#huntercentral

January 23rd, 2011: Dean and Sam had tracked down a coven, they pulled me over to the side of the road, climbing out and silently shutting my doors. I don't think they ever noticed I never creaked my doors when there was need for silence. They retrieved their weapons from my trunk and disappeared into the night. I could hear curses and screams and gunshots. A woman ran out of the house, stopping dead in her tracks right in front of me, she looked so familiar. And she seemed to think the same, she stared at me, eyes wide, her face drained of colour. That's when it hit me… she was the head Witch. She was the one I'd been tracking in 1971. I shook with fury, I wanted to run her down, exact my revenge. And as my engine tried to turn, she raised a hand to me and began to chant. I was rumbling and revving now. Dean burst through the front door of the nearby house, taking aim and shooting her down as she was halfway through her spell. She fell forwards, her bloodied hand connected with my bonnet as the light left her eyes. But in that momentary touch, I felt it. She'd managed to do something to me. I locked my doors against Dean, trying my best to warn him against me. Something was happening, I was cursed, I could feel it. Completely different to being possessed, but I could feel something foreign surging through me. Dean mumbled swears at me as the keys finally took, forcing me open. By some stroke of luck, the boys returned to the motel, bypassing the usual bar stop after a successful hunt.

Dean shut off my engine and climbed out of my cab, he collected his bag and followed Sam through the door of their room. Dean didn't even look back to see the handprint on my fender. I wanted to scream for him to wipe it off, sure that it would stop whatever magic was coursing through me.

January 24th, 2015: The sun was shining bright, warm against my dark surface, the winter wind nipped at my sides and ran down my back. The ground was much cooler under me, than I was normally used to, must be a frosty morning. I opened my eyes and the sun glinted off the window, blinding me momentarily. I blinked the spots away and realised the position of the sun in the window meant I was sitting lower than normal. If my tires were blown, neither Dean or I would be happy. Speaking of, the door opened and Dean stepped out, keys in hand. He looked around then at me, I smiled, my insides warming for wherever he was taking me. His mouth fell open and he stumbled back into the door, almost tripping and sliding down it. What was happening? Dean began to shrug out of his jacket as he banged on the door at his back. “Sammy.” He bellowed, I’d heard that wary tone before, what was the matter. I checked behind me, nothing. I looked back to Dean who had carefully approached me, holding his jacket at arm’s length. “Don’t-Dean-the-spell.” I blurted as he was a step away. I don’t know who was more surprised. I heard my voice, not just in my head. For Dean, I was a stranger who knew his name. I looked down now, feeling the heaviness of my head, the movement of my neck, all the muscles, no longer machine but human. I pushed myself up into a sitting position, looking down at my hands. I had hands again, I looked at the rest of my body, my naked body. It wasn’t shiny and glinting in the sun, it was fleshy and smooth. My head, god, how heavy it was.

“But who is she?” I heard Sam ask in a hushed whisper. I opened my eyes and saw a ceiling, I was indoors. I spread my fingers wide and felt the cloth beneath me, around me, I was in a bed. I moved my hands up to my stomach, feeling the smooth naked skin. It was warm, and silky and … foreign. I frowned as I ran my hands in opposite directions, over my breast, between my legs, purely exploring long forgotten mounds and crevasses. “Uhh…” Dean cleared his throat, causing me to sit bolt upright, the bed linen falling away from me. “Whoa.” Sam was holding up the sheets for me within moments, protecting a stranger’s modesty, That’s my boy. I thought. smiling. I looked between the two, Dean was staring at me, differently to how he was before, as if he was concentrating a little two hard, trying to place the familiarity he felt. “Who are you?” Sam tried, throwing his brother a look, one I’d seen time and time again. He should ease up on Dean, they were brought up differently; Sam raised, Dean dragged. “I’m…” I actually had to think about it, my name, something I hadn’t heard in 50+ years, “YN?” I didn’t mean for it to be a question, I nodded to confirm it. Sam still looked unsure, “You,” I turned to Dean, “Know me as Baby.” I muttered, suddenly feeling their eyes on me, aware of just how naked I was. “Can I borrow some clothes?” I asked. It took the younger Winchester a second or three, but he let me take the blanket and searched through their bags for spare, clean, clothes. I wrapped the sheet around me and took the offered clothes, heading towards the bathroom. I let the sheet drop as I closed the door. The woman in the mirror staring back at me was a shock. It was like seeing a ghost. A ghost with a blood smear over her cheek. I’d gotten used to admiring my sleek, black, shine in reflections. Now I was human, and what more, I hadn’t aged, I was my old twenty-seven year old self. I was frozen, staring, relearning the planes of my face. I backed up against the far wall and studied my body, the way it moved, the shape, the colour, my hair. It was black and shiny, the only part of me now like my... true form is incorrect, but after more time as a car than as a human, you understand my meaning. I wet a facecloth and scrubbed the dried blood off my face then pulled the boxers up my legs, over my buttocks, discovering a demon trap tattoo on one cheek. I poked my head through the hole in the shirt and let the material fall over my body, it came further down my legs than the boxers. “No way, Dean, she’s a human, the car’s probably been nicked.” Sam explained away, for a man who’d seen it all, he sure was closed minded. “You don’t feel it? I know her, explain that, she’s naked where we left the car, the witch was chanting before I got her last night… I don’t know, Sam, it’s…” Dean must’ve shrugged to finish his sentence. I opened the door and the brothers straightened apart, trying to look casual, but in reality it looked more suspicious. “Why don’t you call Rowena, if you don’t believe me. See if she’s heard of this kind of magic?” Sam’s brows pulled in at my mention of the witch, Dean’s raised, interesting how my boys differ. “How do you know about Rowena?” Sam asks, more like interrogates. “Because I was there, Sam. I’ve always been there.” I know Sam won’t believe me till he has more evidence, instead I turn to Dean. “You feel it, right, Dean?” I ask, taking cautious steps towards him, Dean’s eyes flicker to Sam and back to me, watching, waiting. “John Winchester bought me on the 30th of April, 1972, with your encouragement, when Castiel sent you back. John proposed to Mary in me-the Impala.” At Dean’s nose crinkle, I quickly adjusted my statement and made a mental note that now I wasn’t a car, it sounded weird. “They conceived you in that car, Mary delivered you there. Sam was touch and go but I got Mary to the hospital, didn’t I. Dean, I held the three of you close when she died.” I desperately wanted him to understand. “I protected you boys when John drank himself into darkness and forgot you two were in the car.” Their struggle to believe me was infuriating, my tone adjusted to vent the anger, “You scraped my side when you borrowed me from John. John and I watched you, Sam, made sure you were safe while you were at Stanford. I was there through everything, Dean. I felt everything.” I finished, my chest heaving as I drew in heavy breaths. I looked between the boys, they were stunned. I couldn’t help myself from adding the cherry on top, “By the way, Dean?” I waited for him to meet my gaze, “Happy Birthday.” I walked between them and headed back to the parking lot, sure it was cold, but who knew how long this spell would last and I didn’t want to explode back into a car in the middle of their room.

“YN?” Dean was quiet on his approach. I was standing on the other side of the parking lot, I turned to face him, aware of the slump of his shoulders, the pain behind his eyes, the caution in his step. “Please don’t call me that, Dean. Not you.” I murmured, I could feel the tears in my eyes, I wasn’t aware of how to be with him now, being an automobile was much easier. Dean stopped a few feet from me, I wasn’t sure if it was my plea or his own deciding. He was silent for quite a while before he realised he was carrying a blanket. He closed the distance and wrapped me in the warm sheet. “Can you tell me something?” His voice was thick, he quickly cleared it and carried on as I nodded. “How were you in the Impala? How did we not know?” He asked, I smiled and swiped the wetness from my cheeks, he escorted me to the bench and sat with me. “I was a hunter, believe it or not.” Dean raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, “I…” I should start from the beginning, I thought, “I wanted a Ford, and I’d saved for years for that bloody thing, and on the day I could afford it, I marched into the lot and bought the brand new, 1967, Chevrolet, Impala.” Dean snorted and smiled, I could almost read his mind, “She was beautiful back then, and I couldn’t leave without her. So I didn’t.” I smiled at the old memory, I was amazed I even remembered. “She’s still stunning.” Dean muttered. My head snapped round to look him in the eye, the silence stretched out, both of us frozen in the moment. “Rowena’s a state away if we leave-” Sam informed as he walked towards us, then broke off instantly realising a state away meant driving. Dean cleared his throat and looked to his brother, standing to make plans. I kept staring. My Dean called me beautiful, he was proud of me, loved me, but never once did I think he’d mean anything more. “We’ll borrow another for now, get you some clothes.” Dean stated casually with a shrug. “I don’t, I can’t…” I couldn’t figure out the way to phrase my fear of being indoors. What if the spell wore off when I was in a changing room? “Hey, hey.” Dean hushed, his palm rested on my cheek, my face fitting into his hand as if it were sculpted to him. “We’ll think of something else.” Dean soothed. “Something else? Dean!” Sam protested, but Dean shot him a look. “Just use a summoning spell, Sam.” Dean snapped. “With what?” Sam snapped back, motioning at me. I couldn’t help but feel hurt. I didn’t know what had happened to everything. I didn’t know where the weapons, herbs, other clothes and books had gone. Christ, I didn’t even know where my precious present from Sam had gone, or the Lego Dean had given me. “Dude.” Dean warned, “Call her back, she can come to us.” Dean said after a minute of thinking. “Wait. I can tell her the spell.” I said, closing the distance between Sam and I.

“By the sounds, it’s going to wear off 24 hours after whoever cast it died.” Rowena explained, I nodded, part of me knew it wasn’t permanent, she hadn’t got the whole curse out, it was her blood that had caused it to take effect. “Isn’t there anything we can do to make it permanent?” Sam asked. “Whoa, hang on.” Dean said, surprised at Sam’s thinking. “I mean, separate her from the car.” Sam amended. Dean nodded, looking up at me, realising that it might’ve hurt to hear him want his car back, more than he wanted a human. But in honesty, it didn’t. This world, as a human, was now foreign to me, give me four wheels and Dean, and I’d be myself. “If I don’t know what the spell was that caused it, I could do more damage trying to reverse it.” Rowena said, she actually managed to sound apologetic. I shrugged before either of them could talk. I didn’t want to hear how sorry they were, how they’d try to fix this. In my eyes, this would be fixed just after eleven tonight. “Thanks Rowena.” I said, effectively ending the conversation, taking the phone from Sam and ending the call. “We can fix this, just…” Sam began, I shook my head, I wouldn’t want them wasting their lives for mine, I had accepted that I was the Impala, and as long as the boys kept on loving me, they’d be my life. “Now, if this doesn’t wear off till tonight, I’d like some proper clothes.” I chirped, hoping my tone would escalate their moods.

“Can I show you something?” I asked Dean as we walked away from the store, wearing my new clothes. Sam had left us to it, claiming he’d look into “things” and let Dean get to know me. “Of course.” Dean smiled, I took his hand and pulled him across the road, weird that I was finally directing him. “I doubt you remember this, we drove past it on our way to the hunt.” I said, our fingers had fit together, intertwined, it felt very much like when he fit them into the grooves on my steering wheel. He shook his head. “You really see everything, huh?” He mused to himself. “It reminded me of when you were three and John and Mary brought you to a park quite similar.” I looked over at his sad smile, “I s’pose you don’t remember it.” I muttered, letting the thought trail off. I didn’t want to upset him on the only day I’d ever be able to talk to him. We stood watching parents with children, kids climbing over equipment. “Tell me more.” Dean prodded. “Mary had scooped you out and took you to the park, it had been a busy day and John had to look for a parking spot, we sat and watched the two of you in the sandpit for a while.” I smiled, looking over the planes of Dean’s face as he watched toddlers eating sand in the nearby box. “He told me he loved your smile. That you got it from Mary.” I saw the curl of his lips, the sad smile that pulled at his features. “I can see it now!” I whispered, he turned and looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “He knew about you?” He asked, I giggled and shook my head. “No, sorry.” I placed a hand on his arm, “I meant he said it out loud. You’re the only one that talks to me, Dean!” I said brightly, smiling at him. He reached up and tucked a piece of my unruly hair behind my ear, his thumb grazing my cheek bone. “I’m sorry.” He said it with such conviction my heart broke for him. It was my own stupid fault I'd got trapped in the car, how was ANYONE to know I WAS the car? But here Dean was, apologizing like he's not seen obvious signs. “There's nothing to be sorry for, my darling. You know now,” I tried to make him understand, but his tears were beginning to well and I couldn't have that on his birthday, “And maybe you’ll stop running me into things!” I joked, and it worked, he laughed. I patted his knee and stood up. “I'm starved.” I announced, “birthday feast?” I suggested, taking his hand and pulling him up.

After realising the time and heading to the bar for dinner, we joined Sam at the booth he’d been holding. “Good day?” Sam asked, looking between the two of us as we sat down opposite him. “Yeah,” Dean answered, passing me the menu that stood against the wall, “Do you remember that time when we were kids and Dad forgot we were in the car, got stone-cold drunk and passed out in the front seat... we couldn’t remember who’d locked the doors in the morning?” Dean asked his brother, a memory I hadn’t meant to remind him of but inherently did when I announced that there were small things I was able to control. “We thought the car was magic?” Sam said, recalling the memory, again, not my intention. Dean jerked his thumb in my direction and Sam’s eyebrows shot up, a proud nod was all he offered. “What do you boys feel like?” I asked, beginning to push out of the booth, but Dean stopped me, pulling me back to the leather seat. “This is on Mr Radowski.” He informed, waving a gold American Express in front of Sam and I. “I’ll have the chicken caesar,” Sam said, giving me an extra moment to glance at the menu. “I’m dying for a medium rare steak with fries and ketchup.” I said, smiling at Dean as he nodded his approval and made his way to the bar. “So, you enjoy your day?” Sam asked me now that Dean was gone. “Yeah, it’s been nice. Great stretching my legs and actually talking with Dean.” I said, glancing back to him. “You love him?” Sam asked, I whipped my head back just in time to see him surveying me. “I love you both, Sam.” My brow had furrowed at how serious a statement I was making, I needed him to know it wasn’t just Dean. Sure, Dean pays me the attention I need and I was in love with the man, but they were both my boys, I’d die for them, if I could. “You have to understand, I was there from the beginning of it all, Sam, I know what you boys have been through, I’ve seen most everything you have. Just cause I’m the Impala doesn’t mean I don’t take it in.” Sam’s gaze dropped to the table, fiddling with the cardboard coaster in his hands. “What do you miss mo-” Sam began as Dean plonked the beer bottles on the table and shoved them at us, scooting in next to his brother. We clinked bottles and took a sip. “The open road, the speed.” I answered, looking back to Sam who chuckled, I tilted my head and took another pull of beer. “I meant, about being human!” Sam said with a snort, Dean caught on and smiled. “Oh,” I thought about it and then smiled, wiping at the droplets of condensation on the bottle. “What is it?” Dean pried, smirking. I was sure he already knew the answer. “I s’pose, sex. Closely,” Sam nearly choked on his beer as Dean laughed, “Closely followed by food, speaking of,” I quickly segwayed as the waitress passed our plates to us, making eyes at Dean who didn’t seem to notice now he had his food. But I did, I saw the curve of her on-display cleavage, the way she pouted when Dean didn’t look up, the sway of her hips when she walked away. Man or Woman, I missed the human body and the way it reacted in moments of passion. “No wonder you’re so suited,” Sam muttered, bringing my attention back to the table. “What?” I questioned, knowing full well he was referring to his brother. Sam shook his head and chuckled before digging into his salad.

We all sat back, tummies full, third beer in hand, conversation freely flowing between us, when I felt it. It started as a fizz in my stomach, then spread out over my body, like a low hum of electricity under my skin. I was beginning to change back. “S’cuse, I think I’ve had one too many after how many years!” I explained, pushing out of the booth and heading towards the toilet. Sam gave me a questioning glance before returning to argue with his brother about the minute details of a case they worked many years ago. I stole a waitresses pad and pen before sneaking out the back door toward the parking lot. Who knew how long I had, I put pen to paper and hoped they’d find it.

The boys felt it before they heard it, the floor vibrating as if something heavy had just landed nearby, then the clunk of metal, like chain-mail falling into place. They looked at each other then at the door, both pushing out of the booth and darting for it, bursting into the cool night air. And there she was, sleek and black, shining under the streetlight, just waiting for them. Dean steps forward, running his hand over the bonnet, up the door panel and along the roof. He’s more tender and gentle than ever before, taking in every small groove and rough patch in the paintwork, making a mental note to wax and polish her when he gets her home, show her some real TLC. Dean gingerly opened the door and put one foot into the well, realising Sam is frozen near the door they’d just burst through. “You comin’?” Dean asks, nodding at the passenger side. “Isn’t this weird?” Sam asks, concern on his face. Dean’s brow furrows, to him she was a car come to life for a day, a Birthday wish. Sam heard her story though, she was a woman cursed to spend the rest of, who knows, trapped inside the Impala. “She was … now we both just…” Sam shook his head, his face contorting at the idea. “Dude.” Dean chided, sliding down into the seat, gliding his hands over the steering wheel, fitting his fingers into the grooves, like always but now he remembered the warmth of her fingers between his and he smiled. Sam finally, yet hesitantly, joined Dean inside the Impala. His discomfort evident on his face. Dean fished the keys from his pocket and slid them into the ignition effortlessly, turning them as her the glovebox fell open. “How-” Sam began as he reached in and retrieved the pad of paper, showing it to Dean who just shrugs but nods for Sam to read it out loud.

My boys, Today was wonderful, getting to share my story with you both, talk to you both. Something I never thought I’d do again, let alone with you. You’ve both grown into such wonderful gentlemen and I’m honoured to say I’ve been there for the whole ride. My heroes. Sam - please don’t go searching for a way to undo the spell. I’ve spent more of my life as a car than I have as a human, just knowing you both now know I’m here is enough. Dean - I look forward to many more years as the Impala, your Impala. For future reference, there’s one spot you always miss in the monthly wash - figure it out! -Baby

Sam read over it again as Dean smiled to himself, he remembered you saying large, deep, puddles were your favourite as they hit a certain point on the tires. He banked that thought and put her in reverse, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the street. She revs harder than he’s ever heard her before. Groovin’ on a Sunday afternoon … begins to play through the stereo and the brothers share a knowing look before looking away. Sam turned to his window, looking over his shoulder at the toy still stuck in the arm of the door behind him. Dean patted the dash affectionately, fingertips lingering for a brief moment before he releases the clutch, pressing his foot to the floor on the accelerator, letting his Baby fly down the interstate. “That’s my girl.”

Hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it.

July 21st, 1969: She was a dream to ride in. The only baby I'd ever need. She kept me warm on cold nights, she kept me safe from danger. She also took a beating like no other car. I can't tell you how many times she'd been shot at, clawed, kicked. My line of unofficial work wasn't all that healthy. Hunting could really kill if you didn't have a trusty companion, and she was mine. Sure she didn't quell the need for a man between my legs, but she provided the room in the back seat.  And the music system was even better, she seemed to have my favourite song playing each time I turned her on. I can't imagine anything gets better, the world is ours whenever we’re together… She was perfect.

October 8th, 1971: I sped along the back roads of Kansas, I'd been tracking this bloody coven across several different states. Each time I thought I was close I'd see or hear of something relative to their powers a state away. I had it narrowed to a Circus. They were the only ones that were two states ahead of me, travelling at the pace of the coven. I was gonna get ahead of them. I could do this. I stamped on the accelerator, flooring it.

October 12th, 1971: I’d found them! I, YFN YLN, had found the coven. Of course, I had Baby to thank for it. If she hadn't broken down, I wouldn't have been helped by the lion tamer and circus mechanic. They invited me to the show, I thought it was the perfect way of getting in. I'd overheard people talking about how correct and specific the Soothsayer was. That rang bells, so I went in for my fortune. She began to chant and flap her arms, all for show. But then I noticed her transition from babble to Latin. The tent began to fill with smoke, it smelt like sage and something I couldn't put my finger on. She then looked to the crystal ball. I watched from the other side, keeping an eye on her. All of a sudden she stood up, throwing me out of the tent flap with a wave of her hand. I was winded and confused but I had found my witch. I stayed in my car till they finished up for the night, crowds flocking out of the gates as the big lights switched off. I idled in the car a while, finally gathering up my knife and potion and pressed a kiss to my fingertips then to the bonnet as I walked away. Be back soon, Baby. I was out of my depths, I killed two but it wasn't a fair fight, 5 witches to one ordinary human. I retreated back to the Impala to lick my wounds, call for reinforcements, they were stronger than I'd ever imagined.

October 13th, 1971: Waking up in the Impala wasn't ever unusual, it was actually a common occurrence. But I specifically remember falling asleep in a motel bed. I remembered the curse I'd been blasted with the night before. I remembered the chanting… I opened my eyes and was staring at the door to the motel room. I tried to get up, but I didn't move. I tried to look down. I couldn't. The cleaner walked past me, I tried to call for help. Nothing. Couldn't she see me? Was I bound? Was this a trick? Was I invisible? I lay there for a while, watching the clouds float by before the sun streamed down, out from hiding behind the grey cotton candy in the sky. I glanced across at the window of my motel room. I wasn’t there. I was staring straight at it, but I couldn't see myself. An invisibility and bound spell, very funny, witches. I was gonna wipe them off this plane and the next when I finally caught up to them. A car pulled in next to me. Well, next to my baby. The male driver swung his door open and clipped my impala. Other than the fury at his lack of care, I could feel pain in my side. Pain? I focused on that specific spot on my body. Why did that hurt? He climbed out and closed the door, flicking his jacket out around him, I felt it brush against me. Something sunk in the pit of my stomach. I slowly looked to my reflection once again, the man pulled his bag out of the back seat, clipping my leg. Rather - my back wheel. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run, I wanted to break free. I wanted to do anything. But I couldn't. I was stuck. I was my Impala.

February 25th, 1972: The spell hasn't worn off and I've given up hope. I will forever be a mind inside a car. At the mercy of those inside me. I'd been towed two weeks after first waking up. When no one had claimed me after two months I was put up for sale. Too cheap for a car of my caliber. A greasy man bought me and took me to Rainbow Motors. I've been here for four months, waiting, praying. It felt great when being towed. It was even better when I'd been driven from lot to lot.

April 30th, 1972: A young man came to the lot today, he spent a lot of time looking at me from the corner of his eye. I was begging him to buy me. He looked like he knew how to have fun. But he stayed close by a VW van. Another one sent here by his wife or fiancé, a car ready for kids. Then another man came in. He was around the same age as the VW man, but this one walked straight towards me. He touched my roof with such care. It was a caress, it was as close to love as I could imagine. Human touch was what I'd been craving, and had he stuck the keys in my ignition, I would've purred for him. He introduced himself to the other man and did a fair bit of talking, leading him towards me. They both placed their palms on my bonnet and I almost blew a piston. The man had talked the other into buying me. I was the happiest I'd ever been, except for when I'd bought this car. John, I’d heard him introduce himself, was careful and tender, but as soon as he had me on the open road, he pushed me to my limits, and I strived to go faster for him. It was a Sunday afternoon when John Winchester bought me, and there's not a place I'd rather be.

John Winchester would never know about me, how could he, but he was the first man to ever look at me with love and adoration. It was a simple love, one I could never truly give back, but I definitely tried. I was there when he proposed to Mary. They were in the backseat, keys still in my ignition, I heard him sigh, I heard Mary encourage him, and he finally asked the question. My happiness for them both seemed to ignite a power within me, as they collapsed together, shedding clothes, I heard the radio, Groovin’ on a Sunday afternoon… my favourite song. I'd done that. It went unnoticed, but now I knew I could communicate. I was there for Dean’s birth. I got Mary to the hospital for Sam. I was there to keep them from the cold when Mary died. The first time John left them in the car outside a bar, I found I could lock my doors, forever able to protect them, I'd then lull them to sleep with my song, the only song I could play, Groovin’. Sam even gave me a present, his most prized soldier, I've held onto it ever since. His little fingers buried it deep in the ashtray of my back passenger door. It had become just as much a part of me as Dean’s legos in my air vent. Just as much a part of me as the boys themselves, would one day become.

Hope you’re enjoying so far, Part 2

I slide my hands down my temples, feeling sideburns that were never more than baby fluff, now prominent and riddled with stubble from shaving. I feel my jaw to confirm my suspicion. Definitely itchy, ouchy, week old, stubble. I launch into sitting, the spread flying as my arms flail to pull the air to help me up. I come face to face with the mirror. But Dean’s staring back at me. No. I look down at my body and see a black undershirt across a flat chest and a podgy stomach. I reach beneath the blanket, between my legs. I kick out of the bed, collapsing off the side as if I could escape it. I hit the ground hard but clamber backwards, then up the wall when I reach it. Staring at the bed. The empty bed. “Sa-” I began, but upon hearing the low growl that came from my mouth I stopped. Was that voice mine? I decided to keep my mouth shut. I went back to the mirror, peaking around the edge, slowly waking to the harsh reality. Dean’s beat up face was staring back at me. His body copying mine each time I moved. His hand reached up, coming closer to the mirror, then touched mine through the cold surface. I focused on the back of my hand. Dean’s hand. I was in Dean’s body.

I was wishing we’d kept the warlock alive, just so I could torture him, when I thought of the boys. If I were in Dean’s body, surely that meant - “What the HELL are you doing? Get off me!” The high pitched female voice came from next door. Was that really what I sounded like? I was outside and banging on the door before I’d finished the vain thought. Sam ripped open the door and then stepped back, looking between me and Dean. “She just started-” Sam began to explain to who he thought was his brother. “You!” Dean yelled at me, but from my body. He was in my body. I felt as though he was invading my body. He was yelling at me with my voice, he was pointing at me with my finger, he was storming toward me with my feet, he was shoving me… He was shoving me. I grabbed his wrists and forced him to stop. His face pulling into a pained expression, a harsh hiss emitting from between his lips, no! My lips! I instantly let go of him, noticing we were both standing outside. Dean was still wearing what I fell asleep in, a tank top and comfortable, cotton panties. “Can we-” We seemed to have the same idea at the same time, me pushing his shoulder, him grabbing my wrist. Pushing and pulling we both stumbled back into mine and Sam’s motel room. “What the hell is going on?” Sam asked, looking between the both of us. “Body swap.” Dean and I snapped together, not taking our eyes off each other, that is until Sam snickered. Both of us sent him filthy looks, but I gently shoved his shoulder. Though a gentle shove from Dean seemed to put Sam off balance. And stop him laughing. “How’d this happen?” Sam asked, straightening up, not making an attempt to step closer to either one of us. “I don’t-” Dean began, but as Sam was asking, I saw a scratch on my chest. No, Dean’s chest. This was so confusing. But it was the exact same that I discovered on Dean’s chest while looking in the mirror earlier. I reached out and pulled the tank top down, revealing half my breast and the rest of the mark. “Du- Sorry.” Sam said, smacking at my arm then suddenly retracting his hand. Dean furrowed his brow, his eyes roaming my body, his body, mine now, finally finding what had made me react. He pulled the shirt aside and revealed the mark. “Son of a bitch.” He said, letting the shirt go and turning around, running his fingers through his hair, but finding much more than he was used to. “Ow! Ow!” Dean whined, trying to retract his fingers from the knot he’d created, only pulling on his scalp further. “Help.” He demanded, both Sam and I moved towards him, pausing at the same time. “Sorry - you fix it.” Sam muttered, scratching at the back of his neck. I smiled gently, it was nice to know he’d protect my modesty and help me with my hair, even if it wasn’t me any more! “Stop,” I flinched back as Dean raised his elbow, trying to pull free again, this time from a different angle. “Stop moving.” I instructed, more like barked. Dean went still quickly. “Is that really what I sound like?” He murmured, pulling a face when both Sam and I nodded. I fixed the immediate problem, finding more knots that I’d have to deal with before he made a real mess of it. “So the marks? That’s what caused … this?” Sam asked, gesturing between Dean and I. “You don’t have one.” I said, looking over his exposed chest, then raking over the rest of his exposed torso with my eyes. “Stop. Don’t...” Sam said, shaking his head furiously. “What?” I asked, taking a step towards him, worried something was wrong. But he backed away as I tried to draw closer. “You’re in my body. You can’t be looking at him like that!” Dean chastised, the look across his face was the one I’d seen in the mirror before I was about to be sick. Sam grabbed up the shirt from the back of the chair and pulled it over his head, covering his chiseled body. “I’m sorry! It’s hard.” I explained, sighing and raking a hand through my short hair. I now understood why Dean did this so often, it felt good, rough but calming. “Speaking of.” Dean said, pulling my arm and guiding me towards the bathroom, pushing me through the door and following me in, shutting a concerned Sam out. “What are you doing?” I complained, turning to face him in the small area. “Get that under control.” He said, nodding down my body. I looked down to see what he was talking about. I hadn’t realised until now that Dean slept in boxers and I could see the definite outline of his penis. MY PENIS. Lord no! I wanted back in my body, now! “Stop it, Dean!” I whined, as if asking an older brother to get rid of a scary spider. “What?” Dean looked incredulous, “I can’t, that’s all you. And-” He gagged, pushing the thought away, “Just…” He looked around the room, “Think of anything other than my br-” He gagged again. “Jesus!” I snorted, “Alright, umm… like what?” I asked, desperate to make whatever was happening in my pants stop. Dean’s eyes rolled as he began to rattle off a list. “Demons; the black eyes, the appearing suddenly, the snapping fingers,” I put a hand over his mouth and shook my head. He raised an eyebrow, forcibly removing my hand. “Really?” I could hear the judgement in his voice. “Now is not the time to judge!” The panic in my voice was evident and caused him to laugh. “Dean!” I sobbed, it was unfair. He was going to experience all the amazingness that comes with being a woman. I had just finished my period, so I was hyper aware, easily turned on and better yet, women can get away with these thoughts! “Uhh, Chuck - Chuck is watching.” He tried again, I rolled my eyes, it’s like he wasn’t even trying to help me, now. “Right, ok.” He muttered, noticing the unamused look I was wearing. “What about…” For a guy that seemed to be horny all the time, he sure wasn’t any help now. “President Trump.” Sam called through the door. I gagged, but it worked. I had been so interested in the debates leading to the election that I’d even refused to go on hunts. Now that dorito was running our nation. “Remember that for later.” Dean hissed, opening the door. “Later?” I asked, terrified.

After splashing water over my face and under my arms, I pulled on Dean’s clothes and joined Sam in the motel kitchenette. He had his laptop out, researching what the mark meant. “Found anything?” I asked, filling up the coffee pot and setting it to brew. “It’s definitely from the warlock. Sometimes it’s a curse, sometimes it’s determined by the caster themselves.” Sam explained. “But he’s dead.” I pointed out, reading the page over his shoulder. “You thinking Freaky Friday?” Dean asked, entering the room. He was in one of my flannels and a pair of jeans, but I could make out my chest, and I wasn’t happy. “Put a bra on.” I demanded, my voice louder than I meant it to be. Sam was startled and looked up at me then to Dean, tilting his head slightly. “Oi! It’s still me.” Dean barked at his brother, shielding his chest from anyone more staring. I pointed at the door and Dean huffed, marching back to my room to change again. “You were saying?” I pressed, hoping Sam would find a cure to this sooner rather than later. “So, the since he’s dead, it’s a curse. But I can’t find anything on how long it’s meant to last, or a way of switching you back. Like YN sa-- No! Like Dean, said.” Sam corrected himself faster than I could react. He bowed his head, resting it in his open palms, itching at his scalp. “It’s okay babe, it’s tough on all of us. We’ll find a cure.” I reassured, squeezing his shoulder, dropping my own head to the crown of his placing a gentle kiss there. “YN, come on!” Dean cried from the doorway. Sam had gone rigid under me and I realised what I was doing, I backed up quickly, colliding with the bench top. The only advantage so far; I would’ve hit my hip in my body, but I’d smacked the underside of my bottom. “Christ!” I groaned. Rubbing at my temple, as if I could push the reminder into my brain; no touching or staring till after we were back to normal. I looked back up at Dean, he was holding the offending piece of clothing, one he was clearly struggling with. “Jesus, Dean! If you can take one off, can’t you put one on?” I asked, rounding the table, making sure to keep my distance from the younger Winchester. Dean began to unbutton the plaid shirt right there. “Dude!” Sam chided, clearing his throat louder than necessary. “What? Not like we all haven’t seen them before.” He explained. I turned back to Sam and shrugged, it’s true. Dean had changed out of the tank top, I’m sure he would’ve copped a good look. “Turn around.” I instructed as he shrugged out of the top and I took the bra from him. Not like putting a bra on was a foreign occurrence, but putting one on someone else, no … my own body, was bizarre. All done up, I returned to the kitchenette to fix everyone coffee.

“I’m driving.” Dean ordered as we left the front office after settling payments.I spun the keys around my finger, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Not a chance!” I laughed, feigning terror as he gritted his teeth and flared his nostrils. “I really am ridiculous when I’m angry!” Sam chuckled then held his hands up when Dean turned on him. “Look, we’ll just head back to the bunker and ride it out there, okay?” Sam said, trying to calm Dean down. “I’m not going anywhere.” He moped, struggling to cross his arms in front of him with boobs in the way. He finally settled, pouting and raising a challenging eyebrow in my direction. “Oh, fine. Here. You drive.” I surrendered, throwing Dean the keys. He caught them, the smile that spread across his face would lead one to assume he’d stolen the grin from the Cheshire cat himself. Dean pumped his fist by his waist, climbing into the driver’s seat, I rolled my eyes as I opened the door and slid into the back. But I hadn’t taken full stock of my new height and smacked my head against the frame. “Jesus wept!” I cried, cradling my head in my hand, pulling the door closed behind me. “If I wake up with an egg on my head, I ain’t gonna be happy.” Dean threatened. “Can you two stop, already?” Sam was wearing his classic bitch face, scratching at his jaw as Dean and I stared at him, sure he could hear our collective you try being in your brothers/her body thoughts.

“Anything?” I asked as I entered the library, tapping Sam’s shoulder with the beer bottle. He took it from me, looking up then pointing to the book open in front of him. “So get this, the Freaky Friday curse is actually real,” Sam began to explain. “No fortune cookie, though.” I muttered, I couldn’t help myself. “Huh?” Sam asked, looking up, I shook my head as I kicked my feet up onto the table after settling into the chair. “Says something about learning to walk in anothers shoes.” Sam said, bowing his head to continue reading. I leaned forward, letting my feet fall to the floor. “I’m gonna need a time limit, Sam!” I pleaded, craning to look over the books myself. “Possibly a week, Dean, I’m not great at old Chinese spells.” Sam took a pull from his beer, looking back up to me, his eyebrows drawing in when he realized I was staring at him, angry. “You confused me for Dean.” I explained, even more annoyed that I had to tell him his mistake. “I’m sorry! You just, sound a lot a like.” Sam mumbled the last part, but I’d heard enough. “Dinner’s up!” Dean called from the kitchen. Sam stood and made a hasty exit, slinking out of my eye sight as I mentally cussed Dean for ever catching the Warlock’s trail.

Three days in and conversation had been easier tonight, just like any other, normal, night in the bunker. Dean and I had tried our hardest to not pick on each other, and the alcohol had been flowing freely, seeming to quiet our judgements of what the other was shoveling into their mouth. “Thanks for dinner, babe.” Sam said, leaning towards my body, towards Dean. Dean almost fell back, escaping Sam’s gesture. I watched on, the whiskey that I’d just sipped, dribbling out my open mouth. “Shit!” Sam said, as Dean caught himself before truly falling off the chair. Sam stormed out of the kitchen, head shaking and anger evident in his eyes. “Sam, wait.” I called, making sure Dean was okay before I followed the younger Winchester. His door slammed as I rounded the corner of the corridor. I knocked on his door and waited, no response. “Sam?” I asked, knocking again. On the first night I’d made the mistake of barging in while he was changing, something that wouldn’t normally matter, but as it was his brother he could see watching him… “I just need to be on my own.” Sam called back. I heard the flick of the TV and the news presenters get louder. I sighed, waiting a beat, just in case, then returned to the kitchen. “He okay?” Dean asked, the table cleared completely. I shrugged and went to the fridge, looking for the leftover pie. Dean gently nudged me out of the way and proffered the dessert. “Don’t eat it all. I want some left at the end of the week. I can’t keep going without it!” Dean muttered the last part to himself, turning back to the washing up.

“Hang on! What?” I asked, following him to the sink, leaning against the bench whilst he continued cleaning. “I haven’t had pie in a week!” Dean shrugged now. “Why not? We made it especially the other day!” I mumbled around the crust in my mouth, little crumbs flying out. “It’s your body, I don’t wanna just fill it up with crap.” He muttered again. “Aw, Dean!” I said, pulling him under one of my arms and locking him there as he fought to pry my forearm away from his cheek. Another advantage I found, being physically stronger and taller had advantages too. “Lemmegoh!” He grumbled into my shirt. He’d turned in my hold, facing me and pushing my stomach. Finally his head popped free and he sniffed, straightening his shirt and flattening his hair triumphantly. I couldn’t help but laugh, the small things we’d both learned over the few days had truly started to become habit. Dean and I stayed up late, another habit, looking over the books for anything Sam may have missed. But the topic quickly changed from damning warlocks and witches to what we missed most. “I miss Sam.” I said honestly. I also missed being tipsy after three beers, drunk after three whiskey’s. “I miss-chicks.” Dean slurred, I reached across the table and pulled the glass away from him. “Whoa, hey-hey!” He said, trying to reach for it. I picked it up and downed it, putting the bottle on the highest shelf I could reach. “Right. That’s enough for you. Bed.” I mothered, closing the books on the table and pulling Dean out of his chair. He stumbled on the first step and nearly fell completely on the second. “I haven bin drun in agesss.” He hissed, as I half carried him to his room. Dean’s actual room, it’s the one thing he’d refused to give up. I lay him across the bed and pulled off the shoes as he was scratching the heels trying to toe them off. “Sleep it off, tough guy.”

I was staring at my reflection, Dean’s face, in the bottom of my coffee mug when Sam walked in early that morning. “Morning.” Sam clipped, he headed straight to the sink and began to fill up his drink bottle. “Sam?” I questioned quietly, an idea forming. He didn’t make a noise but I could almost feel he was waiting. “Mind if I come for a run with you?” There was silence, not even a laugh. I turned to look at him. The bottle was overflowing, he was staring at me, through me, as if he could actually see ME! He audibly swallowed, reanimating, he shut off the water and took a sip from the top before putting the cap back on the bottle. “Sure.” He answered, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. I didn’t pause to ask more, I dashed off to Dean’s room, cracking the door open to see my body asleep, spread-eagle on the bed, tangled in blankets, hair fanned and covering my face, fast asleep. I tiptoed toward the drawers and pulled them out, looking for the track pants Dean sometimes wore around the bunker. Finding them, I pulled them on then went in search of running shoes. None. I was sure I’d seen him in some somewhere. I motioned to a stretching Sam, to wait one more minute whilst I ran down the hall to the garage. In a container of uniforms, there they were, sneakers. I pulled them on and wiggled my toes. Not bad.

I was out of breath when we reached the top of the dirt track, Sam was hardly breaking a sweat. “Good lord, I don’t know how he does it.” I rasped, holding me sides. Sam chuckled as he jogged on the spot. I stretched this way and that as I kept complaining. “He runs so fast…” gulp in, wheeze out, “when he’s being chased by a big bad…” hold breath, stitch. “Good for a sprint.” Sam summarized for me, while demonstrating how to stretch properly. I steadied my breathing and slowed my heart, ready for round two. With a nod from me and a smirk from Sam we set off again, this time a little slower, less talking, more breathing. We reached the top of the hill, looking down on the top of the bunker's entrance, as though it were an ant hole. “I don't think I've ever seen Dean sweat so much.” Sam quipped as I pulled at the shirt stuck to my chest, airing it, creating a cool breeze against my overheated skin. “I don't think I've ever sweat so much!” I gathered my remaining energy and smacked Sam’s arm. “Race ya!” I took off before he could even process what was happening, going as fast as Dean’s legs could carry me, pushing his body to the limit. I could hear Sam’s feet smacking at the ground behind me, hear his gusts of breath every time a foot landed on the track. I pushed harder, willing myself forward, I had to do this, not only for myself, but for Dean. Prove to Sam that Dean could do it, that what he ate didn't limit him as much as Sam thought. But here's another downfall as a man; I ran past a low hanging branch, the twigs clawed at my thighs and caught at my groin. As a female it wouldn't have worried me, I would've kept running, but the testicles hanging between my legs had a different idea, with the whip of one sole twig, I was doubling up, curling in on myself before my legs had stopped moving. I somersaulted across the dirt, my shoulders bouncing on the track, propelling me forward and onto my bum, throwing me to the side, where I finally stopped. Sam came to a stop, Holding himself up by his knees, his body shaking he was laughing so hard. I was unaware till then that I was cradling my junk, folded over, protectively, groaning. “ShutupSam.” I grit out. “Sorry, sorry!” He said straightening, only to double over again. “Fuckyou.” I spat, rolling over and onto my hands and knees, mentally preparing to stand up. Sam let out a long breath, regaining his composure and helping me stand. “Yeah, that would've been a shock.” He chuckled, though one look from me and the smile fell off his face. “Not another word, Sam, or you'll get a knee.” I warned, Sam nodded, his face stern.

“Mornin’-” Dean started, but upon turning and seeing me dirtied and sweaty his tone changed, “what the HELL, did you do to me?” He barked. “I took you for a run, but don't worry, I'll be the one feeling it tomorrow, not you. Unfortunately.” I muttered the last part, but received a filthy side eye anyway. Retreating to Dean's room, I flopped onto the side of the bed, resting my elbows on my knees. Why had the warlock chosen Dean and I, why not Sam and I, or hell, not me at all?! I pushed myself off the bed, grabbed a fresh change of clothes and headed for the bathroom. Showering whilst trying not to look or touch was a hard task. How does one effectively clean themselves and war with the idea that touching anything between your legs might be a slight against your boyfriend. Only in a hunting life would that thought even cross your mind. Once I'd washed my hair, so much faster now that it was inches long, and cleaned off the dirt and mud from my face, shoulders, torso and legs, I took a deep breath and reached down. Short curly hair, means he manicured - sweet Christ, don't analyze it! As my fingers ghosted further down, it was like a much needed touch. Like I'd been waiting for this moment since the first day. My cock came alive, stiffening almost immediately, rising upward. How was it that when I watched this happen to Sam I was ever more turned on, never thinking about what he was experiencing, now it was like watching a science experiment. I took hold of it, tentatively at first, but every cell within Dean's body, my body, seemed to scream for more. I closed my eyes and moved my hand, whatever felt right I did. Whatever brought me closer to the edge, I twisted my wrist, I pumped my fist, I circled my thumb over the tip, teasing the vein underneath. Fuck, so close. One more… I was cumming, in thick ropes of semen. The water turned cold just as I disgusted myself, my thoughts turning to guilt and fidelity, how right it had felt at the time, how wrong it felt now. How sickened I was by my own actions, yet I couldn't control it. It was almost robotic, it had to happen, I had to have release, and now…

“Y/N?” Dean said tentatively as he rounded the corner into my room, I pushed the headphones to around my neck as I sat up. I suppose I was, as Sam said, too much like Dean, only difference is I didn't blast my music, or listen to classic rock to unwind. “What's up?” I asked, waving him in. Since that morning I'd been avoiding the brothers, locked away and refusing to talk to Sam. Dean closed the door and approached the bed, keeping his head down, finally he looked up. “I think I know what happened.” Dean stated, frustratingly pushing the hair that had fallen into his eyes, out of the way. “I'm so-” I didn't know what to say or where to start, “I didn't mean to it just- I'm sorry, Dean. It’s insensitive of me- It's private and I just-” “Whoa! Hold up. What? What are you talking about?” Dean asked, trying to flip the rest of the long hair over his shoulder, frustrating him further. My mouth twitched, what did he mean, what did I mean? “What did you think…” I trailed off, staring at the furious woman that was Dean. He was struggling with this hair, badly. I stood up and pushed him down to sit on the side of the bed. I gathered my hair brush and tie. “You got worked up about Sam aga- OW!” Dean yelled as I tried to pull the brush through the tangled mass. I turned his head back, to face the front and tried again, as gently as I could where knots were concerned. “Not quite.” I offered, not willing to truly explain if he didn't actually know. “But you did something about whatever you were feeling?” Dean asked after a while. My hand fell to my side as I was caught in the reality of what I'd done. “I'm so sorry, Dean. I've violated your privacy and I… I…” I didn't know what more I could say to convey just how truly shit I felt about it. “You can…” I caught myself mid offer, what was I actually going to say? Offer him my body to do what he wanted with as long as he was in there, but then there was Sam to think about, it wasn't just me who'd face the repercussions of that, it'd be the younger Winchester as well. “Already have, darlin’.” His answer breached my thoughts as I swept his hair into a ponytail so as it was out of the way. “Sorry, what?” I snapped, letting the elastic snap against the back of his head. He rubbed the sore spot and turned to look at me with a shrug. “I've already tried it all out. It's a lot harder than women make it look.” That shit eating grin was begging to be wiped off. “How dare you!” I growled, giving him a shove, forgetting my strength, he fell back against the bed and bounced. “Whoa, you just confessed you'd done exactly the same, I just … beat you to it.” He rolled over the bed and stood on the other side, seeing that I was actually mad, whether at him or myself, neither of us knew. “It’s human to find release, being in a different body doesn't change that.” He explained, “Only means we know what the other looks like naked, now.” Dean winked before opening the door and disappearing.

I yawned wide and stretched my arms and legs, my muscles shaking with the intensity of the stretch. I ground the heels of my palms into my eyes, rubbing at the sleep, fingers itching at my hairline. Something was different. I ran my hands down my face, my jaw was smooth. Unless one of the boys shaved me in my sleep… I sat bolt upright, the weight on my chest, catching my attention. I looked down, GLORY BE! I cupped my breasts and squished them against my chest, letting out a sigh that felt like I'd been holding it for the last five days. I let go of my right breast and thrust my hand under the sheets… I didn't even care that I was naked. I was back in my body. I pushed myself off the bed and rushed to the door, catching my reflection in the mirror. My hair was a mess, and my hips were black and purple, damn Dean and damn those kitchen benches. I ran my fingers through my hair, I felt like the Little Mermaid with a dinglehopper, life was sweet once again. I ripped the door open and ran down the hall to Sam’s room. I didn't even bother knocking, bursting through his door in all my naked glory. “Dean! Urgh!” Sam called, throwing a pillow at me and burying his face in his hands. “Guess again, babe!” I said, dropping the pillow and closing the door behind me.

Periods. This was the only time since the swap that I had wanted to be a man again. I dragged myself into the kitchen to refill my hot water bottle. My hair a mess, grey circles under my eyes, the hunch to my back, I thought it was well enough warning to keep away, certainly enough to keep your hands off. But sure enough, Dean was still riding his infinite high, and slapped my ass as I walked past. “Touch me again and I'll cut off your balls.” I hissed, not stopping in my shuffle toward the kitchen. “Jeez! What's up with her?” Dean asked of Sam who was following at a distance.

“Did you not learn anything? You full on had a girl inside you for like a whole week!” Sam snapped. A moody Y/N meant an exhausted Sam. Dean chuckled, catching Sam's attention. His brother gave him a questioning look. “And my legs have never felt smoother!”

It’s a long day living in Reseda, there’s a freeway runnin’ through the yard. I’m a bad girl ‘cause I don’t even miss him, I’m a bad girl for breaking his heart. Jensen pulled the suitcase from the trunk and wheeled it to the door, finding it was unlocked, as always if she was home. No matter how many times he begged her to lock it, she seemed to always forget. And I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’. And I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’. He placed his case inside the door and followed her voice, she was singing. He loved to hear her sing. He wished she’d come and record for Jason, he’d even suggested a duet, but she wouldn’t, she’d get nervous just at the mention. She tried to record something for him once, but her anxiety took over and she almost threw up. Jensen leaned against the doorway and watched her as she washed out the sink of bleach she’d been scrubbing with. All the vampires walkin’ through the valley, they move western down Ventura boulevard. And all the bad boys standing in the shadows, and the good girls are home with broken hearts. He smiled as she wiped at her face with her shoulder and arm, catching a glimpse of him in her peripheral. She jumped, spinning. She pushed the inside of her wrist to her chest and shed the glove from her other hand, ripping out an earphone. “Baby!” She squealed. “Did I scare you?” He asked, the slight chuckle from knowing he had, only built when she shoved him in the chest. “Why didn’t you say something?” She asked, finally free of the other glove and headphone, she pulled him back to her by twirling a finger in the hem of his shirt. She slid her fingers over his chest, snaking her hands over his shoulders and around his neck. And just like a practised routine, Jensen bent to meet her awaiting lips with his, wrapping his hands under her thighs and lifting her with ease, wrapping her legs around his waist. “How long are you back for?” She asked, leaning away from his lips, brushing his nose with hers. “Tonight, conventions start tomorrow.” He breathed, it was a tough life, coming and going. She had her job, friends, and life here and he was constantly on the road. But every time he was home, or she came to visit, they spent every second together, they’d even bought this house together. But all this time apart meant that YN could get up to mischief, she’d known he was starting the convention circuit now, knew he was more than a little annoyed that he only had one night with her. So, with Jason’s help, she recorded a demo of his favourite song. With Rob and Rich’s help, she was joining the convention. Little did Jensen know, she’d taken the next five months off, partly for him, partly for the expansion of her company into Vancouver. And with more help from friends, she had a little something up her sleeve, if only the butterflies and the doubt would ebb long enough. “So we better make the most of it.” She breathed against him, he smiled and fit their lips back together, like the puzzle pieces they were.

“YNN, let…” Jensen chuckled as he tried to gently pry your fingers open from where they’d locked behind his neck. “No. They have you for long enough.” She pouted into the crook of his neck. “You’re stronger than I remember.” Jensen said, resting for a moment, awkwardly across the top of your body on the bed, his feet still planted to the floor. “Please don’t go.” She whispered against his collarbone, relinquishing her grip. He held himself up, hovering over her, searching her eyes. “Need me to stay?” He asked, she could see how serious the question was. She sighed and reached up, letting her lips linger against his till her muscles ached and her neck threatened to seize up. “They need you. I want you.” She murmured against his lips, pecking them one last time. “I love you.” He said, pushing his lips against her forehead before he stood up. He cupped her cheek with his hand, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone as he memorised the look of her, naked under his gaze, warm and blushing for him. She turned her head into his palm, holding his hand in place as she planted a kiss in the center, then folded his fingers around it. “Hold on to it for me.” She made him promise and he nodded. “Now, Mr. Ackles, go or else you’ll be late.” She warned, kicking at his bottom as he walked around the bed. He stopped at the door and looked back at her, she raised an eyebrow at him, they both chuckled after a moment of silence and he turned, shaking his head. She got up and watched him from the window, still naked as he looked up while climbing into the car, he smiled and winked. It didn’t go unnoticed that he still had his fist clenched around her kiss.

“Hey Rob, how you doing?” She answered the phone as she collected her luggage off the carousel. “Where are you?” He asked, it sounded like it had all kicked off already. “Just got off the plane. They already on?” She asked, hearing Jared’s distant laugh through speakers, the question answered itself. “Yeah, Jason said he’d collect you. He’ll run over the song a few times and get you in without anyone seeing.” Rob answered, she could hear Rich in the background, second last question, I’ll go find our lucky last. “Thanks Rob, for everything.” She said goodbye and hang up, tucking the phone into her pocket, she looked over her bags, satisfied she had everything, she wheeled out to the awaiting families, friends and cabbies. Sure enough Jason was there with a sign SUPERSTAR. She smiled and navigated through the crowds over to him. “Really?” She asked, nodding at the sign after hugs and kisses were exchanged. He took her large bag and guided her to the exit. “Thought you’d get a kick outta that!” He smiled. Once in the car he put on her demo and insisted they go over it. She sung, timid at first, but with a nice long pep talk from Jason, she belted it out the second time round. “Nice, we’ll get you recording for real, yet!” He said, nudging her arm with his elbow. She shook her head, letting her Y/C/H hair hide her reddening cheeks. “Can we listen to anything else, I swear this song has been the only thing I’ve listened to for months.” She whined, turning their attention to anything else. Jason punched a button on the dash and the radio blared ‘Proud Mary’ at them, they shared a smile before joining in, happy and carefree, her nerves settled for the moment.

The band played their last note, Rob swung his guitar and everyone finished. YN was watching from the very back of the room, standing behind one of Cliff’s men, Steve. Rob pushed his guitar round to his back and stepped back to the microphone. “We should make a move.” Steve whispered over his shoulder, pushing the door behind her open. “Please welcome to the stage, Jensen Ackles.” Rob’s voice echoed through the speakers just as Steve ushered her out. She turned around and pouted at him as he nudged her forward while chuckling. “You’d be surprised at just how perceptive he is to an audience.” Steve promised, but she knew that all too well already. “You can wait in the green room, he won’t be back till the songs over.” Steve explained, opening the door to the open room that housed most of the bored cast. “YNN!” Jared called, crossing the room and hoisting her into a bear hug, lifting her off the ground. “Nice to see you too, big guy!” She laughed, her arms were pinned by her side as he squeezed her tight. “I thought you were working?” Misha said, looking at Steve and Jared as he pecked her cheek. “So does Jensen, please don’t say anything!” She begged, he gave a sly smile and nodded. “YN! What are you doing here?” Kim asked, jumping out of her seat to pull YN into a swaying hug. “Trying to surprise Ackles!” YN answered, collapsing onto the sofa between Brianna and Matt. “Hey, YNN?” Rich called as he came through the door that lead to the stage. YN put her hands out for Rich to pull her up from the couch, which he did and straight into a hug. “Jason asked me to run through warm ups with you…” He pulled a face as he saw the colour drop from hers. “Just breathe, YNN. Remember why you’re here.” Jared was suddenly whispering reassurances in her ear, thankful she had a friend like him. She squeezed the hand on her shoulder and nodded at Rich.

Jason’s prepared something special for us, so while we take a breather, please make him feel welcome! Rich introduced before placing the mic next to Jason, who was already seated and setting up his guitar. The crowd quieted down as Jason tapped the mic. “Howdy y’all, thanks for having me.” The band behind Jason squeezed past YN on their way off stage, all patting her back and wishing her good luck. Jensen and Rob were still on stage, meandering back as Jensen wasn’t aware of the switch up of plans. “Do y’all mind if I bring a special someone out here?” Jason asked, the crowd whooped and applauded in agreeance, “Thanks! She’s someone I’ve wanted to work with for ages, she’s a last minute addition to the show…” Jason looked round at Rob who whispered something into Jensen’s ear, his jaw dropped. “Please give a warm, Jax welcome to YFN YLN!” He called, holding his hand out to the side of the stage, Rich gave YN a push out into the light. All the nerves and butterflies and doubting voices had assured her it would be terrifying, that she’d see disapproving faces and the lights would be too bright. But it wasn’t. The audience was screaming and cheering and whistling, but she couldn’t see their faces, the lights made the room in front of the stage black, yet they didn’t blind her. She smiled at Jason and waved at the anonymous pit of applause. Rob was walking toward her, leaving a dumbfounded Jensen standing on the side of the stage. “You’ll smash it.” Rob whispered as he pecked her cheek on the way past, she winked at him and continued over to Jason, patting him on the shoulder, collecting her microphone, ignoring her statue of a boyfriend for the moment. “Hey y’all! Thanks for having me!” The crowd cheered again, a few people yelled out different welcoming phrases. YN turned to Jason and nodded, he smiled and began strumming, she looked over at Jensen then, holding one of her hands out to the side. “Surprise baby! This is for you!” He’s a good boy, loves his mama, loves Jesus and America too. YN began, enjoying the shocked look on her man’s face, but there was an audience and they deserved a show if you were gonna interrupt their paid weekend. He’s a good boy, crazy ‘bout Elvis, loves horses and his girlfriend too, yeah, yeah. YN really got into it on stage, broke free from her stand by Jason’s side and moved across the stage, relishing in the fans singing along to the chorus. Now I’m free fallin’, now I’m free fallin’... I wanna glide down over Mulholland, I wanna write his name in the sky. I wanna free fall out into nothing, I’m gonna leave this world for a while. Now I’m free, free fallin’, fallin’ Free fallin’... YN finishes, letting Jason playout the ending. Once the last note from the guitar fades, it’s silent for a moment, no one moves, no one breathes, then the room erupts. Jason removes his guitar and places it in the stand, bringing her into a tight hug, whispering congratulations and how she HAS to record for him now. Jensen crosses the stage, mouth open. He’s speechless, and Jensen speechless is truly a compliment. He lifts her in his arms, his mouth moulded to hers, hoping beyond hope that he’s conveying everything through touch as words would not do him justice. He releases her lips and lets her slide down his body till she’s on her feet. She brings the mic she hadn’t let go of, back up to her mouth. “I believe you have something of mine.” She says clearly, no one in the room understands except for him. He smiles and brings his fist around from her back. The room goes quiet as he releases her and brings his hand between them, opening his fingers, one by one till his palm is facing her. A simple ring in the center of his hand. No one else can see what she can, they don’t understand the reason she almost drops the mic, or why her eyes begin to water. Then he gets down on one knee. There are shouts, whistles, cries, and sobs from the crowd as he takes the mic from her hand and gives it to Jason who’s still on stage, Jason positions it between the couple. “YFN YLN, would you do me the absolute honour, of becoming my need.” He asks, beaming up at her, tears flowing from both their eyes, another small comment only they and close friends would understand. “My want an’ need.” She answers, pulling his face up to hers, pecking his lips several times, running her thumb under his eyes to wipe away the tears. He slips the ring on to her finger, then pulls her back to him, cradling her in his arms, so tight that her molecules might just shift and fit together with his to form one perfect combination. “Did you just say wanton need?” He whispered into her ear so only she would hear, he felt her lips pull up into a smile as her head faintly nodded yes. “I didn’t tell you, the business is expanding to Vancouver, we’ll actually have a home that we both live in.” She said, pulling back to look into his eyes, searching for a sign that this was another good surprise. Fresh tears spilled over as he pressed his lips back to hers. But it doesn’t matter where they live for he knew that he was home when her lips touched his.

“You’re not my DAD!” She shrieked, it was worse than a banshee’s scream. The door slammed, shaking the cement structure of the bunker. Dean groaned, wiping his hand down his face, he collapsed into the chair opposite Sam and stole his whiskey, downing it in one mouthful. “She's stubborn, unruly, ungrateful and …” Dean shook his head, snorting at the endless list. “Your daughter.” Sam finished. Dean groaned again and sunk into his palms. Dean was at a loss, Claire, at her worst, wasn't this bad. “Cass?” Dean called out, he knew it’d be useless, Cass hadn't answered his prayers in weeks, he hadn't seen the boys in just as long. Sam gave him a sad look. “What, Sam?” Dean snapped, Sam sat back and shook his head. “Turning to Cass for advice about your daughter.” He explained, watching his brother, worry evident in his features. “Call Jodie, I know what you think,” Sam quickly said before Dean could reject the idea again, “but she helped with Alex and Claire, I'm not saying we dump YN with her, just ask for advice.” Sam pleaded, Dean let out a heavy sigh and pulled out the phone from his pocket.

“Sam,” Jodie greeted, pulling the tall man in for a hug, she was quickly pulled out of the embrace by the hushed shouting coming from the Impala. Dean looked at wits end, YN was still inside the impala, playing a game of locked doors! “Dean!” Jodie called, waving him over, “leave her.” She instructed. “But… baby.” Dean moped, Jodie clapped him on the shoulder. “Does she have the keys?” Dean shook his head, “Then she has to come in sometime!” Jodie pulled the older brother in for a tight, comforting, hug.

“Dean, she's missing her mother and you've whisked her away to something she doesn't know. Is she going back to school at the end of the holidays?” Jodie asked, putting a mug of fresh coffee down in front of the boys before collapsing into her arm chair. Dean hadn't given it any thought, he was just trying to get through the summer holidays, if he could deposit her at school that'd mean less time arguing with her. But as Dean opened his mouth to answer there was the unmistakable rev from the Impala. Dean was out of his chair faster than a vampire sniffing blood. “YN! Don't you dare!” Dean yelled across the lawn, running for the door. YN wiggled her fingers, flashed her teeth and took off, burning rubber on the curb. “She doesn't have the keys, what can she do.” Dean muttered, mocking Jodie’s reassurance from earlier. He was fuming, Sam was sure Dean would actually murder YN this time.

Her phone went for the seventh time, she rolled her eyes and smacked the green button then pushed the speaker. “Hello?” She answered, a bit abrasive but she had to smile when her father was already blowing up on the other end. “-get back here this instant, or I swear to-” Dean was yelling. “Who is this?” She asked, laughing to herself when it set him off further. “You know damn well who it is. Stop playing and bring Baby back, NOW!” Dean was growling, almost panting at the end of his demand. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” YN teased, revving the Impala hard, just to rev Dean up! “DAMN IT, YN. I’m not joking around.” There was a fuss on the other end of the phone. “Hi, YN?” A female asked. “Who’s this?” YN bit back, slowing down a little. “It’s Jodie. I get that you-” “Jodie? As in the one that’s meant to sort me out?” YN scoffed, picking up the speed again. “Listen, kid, your Mom died, and that’s bloody rough, it’s not fair and it shouldn’t have ever happened.” Jodie had begun her speech, but YN had heard this from Sam already, maybe not as blunt, but something similar. “You don’t get it, try losing family, then -” YN swerved, the wheels scratching in protest against the gravel, unable to gain traction against the loose ground. “YN?” Jodie yelled into the phone, “YN, what’s happening? Are you alright?” There was a commotion on the end of the phone, either Dean was scrabbling to get the phone back or she was struggling to find loud speaker. The car slammed to a stop against a fence post, folding the corner in with a crunch. YN straightened in the driver’s seat, wiping her hand across her forehead and hissing when she came across a gash at her hairline. “YN? Dammit!” Dean snapped on the other end of the phone, it pulled her out of the shock induced haze. She reached into the passenger’s footwell and grabbed the phone that had fallen down. “I think…” She turned around in her seat, the road was empty. She was sure someone had been there. “He came outta nowhere, but now he’s…” She unbuckled her seatbelt, “I’m just gonna,” She began to open her door, but fell out when someone on the other side ripped it wide. The man’s hand began to pull her up by her hair, she cried out and struggled with his hand. “Get off me! Let me go!” She screamed, kicking and thrashing at the young man. He was much stronger and taller than her and it took nothing to withstand her feeble attempts to fight. “YN!” Dean’s voice was clear from the receiver, it actually filled the car he was so loud. “Dad!” YN screamed before the man smacked her head against the side of the car. She instantly went limp and fell to the ground. The man stepped over her and picked up the phone. “How lucky am I to have come across Dean Winchester’s daughter?” The man laughed, he could hear Dean’s heavy breathing. “Leave her where you found her and I won’t slaughter you.” Dean barked down the phone. This made the man snort, he was so full of confidence in his plan, he didn’t need to be scared - so he thought. “I’ll make you a deal, I’ll hand her over if you come to pick her up.” Dean knew this was too good to be true. “Alone.” The monster breathed the last word before hanging up, it was as if the man were standing by Dean, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

“I can’t believe you talked us into this.” Jodie voiced her disapproval for the hundredth time. Sam had been a silent mess since the call, all for tracking YN’s phone, he hadn’t said a word, not even about Dean’s crazy plan. “I’m not saying go home, just … hang back.” Dean instructed once more, tucking a spare gun into the back of his pants and checking the blade at his hip. “Dean, we don’t even know what you’re walking into.” Jodie gave one last try at making him see reason, but she knew better, she would do anything for her girls, hell - she had. Dean closed the door quietly and disappeared into the treeline.

“Why me, huh? Couldn’t take Dean down yourself?” YN sniped, twisting her wrists against the hard, cold, chains holding her arms above her head. The young man backhanded her out of annoyance. The results of her other attempts at sass mouthing was already swelling her left eye closed. “You are worse than your father.” The man groaned, rubbing the raw spot on his knuckles. “All mouth, no plan. Speaking of… where is he?” The man moved to the window and peaked out the blinds. YN opened her mouth, clicking her jaw before spitting out blood. “You really are stupid.” She truly was amazed by his ignorance. He spun on his heel and was on her in a second, hand raised, but she didn’t flinch. Even though her cheek bone was an angry red, her eye swollen shut, lip split and bleeding from previous disciplining, she was strong, or dumb. He narrowed his eyes, trying to decide which. “How’s that?” He demanded, dropping his hand, raising his eyebrow instead. “You nabbed the wrong Winchester, moron.” She informed, as if it were obvious. “Dean doesn’t care about me. If you really wanted to piss him off, you should’ve taken Sam.” He laughed, a hearty, sadistic, laugh. Now who was the moron. “You really think Dean Winchester won’t come to save you?” The man began to laugh again, but something silenced him, he stood up straighter, head tilted to one side, listening, then he relaxed and pointed at the door just as someone knocked on it. “Come on, asshole. I’m here. Don’t go shy now.” Dean called from the other side. YN audibly groaned. She truly had thought she was alone in this, or at least had hoped. “You were saying?” The man whispered as he went to answer the door. “How nice of you to join us.” The young man quipped as Dean stepped into the cabin. His eyes flew to YN, taking in her beaten face and the restraints. He turned his attention back to the man, a new anger bubbling inside him. “I’m here. Now, let her go.” Dean snarled.

“Don’t worry, Sam, she’ll be okay.” Jodie reassured while watching Dean step up to the door at the cabin. They both slipped out from the truck’s cab, closing the doors quietly, the slight click the only audible noise from the car. “It’s not that.” Sam whispered as they drew their weapons and stalked into the woods. Jodie threw him a look that screamed explain. “I can’t help think, if I’d stepped in sooner, or if we asked you to come to us…” Sam trailed off as they approached the cabin. With the light from the windows, Jodie could see how this was eating at Sam. “Sam,” she whispered, “You’ve met Alex and Claire, teen girls will always do what they want. You just gotta let them get it outta there system.” Sam was skeptical and she snorted, “While providing an ear and strict rules.” Jodie finished.

The man shoved Dean against the wall with surprising speed, quickly overpowering him into a headlock. YN had seen plenty of crime and action on screen, the man’s arm was tight against Dean’s throat and Dean’s face was bright red, struggling to pull the man’s arm away. “Don’t worry, Dean. I’m not gonna kill you just yet. I’m gonna make you watch as I kill your daughter.” He smacked Dean’s head against the wall, before he could argue, efficiently knocking him out cold. YN watched on in horror, the man’s words ringing in her ears, kill your daughter. “NO!” Dean yelled, capturing Sam and Jodie’s attention. They both bolted through the remaining trees towards the cabin, Sam reached the door first, bursting through. YN was held tight against a man’s front, claws threatening to puncture her throat. His eyes were yellow, his stare fierce as he surveyed the larger Winchester in the doorway. Dean was tied to a chair, positioned directly in front of the two, as if watching a show. Sam trained his gun on the man’s temple, what was visible just over YN’s shoulder. Jodie entered then, out of breath but gun raised and ready. “Remember me, Winchester?” the beast snarled, his eyes resting on Dean, whose jaw was clenched, every muscle pulling against the restraints holding him to the chair. “You killed my mother.” the man spat when there’d been no answer. “Amy Pond. You’re Jacob?” Sam asked, his gun lowered to waist level, moving away from Dean. The man had to maneuver with YN to keep eye contact with the taller hunter, giving Jodie the opportunity to silently work on Dean’s binding’s. Jacob’s grip slackened, his face fell from a snarl to sadness. “You were good to her Sam, she told me about the hunter that helped her escape.” The kitsune said over YN’s shoulder, still using the teenager as a shield. His grip tightened again, worse than before, the tip of a claw catching in YN’s neck, breaking the skin and drawing a whimper from her, eyes tight shut as she waited. “That’s why this won’t be easy.” Jacob shouted, and as if in slow motion, many things happened at once. The young man’s muscles flexed in preparation to dice YN’s throat. YN’s lips formed her last words I’m Sorry. Sam brought his gun up in front of his face. Jodie screamed NO! Dean dove from the chair, launching at the man, catching him around the waist. Time caught up; Jacob and Dean fell to the floor, Jacob’s claws catching at YN’s skin, leaving a trail of shallow red lines down her neck, collarbone and arm. Jodie followed the motion, tracking the movement of arms and legs as hunter and hunted scrambled on the floor. Sam was at YN’s side in a flash, helping her out of the restraints, catching her as she collapsed, the blood finally flowing back into her fingertips making them tingle with pins and needles. Jodie let off a shot. “No!” Sam called, gesturing for Jodie not to shoot again. He was a misunderstood young man that Sam felt for, Jacob could surely be saved. But as Sam looked back to his brother and the beast, he discovered Dean was pinned, claws inches from his face. YN pushed out of Sam’s grip, grabbing at the knife she knew he kept in his belt loop. She plunged the knife into Jacob’s back. His body arched away from the blade, but YN followed him, grasping at his shoulder and jerking the knife further into him. Jacob let out a gurgled moan before his body slumped, dead weight collapsing to the side of Dean. “We could’ve…” Sam began but Jodie clapped his shoulder and shook her head, she knew that feeling all too well, we could’ve saved him, talked sense into him. But once a man turns beast, there’s no coming back. Dean sat up, pushing Jacob’s limbs off his legs. “Dad!” YN threw herself at her father, falling into his lap, collapsing against his chest and winding her arms around him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She sobbed. Dean looked at Jodie and Sam then back at his teenage daughter, pulling her close against him, reassuring her. “You’re okay. You’re safe now, sweetheart.” Dean muttered into the top of her head, his lips resting in her hair. “I don’t wanna lose you too.” She whimpered into his jacket. Her words froze him in place, finally he thawed and pulled her back to look at him. The claw marks on her neck, the bruises on her face, and her swollen eye were a reminder that he had to protect her no matter the cost. “Listen to me, YN. I’m not going anywhere.” He said, his grip on her shoulders tightened as he shook her slightly. “You hear me?” He asked, kissing her forehead and pulling her back under his chin as she gave a faint nod.

The drive back in the Impala was quiet. Sam had volunteered to go with Jodie, giving Dean and YN time to talk. YN looked over at him through her good eye, concentrating on the lines around his eyes, the serious set of his jaw, the sullen line by his lips, the permanent frown in his brow. Dean turned to glance at her, feeling her eyes on him, she quickly turned, looking back out the window. “You okay?” Dean asked, hoping she wouldn’t reply with some smart-ass quip, much like he would. “I’m not going anywhere either.” She murmured, stealing a look at him in the reflection of her window. Dean glanced over at her again, instead of a child entrusted to him by a woman he hardly knew, he saw a Winchester. He saw his daughter.

He'd picked her up from a hunt gone wrong. The police had wanted to take her to foster care, but she'd cried and cried. Something about her had Bobby up and swear to raise and protect her. But she’d also come with her own challenges. Weeks went by without a word; Bobby put it down to her seeing her parents death. Dean had been that way after Mary died. But then months went past, and she seemed content enough with her new home, but still not a word. “Watch out, sweetheart.” Bobby called as she ran along the gravel behind the boys, but too late. Her foot caught in a pothole, and she sprawled across the ground. Bobby rushed over to her, and the boys stopped in their tracks, looking back worried. “You’re ok, Bunny.” Bobby helped her to her feet and began to pull her into a hug, the first show of physical affection. She looked terrified and ripped her arm from his hand, tears beginning to spill, so Bobby immediately dropped his hands, shocked that this little girl, the girl he now looked to as his daughter, was terrified of him. “What happened?” Sam asked, the three of them staring at Bonnie. “Why is she crying, Uncle Bobby?” “I’m sorry, Bun, I’m sorry,” Bobby whispered, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans, thinking it over, hoping for the best, suspecting the worst. Dean had gained plenty of experience with looking after Sam, ever the big brother, he grabbed Sam’s hand and waved Bonnie over. She stared at them through her tears, the sobs stopping. “Come on.” He encouraged, and with that, she wiped her eyes and followed them up the gravel path, as if nothing had happened.

Bobby took her to a children’s shrink, out of his depth and terrified that he would be traumatizing her more by not getting her help. His old man had been a terrible father, and being a parent was--well, it made hunting look easy. “Mr. Singer, she’s showing some of the classic signs of Asperger's. Do you know what that is?” Bobby shook his head and the kind lady continued in a soft voice that wouldn’t upset Y/N. “It’s a part of the Autism Spectrum. It's not unusual for children with this condition to be more physical than verbal, but not a word in months does raise some concern. Do you mind leaving us so I can ask her some questions, see if she responds to any of our tests?” Bobby was unsure, but she'd come to be his whole world, and there was precious little he wouldn't give to know what was going on in her head, to hear her talking to him. “What kind of tests?” Bobby asked, looking over the little girl at the lego table. He was out of his depth, but his protective instincts were still strong. “Cards with pictures, the norm for children of six years.” Bobby took a deep breath. “Bunny?” She looked up at the older man, “I’ll be right outside, ok?” He assured, pointing to the door. The doctor held it open for Bobby, and he stepped through. He caught a glimpse of her confused face as she got up from the table and took a step in his direction, then the door was shut. Bonnie wasn't stupid, she was well aware that there was something different, but she didn't want to be left with the Doctor. As she walked towards the door, the doctor stepped in front, crouching to her level. “Bonnie, I need to ask you a question.” She tried to catch Bonnie’s attention. Bonnie’s hands began to twist between each other, her fingers winding this way and that. “Bonnie, Bobby’s just on the other side of the door. I promise.” The doctor tried again but Bonnie looked down at her feet, shuffling them against the carpet, swaying slightly. “Bonnie?” The doctor reached out, touching the little girl’s shoulder, attempting to gain her attention. “Bobby!” Bonnie screamed, loud and clear enough through the door. Her savior burst through the door; he looked astonished as his adopted daughter hid behind his legs, tears fresh in her eyes and making tracks on her cheeks already. “What happened?” Bobby asked, angry and confused, watching the little girl who was holding the knee of his jeans. “I touched her shoulder and startled her. I should’ve known better. I’m sorry, Mr. Singer.” The apology reached the doctor’s eyes. Bobby took a deep breath and nodded. “We can make another appointment; I can give you brochures and other reading material, and in the meantime I can put you in touch with a group for parents who face similar problems?” The doctor offered, going back to her desk, already collecting up reading material. Bobby accepted the pamphlets, and said he’d call about another appointment, unsure of what was best for Bonnie at this very moment.

“Bunny, Boys, breakfast!” Bobby called up the stairs, the boys had been left behind by John, again. Dean and Sam understood, now they were older, if Bonnie wanted to be with them, she would; if she didn't, she wouldn't. Bonnie came down the stairs, close to tears as she struggled with one of the buttons on her overalls. “Help, please.” She sniffed as she approached Bobby. He would always want to hug her, to hold her tight and tell her everything was ok, to kiss her forehead and tuck her in. But after the first attempted hug resulted in terror and tears, he’d understood deep down, physical touch for her was different, it was more intimate, so he was hyper-aware of every second of contact. Being her father was certainly a learning curve, each day was a new lesson, each word a new memory, each smile a light for the darker times. The first shrink appointment hadn’t gone to plan, sure, but, what is it they say; try, try again? The ongoing meetings had opened her up, and she'd become more talkative - for her anyway! He bent to her level and carefully fixed the button into the loop, securing the suspender. “There you go, Bun.” He smiled, encouraged when she actually met his eyes and returned the smile before sliding away to go sit in her regular seat. Bobby stood up, called for the boys again, and then turned to serve breakfast.

One day Bobby was fixing up a car, it wasn’t all hunting after all, when Bonnie came home from school. She dumped her bag and sat on a nearby tire, watching her adoptive father work. Bobby caught her craning her neck a few times to see what he was doing, and after the third time he gestured for her to join him. “Wanna help?” He asked, beaming when she nodded and jumped up. “What does this part do?” She asked, pointing at the timing chain. “That holds this,” He pointed at the camshaft, “And this,” he pointed at the crankshaft, “in the same position to each other while the engine’s running. If this stops working, you ain’t going nowhere.” He watched as she nodded and processed it all, then she pointed at another part. “And that?” “That’s a spark plug, it creates a mini-explosion between the air and compressed fuel, that make this one work,” he pointed to the row of four cylinders. “It looks like a … piston?” She squinted as she tried to remember her science class. “Yeah, look at you! Do you know what it does?” Bobby asked, she was incredibly smart and this was possibly the longest two-way conversation they’d ever had. He watched and listened as she explained what she’d learnt about pistons, and he was brimming with pride and love for this girl. It became the regular afternoon with them, she’d get home from school and help on the cars. Bobby was thrilled to finally have a way to connect with her.

“Bunny?” Bobby called up the stairs, turning to Rufus, “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to touch other people’s stuff?” He growled, ripping the compass out of the older man’s hand. Rufus chuckled but looked up at the creak in the stairs. “Hiya, Bonbon, keeping out of trouble?” Rufus asked as Bonnie came down the stairs. “Yes.” Bonnie replied, her only greeting accompanied with a polite smile. “This kid’s a keeper!” Rufus said with a laugh. Bonnie’s eyebrows drew in at his remark, she looked at Bobby, alarm evident in her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you want to keep me?” She asked, concerned. “Sweetheart, he’s just… it’s just a saying. It doesn’t mean anything.” Bobby smiled at her while swiping at Rufus with the back of his hand. “Where are you going this time?” She asked, taking in his suit and tie, catching a glimpse of the fake badge as he raised his arm. “Outta state, but I’ll be back before school on Monday.” He answered. “What is it?” “A pissed off spirit.” Rufus answered, he’d moved to Bobby’s desk and was shuffling through papers. Bobby rolled his eyes at his friend’s manners but looked backed to his daughter. “So you don’t need the badge.” She stated, looking at her watch as she went to fix herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Bobby shared a look with Rufus, he’d be here forever if he tried to fight Bonnie’s logic; she didn’t like that he lied, actually she didn’t understand why he had to lie. Bobby put the badge down next to her on the bench and fought the urge to kiss her temple. “I’ll be back first thing Monday. Promise.” A few years back, after explaining to Bonnie why he posed as an FBI agent, why he had to lie, he’d kept a spare badge in the glovebox. It hurt, lying to his daughter, but he kept telling himself, what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Bobby checked up on her that night, calling before she went to bed, make sure she’d eaten and hadn’t studied all day. He called her on Sunday morning after her shower, everything was to a schedule for Bonnie, easy for Bobby to follow along. She spent the day fixing engines, Sunday was her free day after all, she treated herself to pasta for dinner, even though it wasn’t thursday, but when Bobby hadn’t called and it was past her bedtime, she worried. She called his mobile, she called Rufus’s, she even called Sam to see what she should do. Bonnie had polished all the pistons she found in the car yard and laid them in a line down the hall, she’d mapped the length and breadth of the house from one room to another, she was rewiring the TV when Bobby arrived home. “Bunny? What are you doing up?” He asked surprised to find her awake at two-thirty on a school night. He had ash in his beard, blisters on the insides of his fingers and thumb, dirt under his fingernails and in the creases around his eyes. “You said you’d be back first thing Monday. You promised.” She was angry and upset, but determined to finish putting the TV back together now that she was half way through. Bobby dumped his bag by the door and removed his cap, scratching at the top of his head, what did she - Oh. “Sweetheart, I meant…” Bobby had realised his mistake, by promising first thing she’d taken him literally, as she so often did. “I’m sorry, darlin’. Forgive me?” He asked, crouching next to her. She looked up and stared at his cheek. “Yeah. But don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” She muttered, returning to the TV once Bobby nodded and stood up.

She was nearing the end of high school, top of all her classes, while still helping Bobby on the cars. When the boys stayed for prolonged periods of time she’d let Dean help on the cars and engines, chatting away about the mechanics they’d both learned to love. But Sam was her best friend; they got along like a house on fire, and even though she was six years older, she helped him with homework, stayed up talking to him, even let him lean on her, touch her - much to Bobby’s amazement. Her graduation rolled around, and the boys begged John to let them go to the ceremony to cheer her on. It had taken Bobby days to convince her to attend and many late night calls to Sam to even make her think about getting up on the stage. The day came and she was nowhere to be found. Bobby was going mad, knowing they’d be late, but he couldn’t find her anywhere until he spotted her tucked into the hollowed out car that she’d used as a safe cubby ten years ago. His heart broke at the sight of her. “We don’t have to go.” She had tear streaks down her face and had a line of polished pistons in front of her; she must have scoured every engine here. “The boys can just come back here, and we can have pizza.” He assured, leaning against the rusted truck. She shook her head, her jaw tightening in determination. “I promised Sam.”  She sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. “But I don’t want anyone to clap.” She’d always hated loud noises, the exception being a roaring engine. Bobby smiled and patted her arm. “Deal.” He agreed. He remained calm on the outside, knowing what a struggle this was for her, but on the inside he was ecstatic, getting to see his baby girl up on the stage, showing off her smarts.

Bonnie Singer, her name rang through the open grounds and she stood up, her heart thundering in her throat. She kept her eyes down, her feet moving, as she rushed the stage and grabbed her certificate and ran down the other side, not even stopping to shake hands. Bobby was glad they’d asked everyone to keep applause to the end and shuffled over to allow her to sit between him and Sam. When the final speech was made and everyone stood and cheered, throwing their hats into the air, she covered her ears, turning towards Sam for cover. He laughed and took the hat off her head, throwing it up into the air for her. “Bonnie you looked great up there, I think I even got a photo!” Dean declared, giving her a large smile. She smiled back, not making eye contact, it was clear she was anxious. “Well done, Bonbon.” Sam cheered, pulling her into a one armed hug, she tensed but didn’t push him off. Bobby had grown to envy the youngest Winchester’s ease with her. “I’m so proud of you, Bun!” He smiled, a tear in his eye. He was desperate to do what Sam had, to even be able to squeeze her arm would be a miracle, but he respected her comfort zone, knowing that all of the emotions around her in the gymnasium had to be making this difficult. Bonnie fidgeted and shifted from foot to foot. Finally, with a nudge from Sam, she stepped closer and wound her hands around the older man's waist, ducking her head under his chin, squeezing him tight before retreating. “Thanks, Dad.” She whispered. Her eyes still didn’t meet his, but it was more than he’d ever dreamed. He couldn’t help the tear that rolled down his red cheeks, and at that point, he didn’t give a damn who saw them. “I didn’t mean to make you sad.” She said, noticing the tears, backing away further. “No, Bunny, I’m not sad.” Bobby said, sniffling and wiping at his eyes as Sam and Dean stepped back to give them a moment. “I’m so happy, you have no idea.” Bobby, opened his arms wide and shrugged, “I’m just an old man proud of his little girl.” He choked on his words but managed a bright grin. Bonnie stepped in and gave him another hug. Calling him Dad may not have been her idea, but she was glad Sam had suggested it. Seeing Bobby happy was more than enough to force her unease aside.

As fate would have it, I adopted a girl and two boys, and they grew up great!

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“Y/N? I don’t think this is Latin,” Sam announced, not looking up from the phrase. Y/N kicked out her leg and tapped Sam’s shin with her toes. He took the book and passed it to her under the table, he snorted in amusement when the book just disappeared as if by an invisible force. “Yeah, it’s Romanian.” She explained, both Sam and Dean looked at each other, whenever she did that it never ceased to surprise the boys. “Where the transformed is, the human is no longer.” She read out, then the book appeared next to Sam’s leg, he quickly took it off her as it waved about. “What’s that meant to mean?” Sam mused, staring through his brother, deep in thought. Dean sighed, his head falling back as his shoulders slumped. Y/N wiggled back against his legs, reminding him not to move. “I can’t find anything here.” He pushed the iPad into the center of the table, and rubbed at his eyes. “Break?” Sam asked, looking at his brother, who just nodded. “Y/N, food?” Sam was braced to push back in his chair, waiting for her response. There was some shuffling and Dean groaned as Y/N pushed off his knee and climbed out from under the table. “What kinda food?” She asked, resting her arms along the table. “Well, we’re out of everything, so what do you feel like?” Sam said, opening it up to offers. “Burger.” Y/N and Dean both said in unison, Y/N adding a final nod. Sam raised an eyebrow at them as they looked at each other, Dean smiling proudly at his girlfriend as she leaned in for a quick kiss. “You two are sickening.” He teased, standing and catching the keys Dean threw at him. “See you in an hour.” Sam called as he disappeared towards the garage. Dean stood and stretched, rolling his head from shoulder to shoulder. “Whatcha gonna do now?” Y/N asked him, pulling him by the belt loop towards her, his hip bumping her abdomen. He leaned down and captured her lips in a passionate kiss, breaking away to move down her jaw. “You.” He murmured against her pulse, licking at his and nipping the skin, placing open mouthed kisses down the side of her neck, holding her jaw between thumb and forefinger, tilting her head so he had better access. Her breathing shuddered as his tongue flicked out, helping him suck a dark mark over her clavicle. Y/N’s eyes opened and landed on the table as Dean’s hands roamed south, over her breasts, down the plane of her stomach, but just as his fingertips found the warmth of her skin, she pushed him aside. “I think…” She moved around Dean and started arranging the printed articles and books in front of her. Dean huffed a sigh and pressed a hard kiss against her temple, rocking her a little. This is why you love her, He reminded himself, her dedication to solving a case, not letting anything get in her way of saving lives.

“Dean?” Her voice echoed off the walls of the hallway. She had the iPad in hand and was hurrying through the corridors, looking for her boyfriend to bounce her idea off. “Dean!” She yelled, stopping to listen for a noise of some sort. Nothing. That could only mean one thing. She burst through the door, making Dean jump from the seat, almost dropping his cellphone. “Whoa! Y/N, you can’t just…” He said, pulling his jeans up his legs, trying to cover his modesty. Y/N shot him really? look and began to scroll back to the beginning on her iPad. “So I found this,” She said, showing him the iPad, taking a seat on the side of the bath. “Pooping is not a two person party, Y/N/N!” Dean was deadly serious, he refused to take the iPad and was staring at her as if he could will her to leave. “Dean,” She started, withdrawing the iPad, “We’ve been dating for two years. We’ve been in the same room while the other pees, we’ve used each other’s toothbrushes, you’ve practically seen my intestines, so what are you finding so weird about this?” She finished, thrusting the iPad back at him, turning away from him, feigning privacy, as he continued to eye her. He rolled his eyes, huffed for good measure and took the iPad off her. “So what am I looking at?”

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