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Somehow Supernatural

Summary: What happens when you somehow end up in the Supernatural universe? What happens when you're somehow special in the Supernatural universe? Read on to see the chaos that ensues.

Warnings: poc!character, gn!character, teen!character, heavy cursing, Winchester madness, Dean needs a warning just for himself

Word Count: 2018

Chapter One: What The Fuck and Where The Fuck

Do you ever feel like time is going slow? I usually don’t because I’m a fast-paced type of person, but lately, I’ve felt like time has come to a standstill. It feels like my 10th-grade year ended three months ago when it’s only been three weeks. I feel like I haven’t seen my friends in 2 weeks and not the mere two days that it actually has been.

I don’t know why my world feels like it’s spinning at half the speed it usually does. Maybe it’s because I’m excited? In August, I’ll start my junior year. My first year in high school that I’ll be an upperclassman. Maybe I’m happy at the prospect of almost being done with high school. Or… is time not going by because I’m not having fun? I haven’t been completely bored, but it hasn’t been the best summer I’ve ever experienced. 

Is there something waiting for me in the near future? Did my world slow because I have something to look out for?

I know this sounds really dramatic. Some 16-year-old goof with an overactive imagination. Perhaps that’s it… but something in me can’t let it go. 

Welcome to my thoughts! They never end, even when I’m asleep. They take me down dark and gorey paths and also wildly stupid would-never-happen-in-a-million-years paths as well. All this shit in my mind flying around at lightspeed is probably why I’m such a good writer. Or, at least I think I’m a good writer. And my mom, but do moms really count? 

I come up with things that are unique and cool. Because I’m a unique and cool person. I don’t know who I’m talking to but I feel like I’m talking to someone so instead of letting you suffocate in the hornets nest that is my mind, I’ll introduce myself.

I’m… actually I don’t want you to know my name, but I’ll tell you other things. I’m 16 and I like anime, and colorful stuff, and reading, and writing, and basically anything. I’m flexible like that. I can deal with people until I run out of battery like most introverted people. I have a severe superiority complex that I like to pretend isn’t a thing, but it’s definitely a thing. It doesn’t affect how I interact with people, but since you’re in my head, um, you’ll see all of it. I thought I’d give you a heads-up.

Anyway, what are you doing in my head? Who are you? It may be my superiority complex talking here but… am I some special being that’s about to save the universe or something?

…I’ll take your silence as a no. 

Could you talk to me though? It’d make me feel much less lonely and a lot less crazy. 

…

…

…

Oh my god, what am I doing? There’s no one in my head. There’s no one listening to my thoughts. I am quite literally just a goofy teenager that thinks they’re gonna gain superpowers but, let’s be honest, what I really gained was a mental illness. 

That’s what this is, isn’t it? I have split personalities like Tobias Hankel in Criminal Minds. Am I gonna start killing people because my alter ego demands it of me? Am I gonna go to prison? I know I’ve talked huge crap about how tough I am to my friends, but I would be deluding myself if I thought I could survive prison. I would be eaten alive!

Wake up!

Be so hilariously for real! I am so awake I can see the words spinning around in my head. I’m so awake that I could pinch my arm - when I find it - and it would hurt as much as my self-harm! I am awake!

…

Okay, I can’t find my arm. I know I said I would so I could pinch it, but I look down to where my arm should be and there’s nothing there but black. And I’m not saying that because I’m black because I’m not. All black people are brown, let’s get real. It’s a dark ass void. Like, a space of complete emptiness. 

Maybe I’m not as awake as I thought I was.

Wake up!

Dude, I’m trying! It has never been this hard for me to wake up in my life. Even when I was having those dreams about that tall, gnarly-handed fucker chasing me around I still had an out. I had that key that I would find and it would wake me up. And, yes, that sounds like the most made-up shit in existence, but those are my dreams. They’re a fucking acid trip.

“Wake up!” Hold on just a second… I’ve heard that voice before. It’s familiar, at least. 

Not my mom, not my dad, not either of my brothers, none of my friends sound like that. It’s kinda looking like I don’t know this eerily familiar voice and I’m making shit up to sound cool, but I’m not! 

I feel someone shaking my shoulders like I’ve pissed them off or something. I would have been upset, but the feeling in my shoulders means I have to have arms! Right?

“Wake up! I did not hit you that hard!” They continued to shake me like I was a fucking snow globe, “You better not be messing with me, dude!”

The dark void and my thoughts that I could see as words in front of me were starting to fade away. After they did, I was kinda hoping that I could’ve stayed in the darkness forever. I mean, if this was a dream - and it definitely was - this was one of the most realistic ones I’ve had. So realistic that it was practically rude.

The image that replaced the void was a face. A face that I never thought I’d see except for on my calendar and TV. If I wasn’t going batshit crazy, I was seeing the Dean Winchester leaning over me as I was laid out flat on… hardass concrete?

“I swear I taught you how to avoid that move weeks ago. Where’s your head?” My head, Mr Dean Winchester sir is still trying to grasp the fact that you are a living, breathing, hunk of a man that is occupying the same space as me.

My mouth opened and closed like a brainless goldfish until I finally managed to word, “What the fuck?”

Dean looked taken aback. It was the type of face you’d give someone when they do something unexpected and I curse all the fucking time. This shouldn’t be surprising to him. Plus, he shouldn’t even know me in the first place!

“Where the fuck and what the fuck?” I sounded like a psychopath. Wording wasn’t going very well for me right now.

“Okay, let’s get you off the floor, and then we can talk about any brain damage you may or may not have gotten,” The next thing I knew, Dean’s firm arms were wrapped around my torso and my world expanded from just his face to… a storage closet room thing? 

There were those old-looking boxes that looked like fake wood but were really plastic stacked all over the room on various shelves. Toward the edge of the floor-to-ceiling concrete room was an opening through the shelves that seemed to go into another room. In the center of the room we were in - I know, a lot to keep track of - there was a white-painted demon star thing. Dean sat me in the chair that was presumably moved from the middle of the demon star.

“What the hell is going on with you right now?” Dean was now crouched in front of my chair staring at me with half-worried eyes.

“Dean…” I started.

“Yes?”

“Where the flying fuck am I?” His half-worried expression went to full-blown worry in a split second. 

“Does your head hurt?” He tried to feel the back of my skull but I quickly shifted away from him, “What’s wrong? Why are you acting like you don’t know where you are?”

“Because I don’t know where I am! I’m not stupid enough to think I’m actually in the bunker!” 

Dean looked as confused as I felt, “Kid, you are in the bunker.”

“And you’re Dean Winchester,” I scoffed, “You may look like him, but that’s kinda impossible.”

I know I said it was impossible, but remember that superiority complex I mentioned earlier? It kept making this whole situation more believable the longer I sat here looking at what looked like Dean Winchester and made me think I was here to save the universe or some shit. 

…look, man, I can’t help it!

“I’m getting Cas,” Dean huffed and turned to see the angel himself standing behind him. He let out an inhuman squawk of surprise that I wasn’t gonna let him forget before he reprimanded Castiel for probably the umteenth time for sneaking up on him.

“Dean,” Castiel said in his monotone voice, interrupting the hunter from his lecture, “Their energy is off.”

Dean quickly turned back to look at me before responding to Castiel, “What do you mean off?”

“It shifted. Like they’re like a whole different person.”

“May I interject?” I said… interjecting, “I don’t know who the fuck you knew before, but I am definitely not them. I’ve never met either of you in my entire life.”

“And they’re not a demon, Dean,” Castiel spoke up when he noticed Dean reaching for something - probably a knife - in his pocket. I owed Castiel one. I was not trying to get stabbed today.

“If they’re not a demon,” Dean stopped reaching for his weapon but was still tense, “Then what are they?”

Castiel and Dean both turned to me thinking I knew what the fuck was going on. I’m just as confused as you two!

“Well, my name is Jenny.”

“Don’t lie or I’ll be forced to look through your mind,” Castiel threatened.

“Maybe you should do that anyway,” Dean stated.

“No!” My voice cracked as I tried to keep my cool, “My real name is Casey. I’m a quirky 16-year-old from the barren land of the Quakers and I don’t mean any harm. I mean, look at me. Do you really believe I could do any harm?”

“They do have a point,” Dean said, “They’ve always been kinda skinny and noodly.”

His saying that made me look down at my body. I was wearing a plain red T-shirt with dark blue jeans and cringe-looking sneakers. I did look pretty skinny. My body - which was most definitely not this one - was more muscular than skinny. I also didn’t have hair scratching at my neck because I cut it when I was 13, but with this person's body, my hair was down to my shoulders. At least I was still my beautiful, golden brown skin tone.

“So… can I get up now or…?” I don’t know if it was a conscious thing or not, but Dean and Castiel had blocked my escape from my chair with their bodies. If I wanted to get up, I would have to push them, and I didn’t want to break the very thin layer of trust we had built up with my cooperation.

They seemed to have a whole conversation in their mind - maybe they did, I don’t know the extent of angel shit - before they eventually gave me space to stand.

I stood. Honestly, I thought I was going to fall over for some reason, but I didn’t. My new, skinny body did what it was told and stayed upright.

“Okay,” I smiled, “Where’s Sam?”

“How the hell do you know Sam? And how did you know my name?” Dean was still a bit suspicious of me. Telling him that he was part of a TV show I watched during COVID would probably make me sound crazy so I just went with:

“It’s a long story.”

Dean squinted his eyes at me as if he could actually see if I was telling the truth or not then, let out a huff, “Fine, come on. We’re going to the meeting room for a meeting.”

Oh boy.

AN: First chapter of my new series. Really excited to see how it goes! I have a bunch of chapters already written. I might post one every week. Hope you enjoyed!

Somehow Supernatural

Chapter 2: It's All Starting to Feel Real

Tags: poc!oc, gn!oc, teen!oc, panic attack, heavy cursing, Dean always needs his own warning, self-deprecating thoughts, mentions of anxiety, Cas not taking a hint, Deanstiel (or whatever the fuck Dean and Cas's ship name is), general chaos

Summary: The Winchesters and Cas have a meeting about Casey. It doesn't go too well, and Casey realizes what shit their stuck in.

Words: 2,675

I kinda felt like I was gonna vomit. Not because I needed to vomit, but because my tum-tum was doing flips and turns like a fucking rollercoaster due to my crippling anxiety. Usually, I would do little exercises that helped me regulate like my mom taught me, but that just reminded me that I was in a different universe where I might not be able to see my mom - or anyone I knew in real life - ever again. These consistent, little thoughts did not help my already upside-down stomach.

I was sitting in the bunker, in the room with the table that has the big map of the world. I liked to call this room the “meeting room” when I watched the show because… they met people in the meeting room. Come on, it was like the foyer of the bunker so everyone had to pass through it to fight and argue and shiz.

Anyway, I was sitting in the meeting room surrounded by men that I never thought I’d ever meet in person. Maybe the reason for my anxious tum was because of the “omg-smexy-men-are-staring-at-me” effect. If so… give me an anxiety stomach ache every day.

Dean sat straight across from me at the map table. Even though he wasn’t in pouncing position anymore, he was still on guard; which, I mean, valid. All that shit he’s gone through definitely made him a tough cookie. 

Castiel was standing right behind Dean’s chair like a guardian angel. I mean, literally right behind. He was basically breathing down the hunter's neck. Maybe he liked the smell.

And Sam.

Oh. Sammy. Boy!

He had his ass sat directly on the table and was staring at me in wonder. Sam’s hair was hanging in his face at an angle that was just… perfect. It was also the perfect length, not short enough to make him look like he was 15 and not long enough where he looked crusty. Did I mention that he looked fucking perfect? Honestly, if I didn’t know any better I would’ve thought Sam was the angel.

No offense, Cas.

All three attractive men were gathered around the meeting table to discuss me. Me! I was kinda feeling myself and basking in the attention that I was getting from multiple hot men before I realized something a bit alarming.

Dean, Castiel, and Sam… were deciding what to do with me. I wouldn’t put it past Dean if he decided to kill me or abandon me in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He doesn’t seem like the type to have a father instinct for just some random teen.

…or maybe whoever’s body I’m occupying is important to him.

“Y’all gonna talk or just stare?” I asked. Yes, during my whole internal monologue full of ogling men and withering away from anxiety, not a single person talked. They gave each other looks, but they didn’t utter a word. 

Someone finally decided to speak up after realizing how weird they were being.

“So…” Sam started. He had his hand thoughtfully under his chin. I thought I might mention it because it almost took me out, “You just appeared out of nowhere?”

“I mean, I guess so. I’m just as confused as you guys are,” I spin in my chair, “Honestly, I thought I was just having one of my regularly scheduled psychedelic dreams but then, I woke up with Dean in my face.”

“A dream?” Castiel asked.

“Yeah, dude, a dream. I was basically floating in this void and then I started hearing someone telling me to wake up and then… Dean’s face.” I took another twirl in my chair. 

The guys looked like they were trying to solve a puzzle. They had their thinking caps on full blast, you should have seen their faces. 

“Did you try the usual holy water, sliver, cross stuff?” Sam turned to Dean in question.

“Yeah,” Dean replied.

I get trying to make sure I’m not a bad type of baddie, but he could have used his non-dominant hand so it wouldn’t be as hard cause damn. That shit really hurt.

“They didn’t try to attack you?” Sam continued.

“No.”

“Then, I think we should be good for now. We can let them stay here since they seem discombobulated,” Bless you, Sam. You’re the greatest of all these fuckers.

“But if they try anything, they're out,” Cas nodded along with Dean’s words. The angel barely even looked like he was listening to what Dean was actually saying, “And if we figure out you were lying about who you are, I will find a way to send you to hell. Trust me.” 

Go shit on a brick, Dean. And you too Cas, agreeing with Dean like a lost puppy. 

“Okay…” I muttered. I didn’t really like the idea of dying, especially if it was in someone else’s body, but what could I have done? Said no? Been kicked to the curb? I’m not really worth anything to them so-

…wait.

“You never told me, whose body is this?” 

All of a sudden, it got a little awkward. Sam’s cheeks were pink and Dean was avoiding my eyes. Even Cas looked a little weird.

“Well-” Dean started.

“We-” 

“Sam found the kid on a hunt and couldn’t help but save them. They almost died, but Sammy got Cas to heal them,” Dean blurted. Sam’s face turned a dark red now that the truth was out to the masses.

“W-well you cared about them enough to train them!” Sam retorted. Now it was Dean’s turn for a red face. 

“You brought them stacks of books!”

“You made them your big bacon breakfast…three times! I can barely get you to cook for me!”

“You eat salad. I’m not making a fucking salad for a meal!” 

“It’s good for your body! Your body will rot away from all the red meat you eat!”

“At least I’m not eating rabbits' food!”

“You know,” Cas finally piped up, “The kid was bound to die.”

Silence. Damn, dude. That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it? From what I heard just now, the Winchester brothers really liked this kid. It kind of makes me feel bad for pushing them from their own body, but… what was Cas saying?

“They were meant to die the night of the hunt. Right on the floor of their living room where you found them. It was their fate. It was a miracle I was able to heal them and it was almost impossible for them to survive a month like they did,” Sam and Dean were getting pissed. Castiel - bless his heart - didn’t seem to notice, “They were never supposed to have formed relations with you two because you weren’t supposed to meet them while they were still alive.”

Poor Cas and his sucky communication skills. Now due to his harsh words, the angel’s collar was being winkled by Dean’s man hands. Castiel didn’t look alarmed at all. I wasn’t sure if it was because Dean was a mere human or because the majority of the Supernatural fandom was right about these two.

“Shut up,” Dean seethed. Sam was hovering behind Dean either waiting his turn to get a lick in or making sure Dean didn’t take it too far. I was now feeling really bad because this was all making a bit of sense. I finally understood why Castiel didn’t seem fazed by my sudden appearance, why he’s been saying all this shit about how this person should be dead already.

Speaking of Castiel, he was just letting Dean choke him up against the table. I knew he didn’t really need my help in the situation, but I was starting to feel a little awkward just sitting there. It’s way different seeing these men fight when they’re on screen and I’m in a whole other world looking like a mole rat on my couch. 

With courage that I didn’t know I had, I muttered, “Guys… I need to take a shit. Real bad.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at me in… surprise? Disgust? Both? It didn’t really matter what they thought of my statement, all that mattered was Castiel’s insensitive words were forgotten. For now.

Fingers combing through his hair, Sam sighed, “Come on then,” he said, walking off. He expected me to follow him and I did. To the best of my ability. He’s got long fucking legs, so he’s got even longer fucking strides. I had to practically run and I’m of average height!

Sam finally stopped at the door to the bathroom. I didn’t actually have to shit, but I figured I could use this opportunity of aloneness to recoup, realign, and do all things zen. 

Closing the door to the bathroom, I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. Today was one of the weirdest days of my life. I wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad weird yet, but it was weird. I never thought I would travel to a different universe. I never thought I would ever meet the Winchesters. I never thought I would get to walk with my own two feet - mostly - through the bunker that I’ve adored for years. 

What the hell brought me here? I wasn’t really complaining, but I still have to wonder. Was this planned? Was this person’s body kept alive for me to go in it? Do I have to save this world somehow? Am I connected to something here? Was this fate like Castiel mentioned?

I sat on the toilet seat feeling pretty lost. I wasn’t sure why it was so bright in the fucking bathroom, but it was bothering me so I slammed my face onto my lap. It was dark and warm and what I really needed at the moment. 

I know, a really sharp change in my emotions, but that’s just how it be sometimes. Perhaps being alone right now wasn’t the best decision. Usually, being alone worked, but now it felt like there were 20-pound weights on my shoulders, and it was getting kind of hard to breathe. It was also really hot, so I started squirming on the toilet seat like that was gonna cool me off.  I don’t know what I thinking because that’s not how heat works.

Then, I thought I could sit on the floor and continue my deep ponder about how the fuck I got into this situation, but I finally realized I was having a panic attack and didn’t really want to move. I found that if I moved, I would black out or it would be 10 times worse, but who knows, maybe this body works differently.

So, I moved to the floor. The floor was nice and cool, but then I started thinking about spiders because I was on the floor in an underground bathroom and spiders here really made sense. I wanted to get back on the toilet, but my body didn’t wanna listen. So now, I was a lump of a human on the bathroom floor that was probably shivering, but I couldn’t really feel my body anymore.

I wonder why when my body’s panicking my thoughts are calmer than when my body’s not panicking. It doesn’t really make sense. Like, none of my thoughts were screaming at me or telling me to do stupid shit. They were just calmly saying stuff like ‘you should get up’ or ‘there might be spiders here’ or ‘your probably gonna die, but take your time’. 

Yeah, the calm thoughts were definitely worst.

Now I recognized the feeling of tears falling down my face and I felt pretty pathetic. I mean, what the fuck was I crying for? Nothing was wrong. They hadn’t killed me yet. I’d always wanted to travel to another world, but I guess my body couldn’t take it. Wait! This wasn’t even my fucking body!

“So goddamn pathetic,” I wheezed. My right cheek was pressed against the floor and when I talked I could feel the tears smearing all over the place and it gave me the ick, but I couldn’t stop myself from crying. 

I love to mention the fact that I have a superiority complex, but I never talk about the opposite of that. My dandy ‘you’re a fucking loser and will never do anything in your life’ complex. It always sneaks up on me at the worst times, like when I’m supposed to be enjoying myself in another universe for crying out loud, and makes me feel more worthless than - fucking - everything. It makes me wanna crawl into a hole and never come back out.

Feeling worthless and having a panic attack simultaneously isn’t the best. It means not only can you not breathe, but you also don’t feel like trying. So, I laid on the floor of the bathroom and didn’t do any of the breathing exercises that my therapist taught me. I just waited to black out.

“Hey, kid, you doing okay in there?” Sam’s voice sounded so far away. I could barely hear it. My lungs were starting to hurt from lack of air, so I curled my aching body into a pathetic little ball.

Pathetic.

“Did you hear me?” Sam sounded. I didn’t move a muscle. I wasn’t surprised when I heard his footsteps getting farther from the door. Of course, he would abandon me. Even I would abandon myself. I was so damn pathetic that I didn’t deserve to be cared for.

Bang!

“Kid! What the hell?” Sam’s voice was now closer. Was it odd that I could smell him? Was I really that desperate for someone that I was imagining things?

So fucking pathetic.

Strong arms lifted me off the floor. I was now pushed against a firm chest and not cold tiles. I don’t think I was imagining this, but I wasn’t gonna get my hopes up. I couldn’t see much because of the tears, so I just snuggled deeper into Sam’s flannel.

More footsteps approached. More voices.

“What the hell happened?”

“They were in the bathroom and I heard sobbing, but they wouldn’t answer the door.”

“Are they hurt?” 

“No, I think they’re having a panic attack.”

“A what?”

“A panic attack, Dean. I’m just gonna get them to lay down somewhere other than the floor.”

“The floor? Did they pass out?”

Sam brushed my hair back to see my face, “Maybe. They’re awake now.”

When we got to the couch, Sam put me down and crouched in front of me. He was looking into my eyes while I was trying to look at his. 

“Breathe with me,” Sam whispered gently. 

I tried to do what he said, but my lungs were burning. Every breath I tried to take would come out shaky or devolve into a sob. Sam slowly took my hands, giving me a chance to pull away, and continued breathing with me. It took a while, but soon I was breathing steadily and my crying had stopped.

“You okay?” Sam asked.

I nodded.

“You want some water?” 

I nodded again.

“Dean?” Sam turned to his brother that was standing behind him, “Mind getting them some water?”

Before Dean could move Castiel appeared with a glass of water in hand. I hadn’t even noticed he had left. The angel handed me the glass and while I gulped it down, he stayed hovered over me. He looked really worried, but I wasn’t sure why.

“Does this happen a lot?” Sam questioned. His hand was still holding one of mine. It was comforting.

“Yeah,” I croaked, “No big deal.”

“Is there something wrong with them?” The shorter brother asked.

“Nah, I’m just kinda sensitive,” I huffed, “Kind of hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with that in this body.”

“Sorry you have to,” said Sam, “I know how it feels.”

Well, well, well. One of my personal headcannons was true. 

I gave Sam a smile and finally let go of his hand. I didn’t really wanna talk about this anymore.

“So, you guys got anything to eat?”

I used my own experience with panic attacks to write the scene in this chapter, so if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.

AN: loved this chapter sm. I really like the tone of this fanfiction and I'm gonna try to keep it like this so when it gets dark... well- it doesn't get too depressing.

Hope you enjoyed!

Somehow Supernatural

Tags: teen!oc, gn!oc, poc!oc, Dean being Dean, weird dreams, CROWLEY, demon dogs, Dean being scared of said demon dogs

Summary: Casey goes to bed, has weird dreams, and gets to meet the King of Hell.

Chapter Three: Yummy Food and Weird Shit

I will never deny that I was a foodie. I mean, if you saw me when I devour anything put in front of me, you wouldn’t even have to ask. I love everything about food. Sometimes I mix stuff together that other people think is weird like when I dip my waffles and pancakes in orange juice. I used to be the kid in elementary school who would mix everyone’s leftover lunches together and actually go through with eating it.

One thing I learned from all my years of eating is that post-panic attack meals are the best. After crying half my weight in water and depriving my brain of oxygen, food just hits different. Plus, Dean brought back chicken nuggets.

“Slow down, you’ll choke,” Dean said as he reached his hand to take my nuggies away. I obviously wasn’t gonna just let him do that so, I smacked the shit out of his hand. I didn’t think I put that much power into it but when I heard the smack echo, I knew.

“Mmfh,” I was trying to apologize before he kicked me out on my ass, but my mouth was full of about 4 chicken nuggets. Dean glared at me and went back to eating his double bacon cheeseburger.

Sam had come to sit down across from Dean and me after he had finished preparing his salad. Dean asked if his brother wanted anything from the restaurant, but Sam insisted on eating salad. I love salad as much as anyone, but when someone offers to buy you fast food, you fucking take it. Salad be damned.

Castiel was seated next to Sam opposite of me. He didn’t need to eat, so he was just reading the menu that had come with the fast food. Occasionally, he would look up from his reading to glance at me. It didn’t look threatening, but it did look like he had something to say.

“So,” I had finally swallowed down the colossal amount of chicken I stuffed down my face, “When are we going to go on a hunt?”

“We?” Dean quirked his eyebrow at me.

“Yes, we, Dean. I might as well since I’m here. What else am I supposed to do?”

Dean crumbled up the empty wrapper of his meal, “Nothing.”

“Sam?” I turned to the younger Winchester. He had been really nice to me. He wouldn’t agree with Dean.

“I agree with Dean.”

Well fuck.

So, basically, I was in this new universe and I couldn’t do jack shit but sit underground. That was so unfair! They should at least take me once, but from their faces, it didn’t look like they were gonna change their minds.

What did they even have to do in the bunker? I know they have alcohol. Too much alcohol, in fact, but even if I was of age, I’m not really interested. They also have a library full of hunter books. I know that sounds cool and I shouldn’t be complaining, but who would want to read books about these cool ass monsters if you could see them in person? Not me, that’s for sure.

“They should go on a hunt,” Castiel stated, not taking his eyes off his menu. How was that so interesting to him?

…wait.

“Did you just say I could go?!” I squealed.

“Did you just say they could go?!” The brothers yelled in unison.

“They can go with me,” Castiel said finally putting his menu down, “They won’t be harmed.”

I ran over to the other side of the table to tackle Castiel in a hug because I was so happy. Fried nerves be damned. He kind of froze for a second before awkwardly patting my back. Sam and Dean were still trying to get the angel to not bring me, but he didn’t budge.

“Who would watch them if we’re all gone? They’re a child, they need protection.”

Dean scoffed at that like it wasn’t kind of true before he stood from the table and stalked off. Presumably to his room. Sam shook his head in disbelief before he retired as well. 

Soon, Castiel and I were the only ones left at the table. I was still eating my fries and Castiel was staring at me. It would have been creepy if it had been anyone besides him, but he had this innocence about him that didn’t make him all that scary. Even though he was the only one here with powers strong enough to do God-knows-what, he didn’t make me feel frightened at all.

“Casey,” I perked up, “you should get some sleep. It’s late.”

I wasn’t sure how late it was because we were underground and I never asked, but now that Castiel brought up the subject of sleep, it made me yawn. I didn’t even register I was tired. It felt like it’d been so long since I last slept. I wasn’t sure if that was because of my eventful day or because it really had been that long.

I got up from the table and waved Castiel goodnight. I was halfway down the hallway before I realized that I didn’t know where I was going to sleep. No one had given me a room or anything. 

I wonder where my body was staying before I got here.

Not wanting to bother anyone, I slinked over to the couch I had sat on earlier and laid down. The couch had a blanket that was thick enough and a couple of pillows that weren’t too uncomfortable.

The thing that made me so uneasy was the fact that it was out in the open. The couch sat against one of the walls of the library. I never did well with new sleeping spaces, but when those sleeping spaces were so big and dark that you weren’t sure what was hiding in there… I did not like it. Plus, I couldn’t watch YouTube before bed. 

I’m not sure how, but I eventually went to sleep. I ended up in another void. This time I couldn’t see all my thoughts as words. This time I could see my mom. She was in the kitchen chopping vegetables. There was nothing on the stove and there was nothing in front of her to put the vegetables in. The only thing on the entire counter was the chopping board and the single carrot she was chopping. I wanted to know what she was doing and I tried to ask, but my mouth wouldn’t move. She looked me right in my eyes before she disappeared.

Next, I saw my dad. He was in the garage sitting on his motorcycle. The engine wasn’t running and the garage wasn’t even open, but my dad had all his gear on like he was gonna take off at any second. He wasn’t wearing his helmet though. I was standing in the doorway that lead from the house to the garage. My dad was facing in the other direction. He looked frozen in time. I couldn’t even see his body shift from breathing. It was like he was paused. I tried to walk up to him to tap him on the shoulder, but - again - I couldn’t move. My dad finally turned his face to me. Blood dripped from his mouth. Then, he disappeared too.

I saw my older brother out on the front porch. He was sitting in the gray chair that was facing me yet, I couldn’t see his face. His neck… his neck somehow had his head on backward. His fingers still typed at the computer on his lap even though he couldn’t see it. I didn’t try to move this time, but my brother did. One of his hands lifted off of the keyboard to point at something behind me. Then, he disappeared.

My little brother was next. He was in the basement playing on his gaming setup. Well, at least he was sitting at his gaming setup. His arms were at his sides and he was staring at a blank screen. I was standing directly behind him. I wanted to run. I didn’t want to see this creepy shit anymore, but I was stuck in place. I had to watch my little brother melt into a pile of flesh in his chair.

I didn’t like this dream. No matter how hard I tried to wake up, I couldn’t. I was stuck. Stuck watching some creepy version of my family from afar. I wished that I could hear Dean’s voice again. I wished he would wake me up by shaking my arms like he did before, but his voice never came. No one ever came. This wasn’t me feeling like a failure that didn’t deserve to be saved. I wanted to be saved. I needed to be saved.

“Save me!” A voice echoed through my head that I’d never heard before. I never heard this voice before, but I felt linked to them somehow. I wanted to reach out and save them like I wanted someone to save me. For the first time since my dream started, my body moved. I reached my hand out for this voice. I swear I felt them reach back.

~~~

“Fuck!” I woke up sitting straight up on the couch I fell asleep on. My hand was outstretched like I was reaching for… something? Someone. Who was I reaching for? 

My blanket and pillows had fallen to the floor which wasn’t a surprise to me. Even when I wasn’t having creepy ass weird ass dreams, I was still a wild sleeper. What the fuck was that dream about anyway? I liked to believe that all dreams mean something, but I didn’t understand that one. Or maybe I was too scared to want to understand it. I’d come back to it later.

Right now, I was more concerned with the man sitting in the library. He looked concerningly like the King of Hell.

“Hello… new child,” Crowley said in his british accent. He was casually sipping on some of Sam and Dean’s alcohol stash. I felt underdressed even though I was wearing the same shit since I got here. It wasn’t half bad, but I kinda wanted to meet Crowley looking like myself. Or at least with my own dressing style and not this cringe shit. He was one of my favorite characters after all.

“How long have you been there?” I asked, slowly placing my feet flat on the floor. 

“Not that long,” he shrugged.

I got up and walked toward him. I know he’s the King of Hell and all that jazz, but I really wanted to shake his hand. He didn’t look like he wanted to hurt me. He actually looked kind of curious.

I offered him my hand, “I’m Casey. Nice to meet the King of Hell face to face.”

Crowly smirked and shook my hand, “You know who I am and you think it’s nice to meet me. I’m surprised the Winchesters haven’t told you-”

“Get away from him!” Sam shouted as he practically slid into the room. It seemed like he rushed in here so fast he forgot to put a shirt on. He was only wearing his blue-patterned pajama pants. I looked at him with a ‘what the fuck’ face before turning back to Crowley. I know Sam was trying to look after me and shit, but he was not gonna make me walk away from the motherfucking King of Hell.

“I have so many questions if you don’t mind,” I told Crowley as I sat next to him. Sam let out a sound of protest, “What do the demon dogs look like? I know the whole thing is not seeing them, but I’ve always been curious. Also, what’s your favorite task to do as the King of Hell? Do you enjoy torture or do you only do it because you have to? Are other demons dumb cause how do they get killed by Sam and Dean so easily? Do you have wings-”

“You have to give me time to answer, you know,” I snapped my mouth closed, “For your first question… I could bring the demon dogs here if you’d like.”

“Yes!” I squealed.

“No!” yelled Sam.

Crowley brought out the summoning whistle from his jacket pocket. Sam looked like he was about to pass out, but he somehow managed to stay upright. I sorta forgot that Sam had trauma from the demon dogs. They killed his brother in what? Season 3?

I didn’t think Crowley was actually gonna go through with it, but he blew the whistle. I guess if the dogs don’t have orders to kill anyone, they won’t… hopefully.

“How can you tell when they’re here-”

I was cut off but something warm and wet wiping up my face. I let out a yelp of surprise before I realized it was most likely the dogs. I cautiously reached my arms out to feel for its body. My hands connected with soft fur. The dog or dogs - I felt multiple tongues licking at my face - were pretty big by the feel of it. Maybe the size of a pony? They were muscly as hell though.

“How many did you call?” I asked Crowley.

“Just one. They have multiple heads. You can ask Dean about that.” 

Sam gave the demon a glare for his assholish comment before he spoke up, “Why the hell are you here, Crowley?”

“Well,” Crowley looked back at me. I bet it looked like I was petting air, “I came here to see them.”

Sam was confused. I was confused. Why the hell did the King of Hell have business with me? Even though I had no idea what Crowley wanted with me and whether or not I was in danger, I kept petting the demon dog. I didn’t know when I was gonna have the opportunity to do this again.

“You’re not taking them,” Sam said, pulling an angel knife from his ass.

“I’m not taking them. Calm down, moose,” Crowley finally stood up from his chair, “I just wish to talk with them.”

“I don’t see why not,” I pipped in.

“He’s the fricken King of Hell!” Sam yelled like ruling the underworld was a crime.

“And?” I replied.

“And you're not talking to him!”

“Well, last time I checked, you weren’t the fucking boss of me, dude.” I stood up from petting the demon dog and gave Sam a glare. I was getting fed up with Sam telling me what to do. First, he told me he didn’t want me going on hunts, and now this? I hadn’t even known him for a full 24 hours!

“You’re a child, Casey! No!” 

“I’m not your fucking child, Sam, so buzz the fuck off!”

The demon dog started barking really loud after I said that. The air stilled. Crowley was smirking throughout Sam and I’s whole argument, but now his face was filled with genuine surprise. Sam looked scarily angry.

“You lied,” Sam stated. The angel knife that was once pointed at Crowley was now pointed at me, “You are some kind of monster.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I said, breathless. Fear shot up my spine.

“Your eyes… they turned red.”

AN: Crowley's one of my favorite characters and in later chapters sometimes he just comes back for not reason other than I like him. I know I do shit on Dean, but like, I still like him. He's just not my favorite out of the trio. And yes, superpowered OC. Gotta love it.