interested. You know, I mean…I don’t have to go alone…”
“It’s fine.”
“All right. Stay out of my room.”
“Totally.”
Sam stares at his older brother for a moment. “You know, uh, maybe you could take Ads out to dinner. I know she’s been wanting to try that new Italian place in town.”
Dean shoots him a disbelieving look. “I don’t need advice on how to deal with Ads.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, just take her to the new Italian place.”
“Rudy. Rudy,” Dean says, placing a piece of tape on the phone in Sam’s bedroom. “Hey, look. I know you can handle it, okay? I’m just saying that, uh, you know, if you needed a little assist, I could, uh, you know…” He grabs Sam’s pillow and sits on it. “All right. All right. All right. Chill out. Sorry, I asked. All right.” He chuckles. “You know me. I’m always good. Hey, I’m fan-fucking-tastic.” A throat clears and he looks up to find Addison standing in the doorway. “Talk later, Rudy.”
“Why are you sitting on Sam’s pillow,” Addison amusedly asks, walking into the room with a laundry basket filled with clean and neatly folded clothing.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to go with Sam to see that weird movie,” Dean replies as she sets the laundry basket down on Sam’s dresser.
“Hey,” Addison greets, poking her head into Sam’s room. She raises an eyebrow at seeing him pack a duffel bag. “Do we have a case?”
“Uh, no, I’m going to Wichita to attend a lecture,” Sam tells her.
“Fun. What’s it on? Maybe I’ll join you.”
“It’s a lecture on astrophysics. The universe and black holes. It’s actually pretty—”
“I’m good,” Addison interrupts. “Have fun. Oh, um, I’m doing laundry. Anything you want me to wash?”
“Ads, you know you don’t have to do my laundry.”
“I know. I’m being nice, Sam. Because we’re friends,” Addison points out. She grabs his clothes basket and shoots him a smile. “Have fun at your lecture.”
“It seemed boring,” Addison lies, wondering why Sam had lied to her. She softly smiles at Dean. “So, what did you want to do?” Dean smirks and looks at Sam’s bed. She laughs. “Yeah, no. I’m not having sex on Sam’s very uncomfortable bed.”
She walks out of Sam’s room. Dean sits there for a moment. He stands up and tosses the pillow back to its normal spot before going after her. He grabs her wrist and pulls her against his chest. His arm slides around her waist. “How about we have sex on my bed?”
Addison smirks. “No.”
“Okay. Your bed then.”
“No.”
A frustrated look crosses Dean’s face. “Ads—”
“Dean, you apologized and I forgave you. And we said the ‘I love you’s while no one was dying, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna sleep with you.”
“You’re not driving my car.”
“How about you just take me to dinner and we go from there?”
Addison shakes her head as she takes a seat at the bar next to Dean. Part of her had been hoping that Dean would take her to the new Italian place in town. And not the local dive bar that they visited regularly. “Hey, Donnie,” Dean greets as Donnie walks over to them.
“Hey, guys,” Donnie replies, setting a couple of coasters in front of them.
“I’ll do the, uh, Herve Villechaize.”
Addison lightly smiles. “I’ll do a glass of merlot.”
“You bet,” Donnie tells them and walks away.
“You know a new Italian place opened up,” Addison says, turning to face Dean.
Dean looks at her. “Ads, can you really picture us going to some fancy restaurant and eating a meal that costs way too much and doesn’t give you enough food?”
“It’s a family-owned Italian place, Dean. You don’t have to dress up.”
“Are you talking about Mama’s Place, Addison,” Donnie asks, setting the plate of nachos in front of Dean. An annoyed look crosses Dean’s face.
“Yes! Have you been?”
“Yeah. I took my wife last week for our anniversary.”
“How was it?”
“Great,” Donnie answers, setting the glass of wine in front of Addison. A beer is placed in front of Dean. “Great chicken parm. Wife had the lasagna and loved it.”
Addison lightly hits Dean on the arm. “See.”
“Boom! Money. Now. Loser,” a voice loudly says, causing them to turn. “Give me your cash. Now. Right now.”
“What’s up with the Abercrombie rejects,” Dean asks, wanting to talk about anything else.
“College kids slumming it,” Donnie replies.
“Slumming? What are you talking about? This is a nice joint, huh? You got those custom urinal pucks.”
“Come on, bitches. Who’s next? Twenty bucks a game. Twenty bucks,” the loud voice says.
Dean smirks. He messes up his hair before sliding out of the chair. He grabs his beer and walks over to the pool table. “Yo! Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll play.”
Addison sighs and pulls the plate of nachos towards her. “So, you and Dean, huh,” Donnie questions.
Addison shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Well, for what it's worth, I think you two would be good together,” Donnie says, then walks away. Addison grabs a nacho and takes a bite. Her gaze meets Dean’s and she shoots him a soft smile.
Addison bites her lip as she waits in the hallway outside the bathrooms. Dean had easily hustled the college kids while she sat and watched. “Ads?” Addison blinks and finds Dean standing in front of her. She leans up and kisses him. He pulls back. “Ads, I need to piss.”
“Fine,” Addison says, releasing her grip on him. Dean grabs her hand and tugs her into the bathroom with him. She leans against the door as he walks over to one of the urinals.
“How much did you have to drink,” Dean asks.
“Just the glass of wine.” He shoots a look over his shoulder. “And maybe one or two tequila shots, one of those frat guys brought me.”
“Yeah, I saw,” Dean replies, shaking his head.
Addison stares at his back. “Did it make you jealous?”
Dean flushes the urinal and tucks his cock back into his jeans before zipping up. He doesn’t answer as he washes his hands. Then he walks over to Addison. He places his hands on either side of her head and leans in close. “No.”
Addison wraps her arm around his neck. “No?”
“It wasn’t his ass you kept checking out.”
“I think you should take me home.”
Dean softly kisses her, pulling her away from the door at the same time. “Let’s settle up and head home.” Addison smiles and he smiles back at her. His arm is around her waist as they walk out of the bathroom. Dean frowns as they walk back into the bar. It was quiet and empty. His grip on Addison tightens as he notices Rowena sitting at the bar, drinking a glass of red wine.
“Dean and Addison,” Rowena greets.
“Rowena? What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this? I’m sorry. Did I say ‘nice girl’? I meant ‘evil skank.’”
“You say that like it’s an insult. But nice girls, they’re pathetic.” Rowena raises her glass of wine. “Here’s to evil skanks.”
Dean shoves Addison behind him as the frat guys appear out of nowhere. He holds out his hands. “Whoa, fellas. What did she do to you?”
One of the frat guys growls and lunges at Dean. He fights him off and grabs a pool cue. He raises it above his head, intending to stab the frat guy. But he stops. He remembered the others he had killed, when he had broken Dark Charlie’s arm. Dean tosses the pool cue to the side. He’s tackled by Donnie and the other frat guys. It takes him a few minutes, but he manages to knock them out.
“Dean,” Addison mutters as he pulls her close to him.
“Someone’s tougher than he looks,” Rowena says, pushing up her sleeves to reveal symbols painted on her skin.
“You have no idea,” Dean replies. Rowena starts chanting, and a purple light appears. Dean quickly turns his back to the witch and wraps himself around Addison. The purple light flies past them, not doing anything to them. Dean releases Addison and turns back to Rowena.
Rowena stares in disbelief. “Not possible.”
Dean pulls out a knife and stalks over to Rowena. He grabs her and pushes her onto the bar, knife pressed against the witch’s neck. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Saving my son,” Rowena answers.
Addison frowns, walking over to them. She may have been drunk, but she knew what she heard. “Son?”
“Crowley.”
Dean frowns. “Crowley Crowley?”
“My son is a king, a god…or he would be if you didn’t…you snap your fingers and he comes running like a wee lapdog,” Rowena tells them.
“Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a good influence on him. That’s why you need to die.”
“Well, sorry your little light show didn’t work.”
“Oh, I’ll try again.”
“What, you think I’m just gonna let you walk out of here?”
“I think you’re a hero. You could have killed those men, but you didn’t because they’re innocent. Cause you’re the good guy and you want them to live. But the spell I cast will devour them from the inside out like it did that girl. I’m the only one who can save them. What’s it going to be…Hero?”
“I’m gonna be sick,” Addison mutters and stumbles back towards the bathroom. Dean sighs.
Addison groans as she slowly opens her eyes. She was in her bedroom in the Bunker. She sits up and finds that she’s still wearing her clothes from the night before. She walks out of her room and heads towards the kitchen. “Morning,” Dean greets, walking over to her. He shoves the cup of black coffee into her hands and presses a soft kiss to the side of her temple.
“What happened last night,” Addison asks, taking a sip of coffee.
“You had way too many tequila shots from that frat guy,” Dean tells her.
Addison winces. “Yeah.” She shoots him a soft smile. “Sorry, I ruined our night.”
Dean frowns. “You don’t remember anything?”
“Things got super blurry after shot number six. I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?”
“No.”
Addison lets out a relieved breath. “That’s good.” She looks up at him. “Well, maybe we can have a do-over? One where I don’t get stupid drunk.”
“We’ll go to that Italian place you want to try.”
Addison softly smiles. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Addison leans up and kisses him. “I look forward to it.”
Dean smiles. “Me too.”
A short while later, Dean’s sitting at one of the tables in the library with a bowl of cereal. He looks up at hearing footsteps and finds Sam. “Hey,” Sam greets.
“Hey. How was the movie,” Dean asks.
“French. What about you? What’d you and Ads do last night?”
“Played some pool. It was kind of boring.”
Sam nods. “All right. I’m gonna clean up.”
“Yeah,” Dean replies and turns his attention back to his cereal.
Addison knocks on the door of Sam’s bedroom. She had been in the shower when he had arrived back at the Bunker. She was curious as to what he had been doing when he had left for the night. “Sam,” she asks, knocking on the door once more. “Can we talk?” She hears shuffling before the door opens. She frowns at seeing the upset look on his face. “Sam, are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, Ads,” Sam replies, forcing a smile.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, yeah. What did you want to talk about?”
“You know what, it’s not important, Sam,” Addison softly says, patting his arm. She shoots him a soft smile before walking away. Whatever Sam had been doing while he was gone had clearly upset him, and she didn’t want to push him on why he had lied.
Chapter 18: Book of the Damned
Chapter Text
Dean finds Addison in one of the Bunker’s storage rooms. Her hair was in a messy bun on top of her head, a pencil threaded through it. He quietly closes the door behind him and walks over to her. He slides an arm around her waist, and she jumps, turning around. He smirks. She lightly hits his chest. “Don’t do that,” she tells him.
Dean shrugs and kisses her. She returns the kiss, leaning into him. “What are you doing in here anyway?”
“Looking through everything…again,” Addison replies. “Hoping to find something new.”
“Have you?”
Addison sighs. “No.”
“Well, I need to tell you and Sam something that I found out,” Dean says, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the storage room.
Addison frowns. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine.”
Addison bites her lip as she walks with Dean into the library. He lets go of her hand before they sit down at the table where Sam was sitting. Sam was on his phone. “Yeah, uh, no one here by that name. Sorry,” Sam says, then hangs up. He hadn’t missed Dean holding Addison’s hand. “So, I’ve been checking through everything again, double-checking and triple-checking and—”
“The Mark is a curse,” Dean interrupts.
Sam scoffs. “Yeah, tell me about it.”
“No, Sam, it’s a…it’s an actual curse.”
Addison frowns. “What do you mean?”
“Crowley told me. Or rather, Rowena told him after she tried and failed to kill me.”
“When was this?”
Dean glances at her. “After you got super drunk from all those tequila shots that frat guy brought you.”
Realization crosses Addison’s face. “Oh. So, uh, what, uh, what exactly happened that night?”
“The Mark protected me. Rowena doesn’t really have a beef with me. She was pissed at Crowley because she thinks he’s going soft.”
Sam nods. “She’s not wrong.”
“Yeah, well, after he and Mommy Dearest got in a fight—”
“Mommy Dearest?”
“Rowena is Crowley’s mother.” Surprise crosses Sam’s and Addison’s faces. “More about that later. So, then he came and told me what she had said. The Mark is an actual curse. So, anyway, I’m sorry. I probably should’ve told you both that.”
“Yeah.”
Addison rubs a hand over her face. “I think I need to stop drinking tequila.”
“Maybe more moderation when it comes to tequila,” Dean tells her as Sam’s phone rings. He grabs it before the younger Winchester can. “Winchester Accounting. How may I help you?”
“Dean,” a familiar voice asks.
Dean frowns. “Charlie? What’s going on? Where are you?”
“Uh, uh, I’m exhausted and…and I’m bleeding. And I’m in a phone booth. A phone booth. I didn’t know these things existed outside of Bill and Ted’s…” Charlie trails off.
“Okay,” Dean says, putting the phone on speaker. “Hey, hey. Take a deep breath, kiddo. Uh, we’re all sitting here. Tell me what happened. Why are you bleeding?”
“I, uh, I got shot. Did you know dental floss works great on stitches? I only passed out twice, and I’m pretty sure my wound is now minty fresh,” Charlie tells them.
“Charlie, you probably need to go to a hospital,” Sam tells her.
“No, no, I’m fine. I just got to get to someplace safe. These guys are still after me.”
“Charlie, who’s after you,” Addison questions, exchanging a worried glance with Dean.
“Some southern fried d-bags. They’ve been after me since I dug up ‘The Book of the Damned.’”
Sam sits up. “You found it? Where?”
“After some near misses and some broken into museums, I found historical documents that led to a monastery in Spain. It burned down years ago, left for dead, but, uh, I had this hunch about it. Turned out I was right.”
“Okay, Charlie,” Dean begins. “What does it say about the Mark?”
“I have no fracking idea. The language it’s written in, I’ve never seen anything like it. I, uh, I found some research notes in the monastery crypt, though, by the Friar that burned it. ‘The Book of the Damned’ is a spell book for creating or undoing any kind of damnation there is. We translate this thing, I think we can get the Mark of Cain off you, Dean.”
“Charlie, you’re a genius.”
“A genius fugitive. I…These dudes following me, they are well-trained. One of them keeps talking about his family.”
“Did you get a name,” Addison asks.
“No clue. I-I-I spotted a tattoo on one of them. Might be a family crest. It seemed occulty. Soon as the book was out of the ground, they were all over me. I, uh, I don’t know how much more running I've got left in me. They’re tracking the book somehow.”
“All right, then we need to get you off the grid, Charlie,” Sam says. “Where are you right now?”
“Uh, just south of Des Moines.”
“Uh, okay, you know what,” Dean starts. “Our-our friend, Bobby, has a whole bunch of cabins scattered all around, places for hunters to crash. You know, it’s not much, but there’s some gear and lore books, stuff to keep you busy til we get there.”
“Okay, bring snacks. And every Men of Letters decoder ring there is. This book is old and scary, and I’ve never seen anything like it.”
After Dean hangs up, the trio gets to work on gathering up anything they think would come in handy. Addison walks into the library with a large metal box. “I found this the other day,” she says, opening the box and showing the interior to the boys. Numerous protection symbols were painted all over the interior. “Lead-lined and warded. If the book is being tracked, then this should take it off the grid.”
Addison smiles as she sits in the backseat of the Impala. She leans forward and exchanges a look with Sam. It had been ages since they had seen Dean in such a happy mood. Dean catches their amused looks. “What,” he asks.
“Nothing,” Sam replies, turning off the radio. “Nothing…we just haven’t seen you like this in a while, that’s all.”
“It’s a good song, man. Shut up.”
“Yeah, it’s—”
“Look, man, it has been one crap sandwich after another for the past few weeks, okay? You heard Charlie. We got a shot at fixing this thing, so if that don’t put gas in your tank, well…”
“If by ‘shot’ you mean a spell in a book that we can’t read that’s currently being tracked…”
“We’re due for a win, okay? Overdue. I’ll tell you another thing, if this actually does work, we’re gonna take some time off.”
Addison raises an eyebrow. “Are you talking about a vacation?”
Dean nods. “Mmhmm. And I’m not talking just like a weekend in Vegas or sitting in some crap motel watching pay-per-porn. No, I’m talking about a beach. Drinking cervezas, go for a swim, mingle with the local wildlife. When was the last time any of us was on a beach?”
Addison laughs. “A very long time ago, Dean.”
“Sand between our toes, Ads. Sand between our toes.”
“I want to go to Hawaii.”
Dean glances at her. “That involves getting on a plane.”
“No. I can just pop us over.”
“Nope. Last time I had that happened, I didn’t poop for a week.”
“Fine. Sam and I will go to Maui and enjoy spending time with the local wildlife.” Dean shoots her an annoyed look and turns the radio back on. Addison laughs and presses a soft kiss to Dean’s cheek. “We’ll find a place that makes everyone happy.” Neither of them notices the uncomfortable look that crosses Sam’s face.
It’s midday by the time the trio reaches the cabin. They gather their gear and walk into the cabin. Charlie was sitting at the table, passed out on top of a book. “Charlie,” Dean asks, walking towards their friend.
Charlie shoots up. “Merry Christmas!”
“Hey,” Dean says.
Charlie lets out a breath. She looks over the trio. “Were you followed?”
“No, no.”
“Charlie, how do you feel,” Addison asks, setting her bags on the table. She places a hand on Charlie’s arm and Charlie shoots her a thankful smile as the warmth spreads over her.
“Thanks, Ads,” Charlie replies. “Um, I may have just passed out, but better.”
“Where’s the book, Dean questions, looking around the cabin. He sets the duffle bag on the floor by the table.
“Okay, here’s what I’ve learned so far. About seven hundred years ago, a nun locked herself away after having visions of darkness. After a few decades squirreled away by herself, she emerged with this,” Charlie tells them, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a leather-bound book. She hands it to Sam. Addison moves between him and Dean to take a closer look at the book. “Each page is made out of slices of her own skin.” Addison wrinkles her nose and looks at Charlie with disbelief. “I told you, it’s eekish. According to the notes I found, it’s been owned and used by cults, covens, and the Vatican had it for a while.” Dean carefully takes the book out of Sam’s hands and flips through it. “There’s a spell inside that thing for everything. Talking some black mass, dark magic, end-of-times nastiness. As far as what language it’s written in, I think it’s some kind of…uh…” Charlie trails off as she realizes that Dean had moved away from them while he was looking through the book.
“Dean,” Sam snaps. “Dean!”
“What,” Dean asks, looking up from the book. Sam, Charlie, and Addison exchange worried looks. He closes the book and hands it back to Charlie. “I don’t think it’s a good idea that I touch this. I’ll go get the rest of our crap.”
Dean walks out of the cabin without waiting for a response. Addison follows after him. She finds Dean standing in front of the Impala’s trunk. “Hey,” she softly says, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You okay?”
“Ads, I…” Dean trails off. He’s unsure of how to voice how he was feeling. The draw the book had on him.
“We’ll go to Cancun,” Addison says. He meets her gaze. “We can drive there. You can check out the local wildlife—”
“I only said that for Sam,” Dean interrupts.
Addison softly smiles. She moves closer to him. “Then you can join me in visiting some of the Mayan ruins.”
“We go on vacation and you’re gonna make me do nerd stuff with you?”
“Among other things that we would need our own room for.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Good.”
“Okay, I got a pretty good look at his tattoo. It’s something like this,” Charlie says, walking over to where Dean and Addison were sitting on the couch. File boxes were sitting on the coffee table. Sam was in the small bedroom, with the Book of the Damned. It had been silently decided to keep the book away from Dean as much as they could. Charlie hands Dean a piece of paper. It was of a family crest that had some Eastern European vibes to it.
“The douche clan. Got it,” Dean replies. He lifts the lid off a box. “Well, this is everything the Men of Letters had on occult families, so there should be something in here.”
Addison shoots Charlie a reassuring smile. “We’ll find them.”
Charlie walks around the couch and towards the bedroom. “Sam, got anything,” she asks.
“Maybe,” Sam replies, trying to ignore how close Addison and Dean were sitting. He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah, it’s all in an obscure Sumerian dialect. Actually found a rough match for it in this book.”
“Great.”
“I thought so too. But I’ve been translating, but none of the translated words make any sense. It’s all just gibberish. I mean, maybe it’s in a different dialect?” Sam holds out his notebook to Charlie and she takes it.
“No, no, no. You’re right, but I-I-I think…I think this is in code.”
Sam scoffs. “An entire book of unreadable text that’s also in code. Great.”
“And you call yourselves nerds. Come on,” Dean loudly says, glancing over his shoulder at them. “You got this.”
Charlie nods, handing the notebook back to Sam. “He’s right. Let’s get our Alan Turning on. Decrypt this bitch.”
Sam notices Dean staring at the book. Addison places a hand on Dean’s back, and he tears his gaze from the book. “You know what, Charlie,” Sam says, grabbing the lockbox on the bed. “Why, uh, um, why don’t we stick with my notes for a little bit? This book is literally making my eyes hurt.”
Sam puts the book in the lockbox and closes the lid. He glances into the living room. Addison was rubbing Dean’s back. He knew it was bound to happen. Especially considering the feelings the two of them had for each other. And Sam knew it was bound to happen, given that he had been pushing them together. But he also wasn’t going to deny that seeing them together made him a bit uncomfortable.
“Okay, even the Bletchley Circle couldn’t crack this thing,” Charlie announces, walking through the cabin while she scrolls through her laptop. She sits down in the armchair next to the couch where Dean and Addison are sitting. “I’ve tried every cryptographic algorithm there is. Goose egg.”
“Well, maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” Dean replies as Sam joins the group. “Those people following you…all kinds of wrong. Talking multi-generational, centuries-old wrong. The Styne family. Men of Letters’ files have them dated back to the early 1800s. They used spells to create disease, to destabilize markets. Hell, they even helped the Nazis before they came into power and they profited from all of it.”
“So, they’re like the supernatural Du Ponts?”
“Yeah, basically,” Addison replies. She pays no attention as Dean places a hand on her thigh. An action that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sam. “All the spells that they used came from a book of ‘unspeakable evil.’ A book that they lost about a hundred years ago.”
“Okay, so they’re bad,” Sam argues. “So what. We faced worse.”
“Sam, read the file,” Dean counters. “The way the book works is when you use it, there is a negative reaction. I’m talking biblical negative. Dark magic always comes with a price. We know that. We’ve been down that road before.”
“Well, let’s at least translate it,” Charlie suggests. “See what it says.”
Dean shakes his head, standing up. “You guys don’t understand. The book’s been calling out to me ever since I laid eyes on it, okay? Calling out to the Mark. I can hear it like it’s alive. It wants me to use it, but not for good. Look, I wanted it to be the answer too, okay? I really did. But we have got to get rid of that. Burn it, bury it, I don’t give a fuck. We’ll just have to find another way to fix the Mark.”
Sam tenses. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
“So you’re giving up,” Charlie questions.
“No, I’m not giving up. Charlie, I don’t have a death wish. Okay, even if I did, I can’t die. Not with this thing on my arm. What I can do is I can fight it as long as I can until—”
“Until what,” Sam interrupts. “Tell me. Until what, Dean? Until I watch you become a demon again? Until then? I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”
“Well, then, you’ll just have to lock me up. Bind me to the bunker like you guys did last time.”
“That doesn’t solve anything,” Charlie replies.
“Look, just let us translate the book, okay,” Sam pleads. “If there’s a cure, we’ll do it and deal with the consequences later. I can’t lose you.”
Dean stares at his younger brother. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.”
“You change your mind on that, 'cause that’s not what you said last time.”
“Oh, come on, man. You know I didn’t mean that.”
“This is my cross to bear, Sam. Mine. And that book is not the answer. Now we've got to destroy it before it falls into the wrong hands and that includes me!” Dean shakes his head and takes a breath. “I’m gonna go for a drive. Uh, Charlie, we forgot to pick up your snacks.”
“Dean, look—”
“We’ll figure out another way,” Dean interrupts, grabbing his jacket. “And Sam, I’ll get my vacation. But not today. Not like that.”
Silence settles over the cabin. Sam turns to Addison. If anything, he knew that Dean would listen to Addison. He always did. “Ads, maybe you—” he begins.
“No,” Addison softly interrupts, standing up. “I’m with Dean on this one. That kind of magic…Sam, it always bites us in the ass.”
“You did the last descendant spell, Ads, and nothing bad has happened to you,” Sam argues, growing desperate.
“Yet. Nothing bad has happened yet,” Addison corrects. She grabs her jacket and walks out of the cabin. Dean was sitting in the Impala. She could hear the soft rumbling of the engine. She climbs into the passenger seat and Dean puts the Impala in reverse. “Were you waiting for me?”
“No,” Dean lies as they head down the gravel road to the two-lane highway.
“Liar,” Addison amusedly replies. He shoots her a soft smile. And she can’t help but smile back at him.
A short drive later, they arrive at a nearby Gas ’N Sip. Addison lightly smiles at the man behind the cash register while Dean nods. Addison heads to the back of the store and grabs a couple of bottles of water. She turns and bumps into a man who is standing way too close. “Sorry,” she tells the man, forcing a smile.
“Ads, let’s go,” Dean loudly says from the front of the small store.
Addison moves to go around him, but the man grabs her arm. “Let go of me,” she demands. The man starts to yank her towards the front of the store. Addison throws one of the bottles at the man’s face. Startled, the man releases his grip on her and Addison takes the opportunity to run to the front of the store.
She doesn’t get far. The man grabs a fistful of her hair and yanks her back. Addison winces at the pain. He grabs her right arm and twists it behind her back. The man leads her to the front of the store. Another man had an arm wrapped around Dean’s neck while another arm was twisted behind his back. A third man, this one wearing a suit, was standing in front of Dean with a knife in his hand.
“This the girl,” the man holding Addison questions.
“No,” the man with the knife answers, turning back to Dean. “Now…who might you be?” The man notices the Mark of Cain on Dean’s forearm. “Where’d a back road nothing like you get their hands on something like that?”
“What’s it to you, Mr. Styne,” Dean coldly asks.
“My friends call me Jacob,” the man with the knife replies.
“Well, I ain’t your friend.”
“Those wouldn’t happen to be treats for a redheaded little gal, now, would they? Well, another redhead gal,” Jacob asks. Dean refuses to answer. Glaring at the Styne. “Y’all hid the book, didn’t you? Lead-lined little number, I’m betting.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“You don’t? See that?” Jacob motions behind the counter. “That man back there, well he said the same thing as all the others at truck stops and gas stations up and down the way. Nobody had seen that redhead girl. And then a man bearing that Mark comes in here, to me. Well, there’s coincidence and then there’s just providence. See The Book of the Damned it wants to be found. It wants to come home. Let me guess. You want to use it to get that gift off your arm, don’t you? Power is wasted on the weak. Now the book…can remove that Mark. But you mess around with that, you’re gonna do far more harm than good. So, why don’t you do the right thing here, boy, and tell me where the book is.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll tell you,” Dean replies, then mumbles something.
Jacob frowns. “One more time. I didn’t hear you,” he says, moving closer to Dean.
“I said…” Dean headbutts Jacob, catching the man holding him off guard. The grip on him is released and he dives to the ground to grab his gun. Addison throws her head back, smacking the chin of the man holding her. He lets go of her and she grabs the lavender blade out of her boot. She stabs the man under the chin. Gunshots ring out. Addison tightens her grip on the lavender blade as she pulls it out of the man’s head. His eyes are wide as he stumbles back. The gunshots stop. The man Dean was shooting falls to the ground. Jacob Styne had run out of the gas station during the melee.
Dean stands up as Addison walks over to him. He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, only to find that it’s broken. Addison pulls out her phone and shakes her head at seeing that it is dead.
“You okay,” Dean questions, walking over to her.
“I’m fine,” Addison automatically answers, rubbing the back of her head. She shoots him a reassuring smile. “We need to go.”
The drive back to the cabin is a tense one. They were both anxious. They were hoping that there were no other Stynes. Dean stops the Impala in front of the cabin. He’s barely turned it off before Addison jumps out and runs to the cabin. Charlie was kneeling in front of the fire, stoking it. Sam was sitting at the table, looking through what he had written down. “What’s going on,” Charlie questions, standing up.
“The Stynes found us,” Addison breathes as Dean walks into the cabin behind her. His hand brushes her back, reassuring her.
“Those douches are all jacked up too,” Dean continues.
“What are you talking about,” Sam questions, looking between Dean and Addison.
“I emptied a full clip into one of them before the son of a bitch went down,” Dean explains. He grabs a cup off the coffee table. He knew it was filled with holy oil. He throws it into the fire.
“Dean, what are you doing with the holy oil?”
“Sam, the book has a cure for the Mark,” Addison says, causing Sam and Charlie to look at her. “But-but curing the mark comes with a price. A bad one.” She glances at Dean as they hear a car pull up outside. “One that we’re not comfortable with paying. So, we’re going to destroy the book.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“It’s calling to me, Sam, okay,” Dean explains. “I can hear it. It’s calling to the Mark. It wants me to take the book and run away with it. Burn it now.” Addison pulls out the lavender blade as Dean and Charlie pull out their respective guns. “Sam, burn it now!”
A body flies through the window and grabs Dean. Another body flies through the other window and grabs Charlie. Addison runs over to Charlie as Sam runs into the bedroom to grab the lockbox with the book. Addison stabs the Styne in the back. The door of the cabin flies open and she turns to see Jacob. She pulls her blade out and starts towards the Styne. Dean shoves the body off of him and shoots Jacob. Nothing happens.
Addison runs over to him; her arm raised and ready to stab Jacob. His hand shoots out and grabs her by the throat. The lavender blade slips from her grip. She claws at the hand as gunshots ring out. Jacob releases his grip on her and she falls to the ground. The Styne walks towards the fireplace. Addison rolls onto her side just in time to see Jacob fall to the ground, dead. With a knife sticking out of his neck and Sam kneeling in front of the fireplace.
Addison yawns as she walks through the quiet Bunker. Everyone else was asleep. Well, she hoped they were all asleep. She had little desire to explain why she was up at two in the morning. She didn’t want to talk about the flash of terror she had when Jacob Styne had grabbed her by the throat. She shakes her head as she enters the war room. Empty beer bottles and pizza boxes were sitting on the table. She gets to work on picking up things.
“What are you doing?”
Addison glances over her shoulder to see Dean standing in the doorway. “I couldn’t sleep,” she softly says. “So, I decided to pick up things here.”
“You know, we could just make Sam do it in the morning,” Dean amusedly tells her.
“Yeah, but I’m not listening to him bitch about it.”
“Yeah, he would do that.”
Neither of them is aware of how they’ve been moving towards each other until then. Dean reaches up and brushes her hair back. His fingers trail down her cheek and to her neck. His touch is gentle. “I’m fine,” Addison reassures.
“I know,” Dean replies before pressing his lips against hers. The kiss is soft and slow. His hand travels down her arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Her back hits the table, and he starts to lift her onto it but she places a hand on his chest, stopping him. “Ads—”
“We’re not fucking on the table,” Addison interrupts. She starts to walk out of the room, but turns back to look at him. She softly smiles. “You coming?”
Chapter 19: The Werther Project
Chapter Text
Addison raises an eyebrow as she walks around the makeshift RV lot. Vampires had been living there. Now, she was looking for Dean. She walks into one of the RVs and finds Dean wiping the blood off his machete. “So…I managed to get one,” she says, looking around the RV. Blood was everywhere. “And you managed to get all the others.”
Dean smirks, shoving the machete into the holster on his hip. “What can I say? I’m just that good.”
“Yeah, sure, you tell yourself that,” Addison amusedly replies. She starts to walk out of the RV when Dean grabs her arm and pulls her against his chest. His lips are on hers. The machete falls out of her hand. His hand is on her waist. She’s unaware that they’ve moved until her back hits a fridge. He unbuttons the top of her jeans and slides a hand in. She gasps, pulling back. “Dean, wha-what…” She trails off when he applies pressure to her clit. “Fuck.”
Dean smirks. His lips hover over hers. He can feel her tightly clutching his shoulder as he slides two fingers into her warmth. Her breath hitches. Her head thumps against the wall. He picks up his pace. He could tell that she was close. He curls his fingers inside of her. She arches her back, letting out a soft moan. She could feel his breath on her face.
“Dean,” Addison breathes. Her body shudders with pleasure.
Dean pulls his hand out of her jeans. He pushes his bulge against her. “We’re going to go back to the Bunker and we’re gonna spend the next day in my bed.”
Addison stares at him. There was something in his gaze that told her he meant what he said. He sets her down and walks out of the RV, leaving her standing there. She fixes her jeans and picks up her machete before walking out of the RV. She finds Dean looking through a refrigerator. “Dean,” she begins.
“Hey, jackpot,” Dean says, tossing her a beer can. Addison manages to catch the beer, dropping her machete for the second time that evening.
“Dean! Ads!”
They turn to see Sam running up to them with a machete in hand. “Hey,” Dean greets his younger brother, holding up a beer can. Addison shakes her head in disbelief.
“Hey,” Sam replies, looking between them. He takes in the vampire corpses around them. “What happened? What is this?”
“I know, right? Seven vamps total. Ads took one and I took the rest. So six. Solo. I think that’s gotta be a personal best.”
“You guys couldn’t have waited?”
“For what?”
Sam stares at him in disbelief. “For what?”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on, man. We can handle it. We did handle it. I handled it.”
“What if you couldn’t?”
“But I did. It’s done. Come on, man. It’s the only way I can take the edge off. I’m sorry. I don’t always like to wait around for you, especially with you looking at me like that all the time.”
“Look at you like what?”
“Like that,” Dean points out. Sam frowns. “Like I’m some sort of a-a-a diseased killer puppy. You know what, man? I’m sweaty and I’m covered in vamp juice. Can we just talk about this later? I’d like to get back to the bunker, get my buzz on, and, uh, you know, pass out watching Speed 2 Cruise Control. We cool?”
“Cool,” Sam forces out as Dean walks away without waiting for an answer. He looks over at Addison, who softly smiles and shrugs at him.
Dean wakes with a start. Addison was asleep next to him, face buried in the pillow with her back facing him. Her soft snoring filled his bedroom. His plans for the previous night were thwarted when Addison had turned him down, saying that she was tired. If she hadn’t fallen asleep within the first five minutes of Speed 2, he would’ve been annoyed with her. The humming from the Mark was slowly growing. The scars on her back from their time in Purgatory were slowly fading. Her hair was longer now. While he thought she was cute with shorter hair, he had always secretly preferred her hair long.
He rolls onto his side and pulls her against his chest. He drops a kiss to her shoulder. He runs a hand down her side. “Morning,” Addison sleepily mutters, rolling over to face him. His hand slides under the tank top she was wearing. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”
“It’s fine, Ads,” Dean reassures, before pressing his lips against hers. The kiss is soft and slow. Addison presses close to him. She could feel his erection pressed against her stomach.
Addison pulls back. “As much as I would love to continue this, I have to pee,” she softly says, patting his chest. She sits up and starts to climb out of the bed.
Dean grabs her arm and she looks at him. He had been intending to convince her to stay in bed, but the words had fallen silent in his throat. The scar on her right shoulder was new. So was the light scar on her right cheek.
He presses the First Blade against her cheek and draws it down. She winces.
“I thought you couldn’t get hurt,” Dean says.
“I can get hurt. I just can’t die,” Addison replies. “Most of the time, I heal instantly and there’s no scar. Certain things…seem to hurt me like anything else.”
Dean lets go of her and moves to the end of the bed. He runs a hand over his face. “Like the First Blade.”
“And the lavender blades.” Addison climbs off the bed and moves to stand in front of him. “Hey.” He looks up at her. “You weren’t yourself.”
“Ads—”
“You’re not going to sit here and blame yourself for something that happened when you were a demon. Okay?” Addison leans down and softly kisses him. “I love you.”
Dean grasps her hips and pulls her onto his lap. “I love you too,” he replies before pressing his lips against hers. His hand slides under her tank top and strokes the soft skin.
Addison pulls back. “I still have to pee,” she amusedly tells him, standing up. She presses a quick kiss to his lips then walks out of his bedroom. Dean lets out a groan and falls back onto his bed.
A short while later, Addison walks into the Bunker’s library, freshly showered and wearing clean clothes. Dean was sitting at a table with his laptop in front of him. “You know anything about the St. Louis suicide house,” he questions.
Addison frowns. “I think my dad may have mentioned it. A house in St. Louis where like three people committed suicide at the same time. They hadn’t lived there very long when they did it.”
“Yeah.” He holds up a notepad. “Couldn’t find Sam, but I found this.”
Addison takes the notepad. “You grabbed an address from etching?”
“Yep,” Dean confirms, closing his laptop. He stands up. “Sam’s doing this job on his own to get back at me. So, we’re going to go give him backup.”
It’s midday by the time they catch up with Sam. He walks away from the two-story house to where he had parked the beat-up car. Dean walks down the street with Addison behind him. The climb into Sam’s car the same he does. “Hey ya, Sammy,” Dean greets as Sam looks between them. “How’s the case?”
“What are you guys doing here,” Sam asks.
“Well, it looks like we’re, uh, we’re here to save your sack,” Dean replies. He’s met with two incredulous looks. He clears his throat. “Look, you were right. Okay? Me and Ads shouldn’t have gone off like we did. It was stupid.”
“And?”
“And selfish. It was a douche move. If you’re doing this case by yourself to teach me a lesson, you don’t have to, okay?”
Sam sighs. He knew it was the closest he would get to an apology from Dean. “How’d you find me?”
“Ah. I, uh, took an etching off your notepad,” Dean explains, holding up the notepad. “Then I decided to take a crack at the St. Louis suicide house.”
“So you know about it?”
“Family moves into a long vacant house in the seventies. Then a week later, three of them commit suicide. Only person who didn’t die was the teenage daughter. The house is still in her name,” Addison answers. “I’m assuming she’s the one who almost made you an eunuch.”
“Here’s what I don’t get,” Dean continues. “A cold case is one thing, but…this is subzero. I mean, there’s nothing even in our wheelhouse, unless you know something we don’t.”
“Yeah, um, that long vacant home used to be a Men of Letters chapter house. Remember Magnus,” Sam asks.
“You mean the dickwad ex-Men of Letters that tried to make a zoo exhibit out of me and Ads,” Dean replies. “Yeah.”
“Before he was expelled, he built Werther, a magic box with a deadly alarm system. Werther is buried somewhere in that house. It was supposed to have been guarded, but I’m guessing that plan went out the window when Abaddon massacred the entire membership in ’58.”
“And then the house stayed in limbo until some lucky family brought it,” Dean concludes.
“Werther’s a time bomb and it needs to be defused. Not only is this in our wheelhouse, it’s our responsibility.”
Dean stares at his younger brother. “Our responsibility?”
“We’re Men of Letters. It’s our legacy.”
“Well, hey, if you say this is a case, we’re in, if you’ll have us,” Dean tells him.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”
“Alright, then.” Dean turns to Addison. “Ads, how about you head up to the house and do some distracting?”
Addison rolls her eyes. “Saw that coming a mile away,” she mutters, opening the back door.
“Maybe you both should go distract while I sneak in,” Sam suggests. “It’ll be easier if you’re both distracting.”
Addison shakes her head as she climbs out of the car. Dean stares at Sam for a moment then climbs out and follows after her. He quickly catches and drapes an arm over her shoulders. “I think you should go first,” he tells her as they near the house.
Addison snorts. “That’s because you don’t want your dick shot.”
“Damn straight,” Dean replies. “If my dick gets shot off, then I can’t fuck you. And I know that would disappoint you, Ads.”
“Yeah, okay,” Addison amusedly says, walking up the stairs with him. Dean eyes the mail slot with distrust.
The door is yanked open and they’re greeted by a woman in her early sixties with a gun in her hands. “What did I say,” she snaps.
Addison holds up her hands while Dean moves behind her. “Uh…” Addison says.
“You’re not…Fella tried to…” the woman trails off. “What do you want?”
“You saw him,” Addison asks, exchanging a relieved look with Dean. “Oh, please tell us you did.”
Dean clears his throat. “My name is Dwight Twilley and this is my wife, Jackie. We’re with the neighborhood watch. We’re-we’re looking into a few recent break-ins. And if you saw the guy and you-you could give a description, it would be lightly helpful. If we could - if we could just have a minute of your time?”
The woman stares at them, then opens the door. Addison and Dean walk into the house. “Uh, tall, white fella,” the woman says, closing the door behind them.
“Uh huh,” Dean replies, looking around the house.
“Pretty hair.”
“Mmhmm.”
“This is a very nice house…” Addison trails off, looking at the woman with a soft smile.
“Suzie.”
“Suzie. Do you live alone or is there a mister?”
“Just me and Gus?”
“Gus?” Suzie raises her revolver. “Oh.”
A kettle starts to whistle and Suzie heads to the kitchen with Dean and Addison close behind. Suzie turns off the kettle and grabs a couple of cups from the cabinet. Dean motions and Addison notices Sam down the hallway.
Addison clears her throat. “So, uh, Suzie, even with Gus, I bet it must get pretty lonely around here.”
“Yeah, well, I’m used to being alone,” Suzie replies. She turns to them with tea cups in hand.
“No, no. We’re fine, thanks,” Dean replies. Neither Dean nor Addison misses Sam slipping through a door that led to the basement.
“Been alone here since, uh, ’80? After my family died, my Aunt Pauline moved in. She took care of me, raised me for a few years. Then well…”
Addison frowns. “What happened to your aunt?”
“Well…I told her not to go into the basement. No one goes in the basement,” Suzie says.
Dean frowns. “What’s in the basement, Suzie?” A faraway look appears on Suzie’s face. “Ma’am, you okay?” Suzie suddenly pulls out her gun and aims it at them. “Oh! Whoa! Suzie!”
“My social skills may be rusty, but I’m no idiot. Doorbell hasn’t rung in months and three visitors in one hour,” Suzie replies, glaring at them. “One breaking in and the other two asking all sorts of questions about—”
“We told you,” Addison interrupts. “We’re with the neighborhood watch. We—”
“Yeah, yeah, neighborhood watch. Right. Either of you seen this house? There’s only one thing in here worth getting at and it sure as hell ain’t me. You came for the box. Whoever left that Godforsaken thing down there…I knew someday, someone would come for it. I swore never to let that happen. He’s downstairs, isn’t-isn’t he?”
“He’s my brother,” Dean confesses. “And we’re here to help you.”
“You call him up here. Now! You call him up here! Now!”
“Sam,” Dean calls. “Sammy! She wants you up here, now!”
“No! No! Get out! Get out! Out! Out! You bastards,” Suzie screams at them.
“Okay, okay,” Addison quickly says, pushing Dean towards the front door.
“You let it out,” Suzie shouts. A green smoke appears out of nowhere. It’s Suzie in the eyes before turning to Dean and Addison. The smoke hits them each in the eyes.
“Dean, Ads,” Sam shouts, running into the kitchen. He holds up his hands at seeing Suzie aim her gun at him. “Hey, hey, hey, hey. Take it easy.”
“You have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Put the gun down. We can talk about this, okay?”
Suzie stares at the trio. “What’s that? Oh my God.”
“What’s wrong with her,” Dean questions.
“I don’t know,” Sam replies.
Suzie aims her gun at them. “Go,” Dean orders, pushing Sam out of the kitchen. He grabs Addison and pulls her out of the kitchen just before a gunshot goes off. Dean lets go of Addison and turns to his younger brother. “What are you doing, huh? You don’t have a plan. You don’t have a defense.”
A door slams. Sam moves around Dean and Addison. “Suzie,” he says, running towards the sound. Addison sighs and turns. She frowns. She was no longer in the very cluttered house. She was standing outside. The area was hilly with grass and rocks. There were no trees.
“What the hell,” Addison mutters, looking around. “Dean! Dean! Sam!”
Addison slowly starts walking. She wasn’t sure where she was going. She knew where she was. She had been there once. When she had been attending Oxford for a semester as part of a study abroad program. She had needed to see the area. The one area where the only photo of her with her mother was taken.
“Addison.”
Addison turns and freezes. Patrick Sloan was standing there. Looking exactly like she had last seen him. “Dad?” She shakes her head. “No, no, no. You’re not real.”
“Does it really matter if I’m real or not?”
“Yes,” Addison snaps. “Because you’re dead. Because I shot you. Because I watched you die. I salted and burned your bones. You’re just what that green smoke wants me to see. It-it wants to distract me—”
“Distract you from what,” Patrick questions.
“From helping Sam. Why am I here? Why this place?”
“Because this is the last place where you felt like someone genuinely cared about you. Where you felt like you had a friend who didn’t lie to you. Where you were truly happy.”
Addison shakes her head. “That’s not true. Sam and Dean are—”
“Sam left you to rot in purgatory for a year,” Patrick cuts her off. He moves closer to her. “And you’re so fucked up that you slept with Dean when he was a demon. They don’t care about you.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? They need you and you’re right there. Every. Single. Time. But the moment you need them…they are nowhere to be found. They don’t care about you, Addison. And you know it. But you refuse to admit it to yourself."
“That’s not true,” Addison softly repeats.
“Why are you lying to yourself, Addison? Every time you leave or go missing, they don’t look for you. Dick Roman has you kidnapped and they didn’t look for you.”
“Dean found me.”
“Only because Dick Roman had you with him. Dean was hell bent on revenge. He didn’t care about finding you. Just like he didn’t try to look for you after the apocalypse.”
“He made a promise to Sam.”
“So? Promises can be broken. How about when Gadreel kidnapped you? Dean didn’t look for you then. He only stumbled upon you while looking for Gadreel. And let’s not get into how Sam has left you behind when he didn’t need you anymore. How he has no problem putting you out of his mind. He did when he left you in purgatory. When he left you on Christmas Eve.” Patrick reaches into his jacket and pulls out a knife. He holds the hilt out to her. “Stop putting yourself through this misery, Addison. You may be asleep out there, but in here, you can stop the misery.”
Addison’s hand wraps around the hilt and she takes the knife. A tear rolls down her cheek. She moves closer to Patrick. “Thing is, Dad,” she softly begins, shoving the knife into Patrick’s chest. “I can’t die.”
Addison looks around and lets out a relieved breath, seeing that she was back in the house. “Ads!” She turns around to find Dean. He steps forward and grabs the broken bottle out of her hand. Something she hadn’t realized she had been holding. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Addison says.
Dean grabs her hand. “Let’s go find Sam.” Addison nods and follows Dean down to the basement. They find Sam kneeling in front of what looks like an old safe. He was holding his arm above a bowl, letting blood drip into it. “Sam! Hey! Hey, hey! Sammy, whatever you’re seeing, it’s-it’s a trick. Okay? It’s not real.”
“Dean,” Sam questions.
Dean kneels next to him. “Yeah.” Sam starts to collapse. “Hey, no.” Dean lightly slaps his younger brother’s face. “No. Hey! Hey!”
“Get away from me,” Sam argues, raising the knife.
Addison quickly kneels on the other side of Sam. “Sam, let go of the knife.”
“No, don’t! Don’t,” Sam says, trying to keep Dean from getting the knife. His eyes were growing heavy. “It’s the only way. It needs legacy blood. Enough to take a life.”
Dean grabs the knife. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t have to come from just one legacy, does it? If it needs more blood, it can have mine.” He draws the knife across his forearm and holds it above the bowl.
Addison reaches over and places a hand on Sam’s forearm. A soft light emits from her hand. Dean glances at her. “He’ll be fine,” she reassures. A click signals that the safe was unlocked. “I think it’s had enough.” She reaches over and heals the cut on Dean’s arm. He shoots her a thankful look, and she softly smiles back.
“Let’s find out what’s in this bitch,” Dean says, reaching forward to open the now unlocked safe.
Addison finds Dean in the bunker’s garage, standing in front of a toolbox. After destroying the box, the trio had made their way back to the bunker, like they usually did. She stands there for a moment, watching as he cleans the tools. “So that box made me see my dad,” she says, walking up to him. “In the area where the only photo I had of me and mom was taken.”
Dean sets down the wrench. “I didn’t know you had a photo of your mom.”
Addison shrugs. “I lost it a long time ago. What did you see?”
“Benny in Purgatory.”
“How close were you to…”
“Pretty close. You?”
“Same.”
Dean moves closer to her. “So, uh, the other night…”
Addison amusedly smiles. “Yeah?”
“You fell asleep.”
“Mmhmm.”
“You gonna fall asleep anytime soon?”
“No.”
“Good,” Dean says before leaning down and kissing her. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses close to him.
Rubyjseok on Chapter 1 Wed 08 Jan 2025 08:44AM UTC
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somedaydreamer22 on Chapter 9 Sat 12 Apr 2025 02:50AM UTC
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