#piper evans

The soft glow of Harper’s lamp spills out onto the small outcrop of roof Maisie and Harper are perched on. The stars are shining brighter by the minute as dusk settles into the night. Taking a sip of her Triple Black Smirnoff, Maisie rests her head on her big sister’s shoulder.

“You can say them out loud if you want,” Maisie says, knowing her sister is going over all of the constellations in her head. It’s her favorite hobby.

“Well, you ought to know them all by now,” Harper comments, sipping on her own drink.

“That’s the Big Dipper, right?” Maisie points to the obviously smaller dipper, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looks up at her sister. Harper sighs heavily, shaking her head.

“Hilarious.” Harper puts the cool glass to her lips again, savoring her drink and the view. “You know, some of these stars could be dead right now. I love how we can still see their light even after they’re gone.”

Harper turns to Maisie who lifts her head so they’re facing each other. “I’m sorry, Maisie. But you’ll still see me,” Harper says softly.  

“Wh-what are you talking about?” Maisie’s face scrunches up in confusion, not understand the turn this conversation has taken. Harper puts a hand on Maisie’s shoulder, looking at her intensely.

“I’ll still be here with you. Always.”

Harper begins to slip away from Maisie’s focus even as she tries to hold on to her. To ask her what she means. Suddenly, the glow of Harper’s lamp is replaced by the hallway light spilling into Maisie room. The roof is replaced by Maisie’s bed, and Harper is replaced by her father shaking her shoulders to wake her.

“Maisie you’ve got to get up,” Peter says urgently. Maisie wipes her bleary eyes, blinking up at her dad, still confused by her dream. It was one of her favorite memories with Harper, when they had finally moved into the Safehouse and made it feel like home. It definitely hadn’t ended like that.  She didn’t have time to find the answer, though, with her dad trying to get her up.

“What’s going on, dad? Are you okay?” Maisie asks, sitting up and trying to get her bearings.

“We have to leave the city. Vampires have Harper and I’m sure they’ll come for you next,” Peter only half explains, tossing a pair of shoes at Maisie’s feet before grabbing her hand and trying to pull her up from her bed.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Maisie questions, her groggy brain trying to make sense of the situation. She hastily slips the shoes on then follows after Peter who is still tugging on her hand.

“There’s no time to explain we have to hurry if we want to make it out alive,” Peter urges as they hurry down the stairs and out the back door towards Peter’s van. The same one as the VonVamp’s but they didn’t need it now that they were dead so Peter put it to use.

“If some vampires have Harper, we have to go get her back,” Maisie says as Peter opens the passenger side of the van, making sure she gets in before shutting it firmly. He jumps in the driver side, the van already running, and immediately starts to pull out of the dirt driveway.

“Do you know where Harper is? We’re going to find her, right?” Maisie presses, her mind waking up now.

“We can’t go back, we have to stay ahead of them. We should go to your mother, once the other vampires find you’re not here they’ll use Harper to get to her next.” Peter pulls out onto the road and floors it.

“Why do they have Harper!? How did they get to her!? Dad!” Maisie keeps questioning Peter, still trying to make some sense of all this, but Peter shakes his head.

“It doesn’t matter, we just have to focus on getting to Quincy. Where is she, Maisie?” Peter asks urgently. Maisie runs a shaky hand through her hair; Maisie and Harper had always kept Momma Q’s location a secret. Hunters made a lot of enemies, and they couldn’t take any chances. But she had no choice. Her whole family could be in danger.

“She’s in San Francisco.”

Two Hours Earlier

It’s the dead of night, but Las Vegas is still awake, as Harper and Simone traverse the streets. Harper had waited until Maisie was sound asleep in bed before sneaking out to meet with Simone. This is the fifth night of stalking Peter since returning home from Texas. The ambience of the city offsets the silence between the girls. The neon lights of the strip club glare against the dark street, uninteresting people entering the building.

Harper lets out an exasperated sigh, feeling impatient about the lack of evidence since she’s gotten back. Peter always seemed to do the same thing every night. He’d come to ‘Hunk O’Mania’ for a few hours before going back to the Safehouse. It is suspicious, but it isn’t concrete evidence that he’s doing something wrong. And they couldn’t exactly just stroll into the club looking for evidence. Or at least, Harper couldn’t.

“Why don’t you just go in there and see what he’s up to?” Harper asks, glancing over to Simone, who rolls her eyes as if the answer is obvious. “Peter’s the only one that would know you, right?”

She shakes her head slightly. “Most of his old crew know me.”

“How?”

Simone’s expression grows deadly serious, guilt flashing across her features briefly. “Used to be a part of their little group, back when I was a newbie vampire that didn’t know any better. Not my proudest moment.” Harper isn’t surprised by this revelation, but it still makes her feel uneasy. “I’m doing my best to make up for it now.”

Harper nods, unsure of what to say. “We all fuck up sometimes.”

“Mmm,” is all Harper gets as a response. Simone straightens up suddenly, eyes glued to the club. “Movement out back,” she whispers before quietly taking toward the alley.

Harper follows behind, trying to catch a glimpse around Simone. She gently nudges Harper back, as she peers around the corner of the neighboring building, watching the alley. Simone looks back to Harper, mouthing ‘Peter’ before turning back to watch him. The anticipation starts to build in Harper, hoping and praying for this to be something big. After a long minute, Simone motions to follow. They quietly walk down the alley, avoiding discarded trash and litter on the cement.

Harper catches a last second glance of Peter as he enters a small abandoned building behind the club, and she wants nothing more than to keep following. Simone, however, holds her back for a few minutes, quietly watching the building for any further movement.

Finally, they make their way to the door, easing it open quietly and checking to make sure no one is around. The door leads them into what used to be an old storage room; now it’s simply filled with litter and empty wooden boxes. The girls set off, exploring the building to figure out where Peter had gone inside.

A faint creaking noise echoes through the building. They follow it as best they can figure, weaving in between rows of the shelves and boxes. Finally making it through the maze to the back of the building, they find a shelf pushed out of the way to reveal a low doorway in the wall.

Simone peeks in the doorway first, making sure no one is right inside, and she finds an empty hallway leading straight towards a rusty staircase going up.

“You stay put. I’ll go up first and check it out,” Simone commands, holding up a hand to silence Harper’s resistance. Harper rolls her eyes as Simone advances without waiting for Harper to agree. Harper leans against the opposite wall as the shelf, peeking around the corner to watch Simone’s careful progress.

Simone’s upper half disappears up the stairs, where she stalls for a beat. Harper sees Simone’s head pop back down and she quickly motions for Harper to come her way. Harper is down the hallway and right behind Simone in a matter of seconds. She is ready to be rid of Peter.

Simone makes room for Harper to to see what she’s seeing. As soon as Harper’s eyes adjust to the low lighting, her stomach twists in disgust. It looks like a communal feeding spot for vampires. Cages, only tall enough for someone to sit up in, line the room. Locked in the cages like animals are dozens of people. Some of them look as if they are dying as Harper and Simone process the scene they have plunged themselves into, but others are only halfway dead, there’s still hope for them.

At the far end of the room, Peter sits in a lofty armchair with his fangs buried into the wrist of a young man. Simone has to hold Harper back from jumping the gun and charging Peter right then and there; they need a plan. Peter takes his time draining the young man. When he’s finished, one of the hunks from ‘Hunk ‘O’ Mania’ drags the barely breathing body back in to one of the cages.

“Harper, dear, you can come out now. No more hiding. For either of us.” Peter’s voice rings out loud and clear. He licks a stray drop of blood from the pad of his thumb, waiting for Harper to show herself.

“Fuck it.” Harper sets her jaw and before Simone can do anything to stop her, she ascends the remaining steps of the staircase to face Peter. “It’s over, Peter.” Harper stares him down, machete in hand.

Peter smirks, relaxing back into his chair further. “Oh, it’s not over yet. At least, not for me. Can’t say the same for you, though… No one else came along with you? No Maisie, or Sam, or even Dean?”

Simone lets out a heavy sigh, before finally climbing the remaining steps. “She’s not alone.”

Genuine surprise crosses Peter’s feature as he makes eye contact with her. “Simone? It’s been quite some time, hasn’t it?”

“Too long. I’ve been itching to see your head detached from your body. But I’ve had a difficult time finding you these last few years. You finally made a mistake by finding your kid, so here we are. Quite sloppy of you, Peter.” Simone stands beside Harper, tension coursing through her.

“Was it sloppy? Or did it serve a purpose? You were always the smartest of your siblings, Simone, you should know better. I‘ve always had a plan,” Peter replies with a glint in his eyes. He stands abruptly, causing both girls to tighten their grip on their weapons. “As much as I would love to keep chatting, I’ve got a daughter to corrupt and a plan to see through. But don’t worry, I brought some friends to keep you company.”

A few vampires come out of a back room, some dress casually while others are workers from ‘Hunk-O-Mania.’ Another handful of vampires come up the stairs where Harper and Simone had entered, effectively surrounding the girls.

“Take care of these two for me, will you?” Peter says, strolling through his vampires and patting one on the shoulder as he makes his way to the stairs. “I would say work on your stealth next time, Harper, but there won’t be a next time.” He gives them a lazy wave as he descends the steps.

Harper’s hand tightens around her machete, her free hand tightening into a fist. “We’re completely fucked,” Harper grounds out. The group of vampires stay in their positions, fangs bared and ready for the girls to try to make a move. “This was a bad idea.”

“This was your fucking idea!” Simone chides back. She then grabs Harper’s shoulder and nods to the large window on their right. “We have a chance of being slightly less fucked if we don’t stick around.” Only two vampires stand in the way of their exit route.

“That fall is going to suck,” Harper mumbles, eyes scanning the room.

The girls make eye contact for a split second before sprinting toward the window. Simone barrels into the one of the right, shoving him out of the way, while Harper ducks, avoiding being grabbed by the one on the left, only tripping up slightly. Simone covers her head as she dives out the window, landing on the ground with a graceful roll. Harper jumps out after her; one of the vampire’s hands snag her pant leg, causing her to fall awkwardly. She lands on her side with a grunt of pain, scraping her arm on the concrete as she rolls.

Simone pulls Harper to her feet, tugging on her. “C’mon, you’re fine,” she says, pulling Harper down the alley until Harper gains her footing. Her arm burns, as they sprint away with vampires close behind. Somehow they would have to make it back to Harper’s truck without the parade of vampires chasing them, and if the stinging in her arm is any indication, they aren’t off to the best start.

“We can’t go back to your truck. They’ll be on us any second, we have to lose them,” Simone explains, checking their surroundings.

“Exactly, and my truck is closer,” Harper argues, taking a minute to see how bad her arm is; it’s bleeding but nothing that can’t be fixed.

“Yes, because you parked across the fucking street at a gas station! They’ll be waiting for us.” Simone is exasperated. Taking charge again, she dashes across the street, heading back to where she had left her car before meeting up with Harper.

“I’m sorry,” Harper whispers mournfully in the direction of her truck before she sprints after Simone as fast as she can with a limp. They only get one street down when a vamp tackles Harper. She kicks him off and rolls to her feet, slashing her machete at him.

He jumps back and dodges Harper’s advance, only to meet Simone’s blade. One quick whack and Simone is taking off again, not waiting to see the vampire and his head fall to the ground.

“Thanks,” Harper mumbles, limping after Simone again. They run down several more streets, Harper beginning to run out of breath, when Simone finally turns down another alley. Barely lit up by a street lamp, is a small electric blue car. Harper recognizes it as 2002 Toyota Echo.

“You have.. The Blueberry!?” Harper exclaimed, referring to the name of Burton  Guster’s car in the TV show Psych. Simone smirks slightly, acknowledging the comment, but simply telling Harper to get in. They ease out of the alleyway, making sure they don’t have any more oncoming vamps, then Simone shoots down the road towards the Safehouse.

Harper pulls out her phone, calling Sam the first chance she gets. It rings twice before he answers. “Hey, Harp.”

“Hey, so, um… I might have gotten myself into trouble,” Harper says sheepishly, glancing at Simone, who rolls her eyes.

Sam sighs. “Can’t say I’m surprised. What happened?”

“Peter found out, and he’s going after Maisie,” Harper confesses.

“And how did Peter find out?” Sam presses.

“I kind of, sort of, followed him into a shady warehouse where he was waiting to ambush me,” Harper let out a heavy breath, knowing that isn’t going to make Sam any happier.

“We’re two hours out, Dean says we’ll be there in an hour,” Sam states.

“Sam…” Harper wants to apologize for not telling Sam beforehand what she was going into. To be fair, she didn’t know tonight would be the night shit hit the fan with Peter.

“Harper, stop.” Sam doesn’t let her get it out. “At least you’re not dead,” he relents slightly.

“I guess that’s one thing that didn’t go Peter’s way,” Harper admits. She doesn’t want to think about if she hadn’t made it out and couldn’t get to Maisie.

“Dean wants to talk to you,” Sam warns before he’s cut off. Harper sucks in a breath, ready for more beratement by Dean.

“Status on Maisie?” Dean asks tensely, and Harper lets herself breathe slightly. That wasn’t as bad as she was expecting, but she is sure she hasn’t made it through the worst of it.

“I- I don’t know yet. We’re getting close to the Safehouse, but-“ Harper answers tentatively.

“But what?” Dean cuts her off aggressively.

“But Peter had almost an hour head start on us,” she confesses, squeezing her eyes shut against the possibilities of what could be happening to Maisie.

“What the hell were you thinking, Harper!? You just left her alone so you could go galivanting after Peter with your new gal pal when you suspected Peter was up to no good? You should have kept us in the loop!” The levee has broken and Dean isn’t going to let Harper get off easy. Not that she is going easy on herself. Harper is silent, not knowing how to answer. She doesn’t have any good excuses.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean grumbles, handing the phone back to Sam.

“Just… Call me when you get back to the Safehouse, okay?” Sam makes Harper promise before hanging up. Harper looks over to Simone, wondering how much of that she had heard.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just here for revenge, not emotional support,” Simone deadpanned. Sighing to herself, Harper looks out of the window to notice they were closing in on the safehouse. The dirt road seems to stretch on for miles as anxiety courses through her.

As soon as Simone gets close enough to the house, Harper opens the door and jumps out. She runs to the front door, not needing to bother with her key because the door is already ajar. The sound of Neptune and Gandalf barking is muffled by the closed door of the infirmary. She rushes to let them out, Gandalf darting up the stairs towards Maisie’s room as soon as Harper opens the door.

She spots the back door open as well and she runs up the stairs. “Maisie!” She yells desperately, bursting into Maisie’s room and fumbling for the light. Her breath catches in her throat and tears start to well in her eyes. Maisie is nowhere to be seen.

Harper’s heart starts to race as her breathing grows more shallow. “Maisie, she’s— she's gone, fuck,” she sputters, her voice shaking. Her gaze falls to Simone beside her; in a small, desperate voice, she asks, “What do I do?”

Simone’s face softens, putting her hand on Harper’s shoulder. “Take a deep breath, we’ll find her, okay?”

Harper’s eyes sting with unshed tears. Running her fingers through her hair, she looks around the empty house, searching for any kind of clue. Simone sees the panic in her eyes and knows she will have to talk her through this.

“Now that he has Maisie, and he thinks you’re out of the way, is there anyone else he might go after?” Simone asks calmly. Harper wills herself to calm her breathing and think.

“Piper,” she breaths, pulling out her phone and finding Piper’s number with shaky hands. She only gets voicemail but she immediately hangs up and calls again. It rings again and again. Harper holds her breath, afraid she won’t get through and what that will mean. At the last minute, the line picks up.

“Harper, it’s four in the morning, if someone isn’t dying, I’m going to kill you,” Piper croaks out. Harper huffs out a breath of slight relief but her stomach is still in knots.

“Don’t jinx it, Piper. Peter has Maisie. I was right about him, and I wish I could have been wrong this one fucking time,” Harper grits out.

“Shit, Harper. What can I do? I don’t know how I can help, but whatever you need you’ve got me,” Piper reassures, her voice still tired but determined.

“No, it’s okay, I’m going to fix this. I just needed to make sure you’re okay. I’m going to send someone over to make sure it stays that way,” Harper replies, trying to reassure her.

“Cas?” Piper asks about their friend they usually assign as Piper’s guardian angel.

“No, I’m going to have to call someone closer. Someone who probably doesn’t want to hear from me.” Harper clenches her jaw, knowing who she needs to call.

Harper hangs up the phone and searches through her contact for the number she needs to call next. Her thumb hovers over the name; it’s been so long she doesn’t even know if he’ll pick up. But she has to try for Piper’s sake. As the line rings, she takes a deep breath.

“Hello?” The man’s voice is slightly groggy. Harper finds herself at a loss for words momentarily. She hadn’t expected her heart to skip a beat. Old feelings die hard, she guesses. “Harper, is that you?” The voice sounds more stern this time.

“Yeah, Danny, it’s me.” Harper finally replies.

“Are you drunk calling me?” Danny asks. Harper huffs put a short laugh but no one is amused.

“No. I don’t have time to explain but I need a favor. It's really important,” Harper says. Now it’s Danny’s turn to laugh humorlessly.

“Oh, so now you have time to call me, when you need something. It’s been over a year, Harper,” Danny returns harshly. Harper sighs, she knows it sucks but she couldn’t think of anyone else she’d trust with Piper.

“I know, Danny, I know you don’t owe me anything but i wouldn’t call if I had another choice. It’s life or death,” Harper is pleading now.

“What? None of your other backups picked up?” Danny scoffs. Even though he has every right to be angry with her, Harper is almost starting to get impatient. What doesn’t he understand about life or death?

“Actually, you were the first person I thought of. Please, Danny, I’m calling because I trust you with this. I’ll make it up to you when I get back and everyone’s safe. I’ll make up for everything.” Danny is silent for a moment, hearing the desperation in Harper’s voice breaks through his anger. He could’ve sworn she was holding back tears.

“What do you need?” Danny concedes. Harper’s eyes squeeze shut in relief.

“My friend Piper Evans. I need you to keep her safe. I’ll text you the address,” Harper explains.

“Okay.” Harper almost hangs up, but she gets the urge to say one last thing.

“Thank you, Danny. And I- I am sorry,” Harper doesn’t know how to convey everything she means with the simple statement, but it’ll have to do.

“Yeah, well, just make it back in one piece so you can make it up to me.” Harper manages a small smile; she can almost hear the old Danny, the one she knew before everything got so complicated. He hangs up before she can promise anything.

Simone raises an eyebrow. “Well, he gave you a hard time, didn’t he?” Harper lets out a sigh, but doesn’t respond.

“Now, is there anyone else Peter might go after?”

Harper stays silent for another beat, letting her thoughts ramble off anyone important in their lives until there’s only one possibility left. “Momma Q, but she’s in Cali…”

“Momma Q? As in your foster mom? She’s  is still alive!?”

“One of them, yeah?”

Harper waits as the line rings. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Who is this?” Claire’s suspicious voice is surprisingly stern.

“It’s Harper, you have to come watch our dogs for us so I can go meet my stupid cow-people family.” Harper dives right in, wasting no time on pleasantries.

“Um, hello to you too, and I don’t have to do anything,” Claire replies, her suspicion turned to annoyance.

“Yes you do, we saved your life, you owe us,” Harper challenges. Claire huffs and Harper can practically hear Claire rolling her eyes.

“Harper forgot to add a ‘please’ in there, babe. You don’t owe us anything, Harper owes you a leather jacket,” Maisie walks into Harper’s room just in time to jump in and save the day.

“Oh, hi Maisie! Well, I uh- I guess I can spare a couple days, I don’t have any hunts on my radar.” It’s Harper’s turn to roll her eyes, hard. As soon as Maisie asks, Claire is nothing but sweet and helpful.

“Oh, you’re the best! Hey, how’re those new pickup lines I showed you working out?” Maisie asks, wiggling her eyebrows to Harper’s annoyance. Claire lets out an embarrassed giggle, but before she can answer, Harper takes back the conversation.

“Okay, I think we’re good here, we’ll see you tomorrow at six. Bye.” Harper hangs up the phone and tosses it at Maisie who easily blocks it. “Do your lesbian pep-talking on your own minutes. And my leather jackets aren’t for charity cases.”

“You love lesbian pep talks, you’re just grumpy because I’m making you drive to Texas. You haven’t even met your family yet, Harper, at least give them a chance before you call them ‘dumb cow-people,’” Maisie scolds Harper with her disapproving mom look.

“But I don’t want to meet them,” Harper complains, trying to reach for her phone without getting off her bed. Maisie sticks out her foot and gives Harper’s phone a soft kick, sending it under Harper’s bed and out of her reach. Harper sits up, glaring at Maisie; to which Maisie replies with an innocent shrug.

“Look, Harp, we don’t always want family, but they’re what we got. We need them. And the more the merrier! Just think of the nine-nine-“ Harper groans loudly as soon as Maisie tries to start on another Brooklyn Nine-Nine rant.

“Hey, you love that show as much as I do, don’t give me that.” Maisie crosses her arms.

“But I don’t introduce it into my day-to-day conversation every chance I get!” Harper shoots back.

“Whatever.” Maisie disappears from the room, and Harper wonders if that actually pissed her sister off. But moments later, Maisie reappears with a large shoe-box in hand. “You’re wearing these tomorrow,” Maisie states, dropping the box on Harper’s bed and leaving Harper to find out what they are.

Slowly opening the box, almost in fear, Harper sucks in a sharp breath when she sees what’s inside. Harper throws the box from the bed immediately.

“I am NOT wearing cowboy boots, Maisie!” The only reply Harper gets is Maisie’s laughter floating down the hall.

After Claire arrives at the Safehouse, it takes them an hour of Harper stalling before the group finally leaves. Claire spends her time exploring the house and the surrounding woods. She admires Maisie’s gorgeous classic mustang, which does no favors for her crush on Maisie.

The next three days pass slow and uneventful, with only Gandalf and Neptune to keep her company. She loved them, of course; they were the only boys Claire would ever like. However, when it came to human interaction, Claire let the characters of Brooklyn Nine-Nine keep her company. It was Maisie’s favorite show, after all.

On her last day, she decided she didn’t want to wait for Harper to be picky about which leather jacket she kept. Harper was the one who cut up one of her favorite jackets, so this was only fair. Taking the plunge into Harper’s room, Claire is cautious, half suspecting Harper to have booby traps.

She looks around at all the posters and stacks of books; she actually admires Harper’s taste. When she gets to her closet, she’s dumbfounded by the amount of black Harper owns.

“She’s worse than me and I’m practically the goth poster child,” Claire mumbles to herself in bemusement.

She takes her time, going through all the leather jackets and trying them on. Finally, pushed to the back of the closet, Claire pulls out the last one. As soon as she puts it on she never wants to take it off.

It fits her to a T, like a home she could take with her. She can tell it is a lot older than most of them, but to Claire, it looks like it has history. She feels invincible. Just how a leather jacket should feel.   

Later that night, everyone returns to the Safehouse and finds Claire asleep on the couch in Harper’s old leather jacket. Gandalf is curled up by her feet, and Neptune is on the floor in front of the couch, where Claire’s hand hangs off the edge and rests on his head.

The group all gathers around to see the rare sight of a peaceful Claire. She even has a slight smile pulling on the corner of her lips. Maisie pulls out her phone and snaps a picture before the moment passes.

“Awe, she’s so cute, she looks like she belongs,” Maisie sighs softly.

“Send me that picture,” Dean says quietly over Maisie’s shoulder.

“That’s my fucking jacket.” Harper purses her lips, not affected by the scene like everyone else. Harper moves to wake Claire, and everyone simultaneously whisper-yells at her to stop.

But it’s too late. Claire starts to stir. Her eyes shoot open and she almost falls off of the couch and onto Neptune.

“Shit. Creepy much? How long have you all been there watching me sleep?” Claire sputters groggily. Everyone mutters a lame excuse or apology, making Claire roll her eyes.

“Well, shows over.” Claire yawns and tries to ignore them, reaching down to scratch behind Neptune’s ears; he practically smiles at her. Everyone disperses to the kitchen or bathroom after the long drive, except Maisie who is still taking pictures and Harper who watches Claire with her dog.

 “Nice jacket,” Harper comments, crossing her arms and trying to sound nonchalant. Seeing someone wear that jacket again brought up feelings Harper forgot she had.

“Um, yeah, I like it… it took me years to find it because you have so many. Seriously, your closet makes you look like a biker gang serial killer.” Claire tries to be snarky, but they could tell she was hoping Harper isn’t angry.

“Yeah, well you’re just my type, girl gang,” Harper sasses back with eyebrow raised, daring her to try again. Claire laughs nervously and puts her hands up in defeat. Harper looks Claire up and down, appraising her.

“That was the first leather jacket I ever got. My mom gave it to me before she died,” Harper admits.

“Harper wore it day and night for weeks. Couldn’t get her to take if off, no matter what our moms tried.” Maisie smiles fondly, remembering their late mother Laelynn, and all the little things she did just to make them happy. Despite all the hard times life had thrown at them, she made them happy a lot of the time.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Here, I’ll give it back-“ Claire rambles, starting to take it off, but Harper stops her.

“No, it’s okay. It looks good on you.”

Maisie and Claire both blink at Harper in surprise.  “A-are you sure?” Claire asks, carefully pulling the jacket back onto her shoulders.

The first rays of the warm, setting sun filter through Maisie’s eyelashes as her eyes flutter free of sleep. She runs her hands over the tan leather seats beneath her, recognizing they belong to Dean’s Impala. Suddenly, Maisie realizes she is laying with her head in someone's lap, as they start to run their fingers through her hair. She knows that touch.

Maisie can barely hear the quiet gravel of Dean’s voice humming along to Led Zeppelin, above Baby’s low rumble, as she lets herself revel in the feeling of being so close to him again. She has had this daydream a hundred times; it's her favorite one.

Looking up at Dean, she takes her time studying the character in his every feature. The unyielding line of his jaw, only interrupted by the cleft in his chin, that she loves. She even tries counting the freckles splayed on his cheeks and nose, but just like always, she comes away happy with the fact that they are innumerable.

Eventually feeling Maisie’s gaze on him, he slides his forest eyes down to connect with hers, giving her a soft grin that brings out the crinkles by his eyes.

“Good morning, sunflower,” Dean purrs. A mix of emotions play on Maisie’s face at the term of the endearment, but she can't stop the smile that wins out in the end. Sitting up, Maisie swings her legs up and around to be able to straddle Dean’s lap.

“Well, someone woke up on the right side of seat,” Dean laughs, and she can feel the rumble in his chest. Running a hand through his short cropped hair, Maisie tugs just enough to tilt his head up. He keeps his eyes on the road, but she she can't keep her eyes or hands off of him.

Maisie eliminates the space between them and unites her lips with Dean’s in one fluid movement. Dean lets out a low growl at the sudden sensation, but reciprocates instantly. God, this one feels so real. Every part of her being is ignited.

Dean manages to pull himself away long enough to get out a fragmented sentence in between Maisie's continued pecks. “Maisie. Driving.”

“Mmm, just pull over.” Maisie bites her lip with a grin. Dean has to take a deep breath to pull himself together before giving her a tortured look.

“As much as I would love that, I'm scared Harper would kill me if we’re late for her baby shower.” Maisie suddenly sits up straight, her grin faltering and her brows furrowing.

“What are you talking about? Why would Harper be having a baby shower?” Maisie asks, confusion lacing her tone.

“Probably because she’s six months pregnant..?” Dean replies, giving Maisie a confused look. Maisie starts shaking her head, sliding off of Dean’s lap. “What’s wrong, babe?” Dean adds to her continued strange reaction.

“I just… I don’t understand,” Maisie murmurs.

“Well, I’m not a baby shower expert, so you’ll have to ask Harper. We’re almost there.” Maisie nods half-heartedly, though her sense of confusion doesn’t fade. In all of the times she’s dreamed about Dean, it’s definitely never gone like this. It’s also never felt this real before, either. Something feels off about this, but Maisie doesn’t have time to contemplate it as Dean pulls the Impala parallel to curb of a typical suburban house.

The house is a simple one-story with a perfectly manicured front lawn. A few cars are parked in the driveway and on the street near it. While Maisie is too busy staring at the house, Dean jumps out and holds her door open, waiting for her to step out into suburbia.

“Maisie?” Dean calls softly, concerned. “I know it’s been awhile since you’ve seen your sister, but c’mon, it’ll be fine.” He holds his hand out to her, which Maisie takes hesitantly. Maisie trails behind Dean as they make their way up the stone path to the bright, yellow door. Almost as soon as Dean knocks, the door breezes open, a widely smiling and definitely pregnant Harper greeting them.

“What the fuck!?” Maisie can’t help but exclaim, loud enough for a couple of suburban moms, probably named Sharon and Janet, to turn their heads and look on disapprovingly.

“Well, hi to you too, sis,” Harper manages a somewhat strained laugh as Dean shakes his head with a sigh. Maisie tries to recover her composer with an apologetic smile, but she can’t seem to form a coherent sentence. It’s all too much, Harper with a too-big-for-her-face smile, standing next a door painted a color Harper wouldn’t be caught dead near; all the while wearing a daisy print sundress, in the suburbs. Maisie isn’t so sure this is a dream anymore, but if it isn’t, then what the hell is happening!?

Harper tries to pull Maisie in for a hug, but she even smells different. Suddenly, Maisie can’t breath properly; no matter how hard she tries to take a deep breath, she can barely manage a short one. Harper notices that Maisie is shaking, and pulls back to see Maisie’s wide eyes dart from one spot to the next, but never focusing.

“Mais? Maisie, look at me. You have to breathe,” Harper tries to plead. When Maisie doesn’t respond, Harper turns her concerned eyes on Dean, and he nods.

“Just give us a sec, Harp,” Dean says quietly, and Harper steps out of the way. Taking a hold of Maisie’s shaking hands, he pulls her close and wraps his arms around her, lightly resting her head on his chest.

“I fell in love with a beautiful girl and she still takes my breath away,” Dean quietly starts to sing one of Maisie’s favorite songs in her ear. Her wildly beating heart and quickened breathing make it hard to focus on his words. But the moment he sings the first words of the chorus, she sucks in a deep breath, wanting to make sure she hears those words again.

“I love you. More than you think I do.” Dean continues to sing the words to her softly, and as he says the words again, and again, Maisie can’t help but melt into him. Slowly but surely her breathing regulates, and she breathes in Dean and his words. She looks at him with watery eyes, wondering why it can’t be like this when she wakes up.

“Thank you,” Maisie murmurs.

“Works every time,” Dean replies simply, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “You good?” He adds. When Maisie nods, he pulls back, but keeps one of her hands in his as they finally manage to enter the house. Harper rushes forward, hesitating for a second, before Maisie pulls her in for a more successful hug.

“Maisie, I’m begging you to go see that therapist I found. I just want you to be okay,” Harper says lowly, looking Maisie in the eye for a long minute. Maisie tries to keep her face neutral as she looks Harper up and down.

“Um yeah, is that how, you got so, uh…” Maisie trails off, splaying her arms to gesture to their surroundings, not sure how to describe it.

“Happy?” Harper finishes for her with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Maisie laughs.

At that moment, Sam appears next to Harper, wearing a smile as soon as he is in her presence. He places his hand on the small of her back, and plants a kiss on the top of her head.

“How’s my lovely wife feeling? Need anything?” Sam asks, and Maisie glances between the couple, bewildered.

Harper smiles up at him. “No, I’m good,” she replies, placing a hand over her stomach. “We’re good.”

“Get a room, you two,” Dean says, jokingly, and releases Maisie’s hand to hug his brother. Dean slips his hand back into Maisie’s immediately after the embrace.

“I think that’s what got us here in the first place.” Sam smirks, earning a swift smack on the shoulder from Harper. Dean lets out a laugh, and Maisie manages a smile, despite her confusion at the entire situation.

“Anyway,” Harper drags out the word. “How are you two doing? Your, uh, ‘cases’ going well?” She asks the second question with a tight-lipped smile.

“The cases are fine, and we are doing great,” Dean responds, squeezing Maisie’s hand.

“Great, as in there might an engagement ring in the near future?” Harper beams, but Maisie freezes at the words.

Dean laughs nervously. “I guess we’ll see. But what about your cases, Sammy? The other lawyers treating you well?”

The conversation continues, but Maisie’s mind is reeling. What the fuck is going on? Harper is happy, pregnant, and married to Sam. Dean is talking about getting engaged. Sam is a lawyer. It’s as if she woke up in another universe. Everything seems too... perfect.

“When’s the last time you went on a hunt?” Maisie asks suddenly, interrupting the flow of discussion.

Harper scrunches her eyebrows at her sister. “Not since Sam and I got together in college, Mais.”

Sam gives Dean a questioning glance, silently asking him why Maisie was bringing this up now, but Dean shrugs, just as mystified.

Ignoring the looks, Maisie glances around the living room, noting the suburban moms and the baby shower decorations. A thought hits her, and she starts examining the faces around her. Where’s Piper? And what about Gandalf and Neptune?

“Is Red not coming?” Maisie asks, out-of-the-blue, again.

Harper exchanges a glance with Sam. “Who’s Red?”

“Uh, Piper?” Concern and confusion starts coursing through Maisie.

“I don’t know a Piper, sis. Are you sure you’re okay?” Harper asks, feeling puzzled by her seemingly random questions. Maisie turns to Dean now, the same question prevalent in her eyes, but he shakes his head, giving her no solace.

“Where’s Neptune?” Maisie tries.

“The planet?  Last time I checked it was still in space,” Harper laughs half-heartedly. Even though Maisie is slightly glad this version of Harper hasn't lost her sense of humor, it isn't the answer Maisie wants.

This is the last straw, Maisie needs answers on what the hell is going on, and she isn't finding them here in the suburbs.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Maisie takes one last look at her sister's confused, yet glowing face, before she breezes past them all and out of the front door. Once outside, she looks up and down the street, contemplating how she is going to get where she needs to go. Chewing on her bottom lip, Maisie takes a step forward as her eyes land on the Impala.  

“You're gonna need these,” Dean’s voice suddenly comes behind her, and she whirls around to see him holding up his keys. “I mean, I know you could hotwire her, but you know you'd be dead,” he adds with half a smirk, but Maisie can tell by the way his eyes are boring into hers that he's more concerned than amused.

“Dean, I can't explain it, but something's going on…” Maisie tries find a way to explain herself, but Dean doesn't let her finish.

“I get it, Maisie. I know you'd rather keep everything inside than tell me what's going on with you. I thought maybe we'd gotten past this...” Dean shakes his head, momentarily lost for what he should say.

Maisie doesn't understand where this is coming from. Her problem has always been oversharing; Harper is the one who won't open up. Harper is the one that Maisie still begs to see a therapist. But she just adds that to the list of things that don't make any sense today. Finally, Dean seems to have made up his mind on what he wants to say.

“But I'll be here when you're ready to come home.” Maisie doesn't know what to say so she turns to action and steps into his arms. As she pulls back, she plants a soft kiss on his lips before retrieving the keys from him and turning back to the Impala.

Pulling the door open, she hesitates, looking to Dean one last time. “Dean, do we… where's our dog?” She asks tentatively. Dean sighs like he's answered this a hundred times.

“You know how I feel about dogs in Baby. Maybe when we retire I'll get you your husky, but I'm not that whipped yet,” he winks at her. She manages a small smile for his sake, then slides into the Impala. Her need to find answers, that can hopefully make some kind of sense of the last few hours, drives her on, even as she watches Dean and her sister’s perfect life disappear in the rear-view mirror.

After finding out she was in one of the suburbs outside of Dallas, Texas, Maisie sets her course for Piper’s hometown: New Orleans. It was where she and Harper had first met Piper when they saved her from a local witch, or more specifically, Piper’s mother.

They had barely escaped with their lives, and Piper’s mother had disappeared. But all that matters is Piper was spared, and they gained a new sister. Harper and Maisie even tried to convince Piper to change her last name to Raven.

Maisie is startled from her wandering thoughts by her ringtone sounding off. She glances down at her phone on the seat beside her, the breath catching in her throat at the name and matching photo that pops up.

                             Mom

It can't be. Laelynn had been dead for over five years. Maisie continues to stare down at the picture in disbelief, momentarily forgetting her surroundings until she almost swerves off the road. She regains control only to pull to the side of the road before she finally picks up her phone and answers.

“Maisie?” A light voice calls through the receiver. All of the sudden, Maisie feels like a little girl again, only needing to hear her mom’s voice.

“Baby girl, what’s going on?” Laelynn speaks again, breaking through Maisie’s shocked silence.

“Mom?” Maisie manages to whispers as she chokes back tears.

“Yes, honey. I was only fashionably late to Harper’s, but you had already gone. They said you were behaving strangely, everybody’s worried.” Maisie is so lost in hearing her dead foster-mother’s voice, that she doesn’t know what to say when Laelynn is finished.

“Um, I’m sorry I missed you,” Maisie says, her voice wavering.

“Don’t worry about that, I see you plenty.” Maisie squeezes her eyes shut at this, wishing it was true. “I just want to know if you’re okay?” Laelynn finishes.

“I- I’ll be okay, mom. I just need to figure some things out,” Maisie replies.

“Okay, you just call me the minute you need anything.” Laelynn urges. Maisie takes a deep breath, a tortured smile spread on her lips.

“I will, Mom. It’s good to hear your voice,” Maisie concedes.

“You, too, Maisie.”

A thought suddenly pops into Maisie’s head. “Mom, have you visited Momma Q lately?” Maisie asks.

Laelynn sighs quietly. “Not for a few months, honey. It’s too much, seeing her name on that grave every time.”

Maisie sucks in a long breath, shaking her head. It is like an alternate universe where Laelynn and Quincy have switched places.

“O- of course, I’m sorry. I, uh, have to go, Mom. I love you,” Maisie breathes out earnestly, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

“I love you, too, honey. Talk to you soon.”

Maisie hangs up her phone, letting it slip out of her fingers as a sob shakes her. She rests her head on the steering wheel, the tears finally cascading down her face. This can't be real. In the midst of her confusion and heartache, something abruptly clicks into place.

An alternate universe.

Harper and Sam being together since college… Maisie had always wished for that, Harper leaving the life and being happy. The final piece clicks into place.

The Djinn!

The crunch of leaves sound underfoot as Maisie weaves her way along the cemetery path. She searches for the plot that was listed on the newspaper article she found in the local New Orleans library. Her heartbeat thuds louder in her chest with every heavy step. She has to see it for herself to believe it's real. Biting her lip nervously, Maisie pushes forward, reading headstones waiting for a familiar name it pop out at her. It should be around here somewhere.

There. The name stands out as everything else seems to fade away. Her heart stops.

Piper Adelia Evans

      1987-2008

Maisie stares at the numbers, the only thing to distinguish Piper from every other mottled, grey headstone along the row. That year, 2008, should have been the year Harper and Maisie found and saved Piper. But in this strange, dream world, where everything is supposed to be changed for the better, it is the year Piper died.

She now realizes her subconscious has been considering staying, not fighting for the real world, and living her dream life where everyone is happy for a change. Until now. She has to figure out a way to wake herself up.

Holding her phone to her ear in one hand, and gripping the Impala’s steering wheel with the other, Maisie floors the gas pedal; she knows what she has to do.

“Hello? Maisie?” Dean’s voice makes Maisie’s heart flutter, her grip softening slightly.

“Dean, I love you. And I’m sorry for this. Give my mom a hug for me and tell Harper I’m glad she’s happy,” Maisie quavers. She knows this isn’t reality, but it still tears at her heart to say goodbye like this.

“Maisie, what the hell are you talking about!? You’re scaring me, sunflower,” Dean pleads.

“It’s okay, I’m coming home.” Maisie hangs up the phone before her resolve can waver. “I’m sorry, Baby, but at least you’re not my Sweetheart,” she murmurs before turning the wheel as hard as she can, her foot heavy on the gas; then, all control slips from her grasp as the world spins out of focus.

Maisie heavily blinks her eyes open, this time only shadows greeting her. She struggles to find purchase on the stone floor as she hangs from her bound hands, a long chain and hook securing her position above the ground. Her senses slowly become sharper, the longer she is awake; the worn-down warehouse takes shape around her. No djinn in sight, Maisie tries to think away out of this situation. Glancing at the chain and hook, an idea strikes her.

It takes her a few tries before she manages to grab the chain with her hands, and a few more tries to successfully pull her bound hands free of the hook. But she eventually manages the feat. Maisie hits the cold, harsh floor with a thud and a groan of pain. God, that hurt. Her already weak body feels even more drained after somehow pulling herself from the hook.

She lays there for a second, her eyes shut tightly, as she recuperates from the fall. She gathers enough strength to start crawling through the discarded boxes and broken glass littering the ground, making it to a doorway where she attempts to pull herself to a somewhat upright position.

“Where do you think you’re going?” A voice growls behind Maisie, making her freeze.

In a panic, she searches for anything she can use as a weapon, the djinn drawing dangerously closer. Her fingers finally close around a metal pipe, swinging it up and around with whatever strength she has left, as the djinn reaches her. But her effort is futile; the djinn easily batting the pipe away, then grabbing for her throat.

She kicks and squirms, struggling for breath and her life. Her vision begins to narrow, and she can feel her fight leaving her. Suddenly, she’s back on the floor, gulping in air, the djinn’s body crumpling beside her. Arms are now cradling her, and she looks up to see Dean’s worried face staring down at her.

“Hey, hey, deep breathes. You’re okay now, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pushing her disheveled hair out of her face. Surprised by the tenderness in his voice, Maisie finds herself reaching up and caressing his cheek. This is real, this is home, she thinks.