#superpowered oc

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE ASK ME QUESTIONS ABOUT HER SHE IS VERY SPECIAL 2 ME </3

powers: can cause strong vibrations able to cause earthquakes, throw opponents off balance, obstruct others’ powers, and interfere with electrical signals. she recently discovered that if she concentrates her vibrations strongly enough around an object she can move it in the air (effectively telekinesis but cooler ok? ok.). she has trouble controlling this aspect of her powers. she can bring down a building without breaking a sweat but struggles to lift a training dummy.

side effects: the main drawback to her powers is that she is constantly shaky. she physically can’t sit perfectly still and struggles with tasks that require dexterity or fine motor skills, like stitching wounds or aiming a gun. she also has chronic soreness, especially in her arms and hands, and has suffered severe migraines when she has pushed her powers to their limits.

appearance: medium length auburn hair, amber eyes, toned curvy build, approx. 5’8” (in my head)

backstory (tw: vague descriptions of medical torture): in the 1980s, after her mother passed away giving birth to her little brother teddy, amber and him found a home in the church they went to when they were young, before everything went sideways.

one day, when amber was 19, she signed onto a medical trial that promised to pay any volunteers a pretty penny for taking part in what was described as a “renewal process.” needing the money for her brother and for her church—which had slowly become run down and in need of some extra funding—amber agreed to the trial and was taken away to a dingy laboratory.

she was not the perfect candidate for whatever medical trial she signed up for. she had piercings, she wasn’t sober, she had a tattoo, she was feisty, she was young. she was not the mature, cooperative clean slate that they were supposedly looking for. but the man who oversaw the whole experiment, the man who would eventually create the tech that would revive amber’s soon-to-be-dead body, he was infatuated with her. he was obsessed with her. his colleagues and assistants discouraged amber as a candidate, unsure of how her “tainted” body would react to the experiments. but the man insisted. said it had to be her.

there, they proceeded to straight up murder her by lethal injection, then started to experiment on her for years. after they initially killed her, amber was caught in a torturous loop of waking up, being gruesomely experimented on and having random shit injected into her, her body rejecting it and them having to extract whatever they put in her, going to sleep for years, then waking up and having to do it all again.

the cycle persisted for decades until finally, in 2017, they brought her back to life by injecting microscopic nano-machinery into her bloodstream. the only problem was the nanobots are powered by movement, so they are in a constant state of vibration, giving amber her powers and a kickass immune system.

after waking up feeling like she was being rattled around like a maraca, and subsequently destroying the entire lab, amber felt she couldn’t return home. after all, she just woke up in the future and immediately destroyed a building by mistake. so she turns to a life of vigilantism, trying to use her powers for good. she takes up the alias ‘tremor’, has a few run-ins with daredevil, survives the snap but quits her vigilantism during the blip, then gets picked up by valentina and joins the thunderbolts, and now we’re here BOOM

Sam told me to sit down on the couch and not move. Of course, I didn’t move. He was shoving a fucking angel blade in my face. He looked so angry, and his anger didn’t simmer when he saw my scared shitless face. It didn’t even simmer when Dean and Castiel came into the room.

“They're a monster, Dean,” Sam told his brother right as he entered the room. Dean didn’t look angry. He just looked disappointed.

The older brother sighed, “Guess I really do have to kill them.”

“No!” Castiel and Crowley yelled out.

I would have protested too, but I was so fucking scared. It’s no fun being on the bad side of the Winchesters. For the first time since this whole thing started, I really just wanted to go home. The only thing that was scary back at home was grades. No one was trying to kill me there.

“What do you mean no?” Sam’s head snapped to Castiel, “This is what we agreed on.”

“You can’t kill them,” Castiel moved so his body was blocking mine, “I won’t let you.”

“Neither will I, by the way,” Crowley stepped up next to Cas, “They’re special. They're not just some low-level demon that I’ll allow you to kill off.”

“So, they’re a demon?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Crowly responded honestly.

Well, that was really reassuring. The fucking King of Hell couldn’t figure out what I was, the Winchester brothers wanted to kill me, and I was freaking out. It was too fucking early for the shit.

“They are not a demon,” Castiel finally decided to say something, “They are not a monster. They are, however, something very powerful-”

“More of a reason to kill them!”

“Do not interrupt me, Dean,” Dean looked taken aback, but stayed quiet, “They may be powerful, but they don’t know how to use this power. They are as harmful as a paper cut. They are also a child. You will not kill someone that is innocent just because they have powers that they weren’t aware of.”

“You’re telling me they didn’t know!” It was Sam this time that yelled.

Castiel stayed calm, “No, they didn’t know. Look how scared they are.”

The angel moved over slightly so the brothers could get a good look at me. I don’t remember when it happened, but tears were now on my face. I was trying to make myself as small as possible as if that would keep me safe, and, again, I had no idea what was going on. They could probably see it in my eyes.

Castiel was now fully back in front of me and I was grateful. Not to sound like a broken record, but I was so fucking scared. I looked over to Crowley and saw he was already looking at me. If I wasn’t hallucinating, it looked like the demon felt bad.

“...so we’re not going to kill them,” Castiel was still talking, “We can take them somewhere else, but we’re not killing them.”

I heard huffs of agreement before Castiel moved from in front of me. I saw Sam and it looked like he felt pretty guilty for almost shanking me. He couldn’t meet my eyes. Dean just stared at me like he was expecting me to do something bad any second.

Crowley didn’t move from his spot in front of me. I didn’t mind, but I think others had something to say about it.

“Why are you still standing there?” Dean asked. His eyes were accusatory.

“The dog is in front of me,” Crowley stated casually.

“What dog? There’s no dog, Crowley.”

“Oh, squirrel,” the demon smirked, “It’s a demon dog,” Dean took a huge step back and almost tripped on his own feet, “You of all people should know that they’re invisible.”

“Why…” Dean's face looked as white as a sheet, “Why is there a demon dog in the bunker?”

“Casey asked.”

Dean’s eyes snapped to me. Really? Did Crowley really have to throw me under the bus like that? Right after they agreed not to kill me? Dean looked too scared to be mad, but he still tried. 

“I was curious,” I mumbled.

“J-just get it out of here!” Dean squeaked.

I frowned. One of those big frowns that looks cartoonish.

“Crowley?” I started.

“Yes, child?”

“Could you please make Steven leave?”

“Steven?” Crowley lifted his eyebrow in amusement.

“Yes, Steven. Steven the demon dog. The right-hand man of the King of Hell himself,” I snorted and then started laughing hysterically. I started laughing so hard that more tears ran down my cheeks. Not because of fear this time, but because I named a fucking real-life demon dog Steven.

“Casey is in shock,” Castiel stated.

“Yeah…” Sam muttered guiltily. 

Crowley took out his whistle after staring at me like I was crazy and blew. I felt fur brush across my ankles before the demon said that the demon dog was gone. 

“Now,” Crowley said, “I think it would be best if I took them.”

Sam and Dean looked like they were about to protest, but Crowley gave them the ‘talk to the hand’.

“From what I saw, you can’t keep them safe. If anything, you two idiots would be the ones to kill them, and I will not let that happen. So,” Crowley wiped nonexistent lint from his suit jacket, “They should come with me.”

“Cas?” the old brother asked the angel.

“For now,” Castiel took a breath, “I agree with Crowley.”

“Great! Now go get your stuff, child.” Crowley waved his hand in the general direction of the bedrooms. The thing is, I’d never been to my room before. Remember? I slept on the fucking couch.

“I, um, don’t know where my room is,” I twiddled my thumbs.

“Right, these pigs made you sleep on the couch,” the King of Hell sneered.

“We didn’t-”

“I found them asleep on the couch. You made them sleep on the couch,” Crowley snapped.

“I will lead you to your room. You can get your clothes,” Castiel offered.

There was no chance in hell that I was gonna get more clothes like the ones I had on. I would rather sever my fingers with a plastic knife before wearing these rags. Seriously, who picked these abominations?

“If clothes are all I need to get from there… I think I’m good,” the angel tilted his head in confusion, “The clothes probably look like shit or they’re flannel. I’m not wearing either of those. I have pride.”

Sam and Dean looked offended, but I didn’t really care.

“Crowley can get me clothes that don’t make me wanna wash my eyes with bleach,” I turned to the demon in question, “Right?”

He sighed, “I can.”

“Great! Then, I’m ready to go!”

“Alright, child. Out the door then.”

“You drove?” I was surprised. I thought he was gonna teleport me out of here or I was gonna find out that he had wings. Plus, I had cars in my own world. Riding in one now is so fucking lame when there’s supernatural shit that can help you travel.

Crowley scoffed, “Of course not.”

Crowley and I were at the top of the stairs when I decided to acknowledge the men - and angel - I was leaving behind. I wasn’t very fond of Sam or Dean right now, but Castiel probably saved my ass today. He saw something in me that made him want to spare me. Something that he didn’t see in whoever occupied this body before.

I turned and smiled, “Thanks, Castiel. Hope to see you soon.”

The last thing I saw before the door closed was Dean and Sam looking like guilty little fuckers. They were enough dumb to think that after voting to kill me that they were gonna get a goodbye. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…I’ll take your silence as a no. 

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

…

…

…

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

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

Wake up!

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

…

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

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

Wake up!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dean…” I started.

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

…look, man, I can’t help it!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, my name is Jenny.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay,” I smiled, “Where’s Sam?”

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

“It’s a long story.”

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

Oh boy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We?” Dean quirked his eyebrow at me.

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

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

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

“I agree with Dean.”

Well fuck.

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

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

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

…wait.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“Not that long,” he shrugged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!” I squealed.

“No!” yelled Sam.

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

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

“How can you tell when they’re here-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t see why not,” I pipped in.

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

“And?” I replied.

“And you're not talking to him!”

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

“You’re a child, Casey! No!” 

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

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

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

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

“Your eyes… they turned red.”