#spnstart

John had gotten a late night call from his friend and hunting partner, Henri. The other hunter seemed worried, and even afraid. This was important, he could tell. Something big was about to happen, so he packed the room up and got the kids in the car as quickly as he could, and sped off to New York. It was a good two day drive, and he made it in one, but it wasn’t enough. He got to the Duval estate, and ordered the kids to stay in the car while he barged in. What he found was a nightmare.

He followed a trail of blood to the living room, where he found Adélaïde, lifeless on the floor. The fire alarm was blaring, and there was smoke coming from upstairs. He called out for Henri, and only a weak reply drew his attention. He followed the voice to behind the couch, where Henri was slowly bleeding out, with his teenage son hovering over him with a knife. Henri weakly informed him that the twins had been taken, and that the boy, Armand, was possessed. It was only then that Armand’s green eyes flashed fully black, and John knew what to do.

John gripped the kid tight, exorcizing him. The demon flew out in a puff of smoke, and the boy fell limp in John’s arms. He came to, only as Henri uttered his final wishes to John to keep the kid safe, but not as Henri requested for John to find the twins. John agreed, and helped the teen out to the Impala, and got him into the back seat. Still, John knew he couldn’t keep this kid. So he did the next best thing. He decided to drop him off with another trusted hunter that could keep him safe.

“Hey uh... sorry to pop in on you unexpected, but... there’s been a little problem, and I need your help,” said John, rubbing his face. If they refused, he’d get stuck with Armand, and he knew it. He was struggling enough to provide for the kids he already had, but he’d do what he had to, he supposed.

[Open to: Johns, if you wanna take over from here, Deans, Sams, other hunters canon or oc

Winters were tough when you were homeless. It had been a year since Armand's mother had kicked him out, and he was back where he started; on the street. His time at Sonny's had been a lucky break. He could've ended up behind bars, and he knew that that was what could happen this time. But Sonny's was great, and he'd even made a friend on the farm. But those days were long gone and he was alone now. There was no going back to Sonny's now that he was in the foster system. He had to keep a low profile or they'd send him back to those awful people! He'd rather die than go back there. They were worse to him than even his parents.

But old habits died hard and Armand was a survivor. Even if it was wrong or dangerous, he knew what helped him cope, and he knew what kept him going. The drugs kept him warm and confident enough to keep from getting caught most of the time. The stealing kept his belly full enough to see another day.

So he did what any other kid failed by the system would do; he scoped out the best dressed people and picked their pockets. He'd successfully taken two wallets already, and now he was aiming big. He targeted a pretty redhead, snatched her purse, and made a run for it. The ice didn't really help in his escape plan, but the teen was determined.

Dean couldn't take it anymore. He'd sat by long enough, hoping that Sam would decide to help himself. He'd couldn't sit by and wait forever, while Sam threw his life away. Something had to be done. He'd remembered that locking him up didn't help, and giving up hadn't helped, and that was just the demon blood. He didn't really know what to do when it came to actual drugs, but at least there were probably articles on what to do. He decided to start with just talking.

"Sammy, come sit with me," he said, patting the couch. "We need to talk."