~*~*~*~
"Happy New Year!" I clanked beer bottles with my favorite people, surprise lingering in my heart at how I actually had people in my life that cared about me.
Well, save for one.
Dean was avoiding my eye contact, something he had been doing since the day after Christmas. I wasn't sure if he was regretting what had happened, or if he just wasn't that into me. Either way, I was letting it fly for now. I'd tried talking to him a few times, but he would simply find an excuse and run. We had enough to worry about with the apocalypse looming over our heads, so I was trying not to worry about it too much. Kissing Bobby on the cheek, I watched him blush before pushing me away with a couple incoherent grumbles that made me laugh.
"I'm grabbing another beer and some more snacks. Anyone else need anything?" I called, walking backwards with my glass raised, waiting for any takers.
Sam put his empty bottle down. "Grab me one while you're up." I sent him a wink, pointing my own bottle at him in confirmation before spinning around and walking back to the kitchen.
Rifling through the fridge, I heard footsteps behind me. "Andy?" My lip found its way between my teeth at his voice. While grabbing two bottles of beer and slowly turning around, I met Dean Winchester's gaze with a single raised eyebrow.
"What do you want, Dean?" Placing the top of my bottle on the counter, I hit it just right so that the lid popped off. I did this again with Sam's before placing them on the island and turning to face him.
Slowly, cautiously, he made his way toward me with a strange look in his eye: something almost animal. "I wanted to wish you a happy New Year." Now he was in front of me, my back pressed into the counter. "And apologize."
"For what?" I challenged, knowing a couple things he should apologize for.
He smirked before taking a step toward me and, without warning, pulling me to him. The man kissed me with twice the passion he had on Christmas. I swear, if this was how we celebrate holidays, I was a-okay with it. Gripping the front of his shirt, I kept him close to me, pulling away only for a second to breathe before bringing him back to me.
As we came to a slow stop, he seemed to be trying to make it last before resting his head once more against mine. The ever present sparks warmed my whole body as my toes curled. His arms rested against the counter on either side of my hips, eyes closed as we just breathed each other in.
I could smell the gunpowder on him mixing with his cologne. It was intoxicating to say the least. "That," I swallowed, breath fanning his face as I looked into his eyes, "was neither of the things you said you wanted to do."
"On the contrary," he said with that infuriating smirk painted on his face. "That was me wishing you a happy New Year."
"I'm alright with that."
He chuckled, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose hair behind my ear while his thumb stroked my cheek. Sparks erupted everywhere he touched me and I couldn't control the part of me that just wanted to drag him upstairs and show him exactly how good of a year I could make it for him.
"Now for the apology." Dean frowned, pulling away from me and crossing his arms, eyes no longer meeting mine. Cold flooded me at his departure, but that was nothing compared to the ice water I seemed to have been dunked into at his next comment. "We can't do that again."
"What the hell."
A glare was quick to etch itself across my face. "Listen, Andy. I just don't want something to happen to you. The angels. They're trying to do anything they can to get to me and I don't want you to become collateral damage."
I rolled my eyes. "Dean, I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."
"I know you can. It's just," he sighed, a hand pushing through his hair. The tension between us could have been cut with a knife. "I just don't know if I could stand it if something happened to you because of me."
The counter was cool beneath my hangs, gripping it until my knuckles whitened. It was that or punch the idiot boy in front of me. "Fine." I spit out. "We never did talk about what Christmas meant, and if you were going to have this talk with me you probably shouldn't have kissed me just now, but fine. Whatever you want, Dean. It's not like this meant anything." Grabbing the open beers, I let my shoulder knock into his as I walked past. "They were just two mistakes that won't be happening again."
"Andy," Dean whispered, a heart broken sound that made my fists curl tight around each bottle as I stopped.
Turning back to him, I set my jaw and let out an agitated huff before I could stop myself. "And know this, Dean Winchester," I took a few steps toward him, jamming my finger into his chest. "My parents were murdered right in front of me; my brother's blood was all I could smell for weeks. I have been a hunter since the day I was born." He blinked, green eyes surveying me as I pushed him back a little. "You more than anyone knows that this life isn't something you choose, it's something that chooses you. I knew the risks when I picked up my family legacy. And the day I finally go out, it's going to be because I'm a threat. Not because I have anything to do with you. I'm not some damsel in distress you have to worry about rescuing because when the time comes, I'm going out swinging, and Lord help whomever's in my way."
I didn't give him a chance to respond as I turned and left the room, anger boiling inside me. Why did I even kiss him? I should have just kept to myself on Christmas. It's not like I have a thing for him.
Right?
Handing Sam his beer, I plopped down on the couch with a bitter face, chugging my bottle. "You okay, Short Stack?" He asked curiously, no doubt able to see the vexation rolling off of me.
Swallowing the alcohol, I kept my eyes forward on the television we had just watched the count down on. My shoulders rose in a shrug as I heard Dean walk in. "I'm fine. Just way too sober for this." From my peripheral vision, I could tell Sam was sending his brother a look, but I didn't care. All I cared about was the beer in my hand and just how quickly I could finish it.
The phone rang beside Bobby, causing him to pick it up and pass it to me with a surprised look. "Well, I'll be damned. It's old Link Baxter calling for ya."
Downing the rest of my drink while Dean seemed to choke a little on his, I put the phone to my ear with a dangerous smile. "Hey there, Lincoln." Green eyed bored into my head as I leaned back with ease. "Long time no see."
XxXxX
Smacking my lips in the mirror, I applied my lipstick. "So which dress did you pick?" Sam asked through the phone, making a grin creep onto my face.
"The black one."
"With or without the back?"
"Without."
My sweet friend let out a low wolf whistle. "He's not going to know what hit him." Letting my laugh bubble out, I nodded at my reflection.
"That's the hope. I haven't been on an actual formal date since, well, probably since I was 16." He chuckled on the other end, making me shake my head in agitation as my cheeks tinted pink. "Oh, shut up. I just mean something that isn't meeting at a bar before a one night stand."
"Is that Andy?" Dean's voice slipped like honey through the other end of the line, making my heart race without me giving it permission to do so.
"Yeah. She's getting ready for her date with- what are you watching?"
The excitement from Dean's voice was now nonexistent as if someone had flipped a switch on him. "Dr. Sexy M.D. which dress'd she pick?"
"Wow. When did you start menopause?" Sam's comment elicited a snort from me as I picked up my bottle of perfume. It was still mostly full as the scent was the expensive one I only used on rare occasions: not that I'd had many opportunities to wear it in my line of work. "And she picked the black one. No back."
"Tell Andy to dump him if he doesn't bring her flowers."
"I'm not telling her that."
With a roll of my eyes, I grabbed my heels and started down the stairs. "Did his eyes bug out of his head again?" I asked in reference to the dress options, remembering his annoyance when I'd talked about my options before they left.
Sam chortled. "Yeah, he looks about ready to throw a blanket over you and hide you in a convent."
Laughing heartily in response, I made my way to the kitchen. "Well, I can't say I've ever considered that for my profession, but stranger things have happened." Changing my tone to something more serious, I took a deep breath. "You guys just be careful, alright Jolly? Call me if you need anything. Otherwise, call me tomorrow with an update on the case. Tomorrow evening. I'm hoping to have a late night."
Again, I'd pulled a laugh from my favorite tall person. "Okay, we'll be careful if you promise to use protection."
"Fire arms or condoms?"
"Both."
"Fine." A smile always seemed to be on my face when speaking with Sam. He was easy to talk to. "Call you tomorrow. Happy hunting, Jolly."
"Aim straight, Short Stack." The phone call ended with our usual well wishes. It had started months ago as sarcasm, but now it was just our favorite way to say good bye.
As soon as I'd dropped the phone into my purse, a knock came from the door. Praying it was him and not some unnamed threat I had to deal with before dinner, I slipped my feet into my heels and walked to the door. Behind it, I found a blue eyed man with a dazzling smile.
"Lincoln." I breathed, drinking him in as he stood there with a coat on and flowers in hand: roses to be more precise.
Handing his bounty to me, I moved aside to let him in. "This place is fantastic, Sandy." He said, eyes roaming the foyer before landing solely on me as I closed the door. "And so is that dress. Wow."
"Thanks. You look pretty wow yourself." I told him, referencing the dress clothes he was in. As our third date- we'd already gone to the bar and hung out at the park in the last two weeks since New Years- Lincoln had told me he wanted to go some place a little more high end. It had timed out perfectly considering I had just got back from a case, and my Winchesters had just left for one. "Let me put these in some water and I can grab my coat."
Like the gentleman he is, Lincoln nodded and leaned back against the door as he waited for my return. "So," he started after I'd come back and we'd gotten into his car. "How was the business trip?"
Swallowing, I shrugged. "Same old, same old. Had to teach them how to work the new MRI machine." The lie fell off my tongue with less ease than I usually felt. Lincoln was a very sweet and honest guy. I hated having to lie to him. When we'd dated in high school, I hadn't started hunting full time. My whole life hadn't been centered around it. "But how about you?"
"Oh, software is software. I thought I'd have sold this one already-" as awful as it is, I zoned out. This was pretty normal whenever Lincoln started discussing software value prices, so I didn't even feel bad at this point. Nodding occasionally, it wasn't until he changed topics that my brain woke up. "So where are your roommates?"
A smile flitted across my face at the mention of them. "Off being hardworking idiots."
"I'd love to get to know them better."
"You will!" I reassured him, hand on his arm. "I know you guys are going to get along great. Sam is very sweet and definitely the gentle giant type. Dean, well Dean is Dean. He's more of the strong, silent, murdering type if you know what I mean."
Lincoln laughed a warm bubbling sound that filled the car. "Nope. Can't say I know what that means, but if they're important to you, they're important to me."
"Good Lord, you're sweet." I told him, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "Keep that up and I'm gonna have to handle dessert tonight."
His eyebrows furrowed, eyes on the road as his hands rested on the steering wheel of his Cadillac. "Don't worry," Lincoln assured me, "the restaurant has a great cheesecake."
Laughing heartily, I shook my head. "I'm sure they do, hun. That's just not what I meant."
Lincoln's blue eyed gaze slid over to me, giving me a warmth that spread down to my toes. "Oh! I gotcha now." His cheeks were red as he realized what I meant. However, he put his hand on my thigh, thumb caressing it as he drove. "I think I'd like that much more than cheesecake."
I loved how much I laughed with Lincoln. He felt safe. From a time before I'd become a real monster. "Well, play your cards right and I might just let you have both."
A half smile painted his face, eyes intense. "You sure you don't want to skip to dessert right now? I can turn around."
"Down, boy." I sent him a wink. "You've gotta earn it first."
Lincoln shook his head, hand drifting a little higher up on my leg as I could only imagine what was going through his head. "Andrea Sanders, you are going to be the death of me."
"Don't I know it."
XxXxX
"Cass, I need you to slow down." My heart was racing as I stood in the bathroom, cursing myself for not driving out after the boys as soon as they left. Now I was 900 miles away from them and unable to do a damn thing to help. "So you're saying the Trickster has them and you can't get through? That's why they've been MIA all weekend? How is a trickster more powerful than an angel?" My head was running through possible options and scenarios to run. I just had to get there. Honestly, when Sam hadn't returned my voicemails, I wasn't too worried. If anything, I assumed he'd gotten sick of my worrying over them. Now I realized I was just the worst friend ever who could only think with her lady parts.
Right on cue, a knock came from the other side of the bathroom door. "Sandy? Where's your frying pan? I'm gonna make us breakfast."
"Andrea, who is there?" Cass, as usual, seemed very confused.
Clearing my throat, I called out. "It's under the island." A thank you was responded to me. Awkwardly, I pulled my robe tighter around myself as though it could shield me from my past few hours of stupidity. "Uh, Lincoln stayed the weekend. Listen, I'll get him out of the house. You meet me outside in 15."
"Stayed the weekend? Was his house uninhabitable?"
"Damn it, Cass." I put a hand in my hair, gripping the roots to try and keep myself sane. "No. His house is fine. Just, I'll meet you in 15." The call ended with an irritated sigh. Hands pressed against the ceramic of the sink, I looked in the mirror. "Need a plan. Need a plan." I whispered to myself, staring unblinkingly into my own face. "Okay. You can do this." The air was stale as I breathed in deeply. Gaining enough courage to push away from the sink, I raced down the stairs in my socks while calling out, "Lincoln!"
His adorable head popped out from under the island cabinet, underwear covered butt in the air. "Hey, sweetie. You okay?" Catching my distressed look, he was suddenly on red alert. "What's wrong." It wasn't a question, it was a demand with unsaid promises to fix everything as he stood and made his way to me.
Swallowing, I met his blue eyed gaze, loving his comforting hands gripping my biceps. "It's Bobby." Understanding coated his face. "He just called me. Blast from the past and he's freaking out. Said he could use some emotional support." I bit my cheek, dropping his gaze. "I'm so sorry, but we're gonna have to cut this short."
"Yeah, yeah. Of course." He placed a kiss on my forehead and pulled me in, wrapping his bare arms around me. "Bobby's like a father to you. No worries."
My hand cupped his cheek, bringing his lips down to mine. "You're too good for me." Lincoln chuckled softly, pecking my lips once more.
"Not a chance." All too soon, he was letting go of me and we were heading upstairs to get our things together.
Exactly fifteen minutes later I was waving Lincoln goodbye down the driveway. Behind me, a throat cleared. "Andrea."
Turning with a sigh, I rubbed a hand over my face. "Thank God." I whispered. Finally, we were going to actually be able to do something.
"He did not send me."
I rolled my eyes with a dry laugh. "Yeah. Kinda figured that. Now come on, feathers. We've got some flannel covered knuckleheads to save." Cass nodded, grabbing my arm and flashing us to Kentucky in the blink of an eye. Nausea swirled inside of me, my dinner from the night before threatening to make a reappearance as we stumbled in front of a very familiar black '67 Impala.
Before us stood an abandoned warehouse, looming eerily over our heads. Windows were smashed in, leaving glass to be scattered on the ground and mix with the gravel that crunched beneath our feet. Already, Castiel was explaining what was going on. "I have no idea what's going on." Scratch that. He was hypothesizing.
"Look, if whatever it is- Trickster or not- doesn't want you in there, maybe it's because you have a shot at stopping it." Cass nodded, ice blue eyes piercing as he took in my words. "So you stay out here, I'm going in. If he kicks me out, too- well, tell Bobby I love him and have Dean give the money he owes me to Sam." With a nod, the angel pointed me toward the door. "Here goes nothing."
Holding tight to my stake, I opened the door and walked in.
However, I don't know what I did wrong because I walked right onto a dock, pushing over some lady who seemed to have been doing yoga. "Sorry!" I called, arms reaching out as though I could stop her from falling, which was futile considering she was already crashing into the water.
Around me, Dean's voice covered over her splashing and spluttering as I looked around frantically for where he could be. "Patients should always consult with a physician before using Herpexia."
"Dean?" I called, suddenly terrified as I realized my stake was gone. "Dean!"
"Andy?" I heard him clear his throat before his voice returned to what sounded like a monotone infomercial. "Side effects include: headache, diarrhea, permanent erectile dysfunction," I spun around on the dock, trying to figure out why I felt like I was being watched, "thoughts of suicide and nausea."
"I'm doing all I can," Sam's disembodied voice sighed from somewhere, "to slightly lessen the spread of genital herpes. And that's a good thing."
"Sam!"
"Andy?"
"Damn it, Trickster, if you hurt her-" Dean's threat was cut short as suddenly the world around us changed and the boys were in front of me. "Andrea." He breathed, sweeping me into a tight embrace, warm hands spread on my bare back.
Wait.
Pushing away from Dean, my head shot down to look at myself. Head to toe, I was covered in a black sequined dress. Before me, Dean whistled low and long, green eyes trailing me up and down, catching on the slit that went straight up my thigh. "Dean." I said, voice slow and deliberate, eyeing both he and Sam dressed to the nines. "Are you just going to stand there and gawk?"
He let out a breath, eyes still glued to me in a way that set my skin ablaze. "Yes." The smirk was icing on the cake.
"Well stop it." My cheeks were tinted red. "You look stupid."
"Don't you dare speak to him like that!" Suddenly and without warning, I was ripped back and away from my boys.
"What the hell?"
Another girl, a rather beautiful Asian, covered in a stunning plum colored dress gave me a disgusted look. "This is why I told him you weren't here for the right reasons." She spit the words at me as if they were venom filled water balloons.
Eyes wide and confused, I let my gaze wander. Beautiful stone walls were around us, rich carpet beneath. "You've gotta be kidding me. Is this the freaking Bachelor?"
"Yeah, um, about that." Sam swallowed giving me a weak smile. "So we need to play our parts. We're kind of stuck in the Trickster's TV Land. Play your role, the lines just kind of come out."
"And our parts are, what exactly?"
"He's mine!" The Asian was back, stepping between Dean and I. "Just ask our lovely host." She gestured to Sam, eyes never leaving Dean.
Pushing down the small bout of jealousy rolling around in my stomach, I pursed my lips and breathed out. "Found my role."
"Ah, that's not up to me. That's up to our Bachelor." Sam explained, grabbing the black haired woman and I by the arm and pulling us to stand with a group of 5 other women as finely clothed as we were.
Dean walked up to the podium, picking up a single red rose. I knew this show. As much as I hated to admit it, The Bachelor was my guilty pleasure. Dean would pick women he felt he had the most chemistry with until there was one left who would be sent home. His eyes automatically went to me, and when his mouth opened, I knew it was my name coming out of his mouth.
"Tina."
Well, that hurt. His eyes were still on me, confusion plastering his face. "Oh! Don't scare me like that!" A short haired blonde ran down the steps, heels clacking as she went up to him.
Quick to recover with a shake of his head, Dean held out the rose. "Uh, yeah. Here. Accept this."
"Of course!" She squealed, hands clapping before taking the rose and kissing his cheek. Picking up another rose as Tina walked off to a different room, Dean swallowed. Eyes finding mine once more, he opened his mouth.
"Amelia."
This went on for two more roses, each time looking at me and saying another girls name, bewilderment clouding his features. I about ripped the weave off of one girl that got a little too handsy with her thank you.
Finally, we were down to one last rose. "This is the final rose of the night, ladies. If your name is not called, please say your good byes." Sam stepped back against the wall, having delivered his speech. The Asian chick from earlier sent me a rather smug look, pulling her dress down a little more to show some cleavage.
Dramatic music began playing from somewhere around us. This was it. "An-" I smiled, ready to step off of the raised step. "-naliesse." My jaw set as the annoying women to my right stepped down, squealing excitedly. Dean looked from Sam to me, annoyance evident in his eyes. In a split second, the calmness broke. Fist punching air and leg raising, he held a full blown tantrum. "Really?!" Sam watched his brother, eyebrows raised high. "No. No."
"Dean-" Sam warned.
"Damn it, Sam. If I have to give a damn rose to somebody, it's gonna be Andy!" The words made my toes curl. Annaliesse stopped halfway to him as Dean angrily walked past the woman in plum. Upon reaching me, he huffed and extended the flower to me. "Do you accept this damn thing, Bubbles?"
My lips tilted into a smile as I took the rose from him. "Thought you'd never ask." A strange tugging in my stomach seemed to tell me how my role was supposed to be played. The more drama, the better in Bachelor nation. Leaning forward, I whispered in Dean's ear, "I think my character wants to kiss you."
Dean smirked. "Well, we are expected to play our parts."
"What about Sam?"
Dean held my gaze. "He'll be fine. I'm more worried what your boyfriend will think." His nose scrunched slightly as I rolled my eyes.
"Shut up. Let's get out of this thing." Curling my fingers into his tux, I pulled my favorite idiot down into a kiss. The spark lasted only a moment before we were separated, the room dark. "Dean?" I whispered, straining my eyes for any bit of light.
"I'm gonna need a bigger mouth!" Dean call out from somewhere farther away. Laughter filled the air as I began to search wherever I was, arms outstretched and blindly feeling for anything.
"Hey, Dean." Sam called out, copious amounts of applause sounding out. "You're gonna need a bigger mouth." More disembodied laughter filled the space.
"So, what going on?" Dean asked as the laughter settled.
This was ridiculous. How was I supposed to help these boys if I kept getting separated from them? "Oh, you know," Sam responded, "just the end of the world." More laughter resonated through the area. "So, Dean. Did you do that research we needed?"
Finally, my hand wrapped around a door knob. Yanking it open, I stumbled out into the light, only realizing I was in heels when they clicked against the tile floor. "Oh, Dean." I said, eyes adjusting enough to see him in front of me. "We, uh, have more research to do." Laughter mixing with applause erupted around us once more as I took in my surroundings. Green walls covered what seemed to be an odd kitchen. In the middle of the room was a very large sandwich on top of the table. "You really are going to need a bigger mouth."
"Son of a bitch." Dean said with a smile.
"Andy? Uh," Sam gave a dry cough, seemingly very uncomfortable. "What are you wearing?" The chuckles from the audience were really starting to get on my nerve.
Again, my head shot down. "Who the hell is picking these outfits?" Covering-or rather barely covering- my body was a lacy black undergarment set.
"Looks good to me." Dean praised, eyebrows jumping with a grin on his beautiful dumb face. More laughter sounded and all I wanted was my gun.
Sam, being my favorite person ever, quickly shook off his jacket and crossed the room in a few steps. The jacket was dropped onto my shoulders, resulting in a grateful smile from me and an "awww" from the disembodied voices. "So, uh, how long do we have to do this?" Sam's voice was low, but the laughter still followed.
"Cass is working on getting us out." I told him. "We'll be fine."
Explosions of laughter echoed through the room at my words, setting Dean off. "How is that funny?" Scoffing, he ran a hand through his hair as the imaginary people continued to find our situation overly comedic. "Vultures."
As if the mention of his name had brought him to us, Castiel walked through the open white door, a little bloodied and worse for wear, but definitely alive. Cheers and applause followed his entrance while his trench coat billowed back like a cape. "I don't have much time." Frantic eyes flashed around the room, surveying the surroundings and seemingly waiting for an ambush. "Listen to me. Something is not right." He advanced toward us. Talking energetically with his hands, Cass's gaze landed imploringly on the three of us. "This thing is much more powerful than it should be."
"What do you mean- the Trickster?" With furrowed brows and crossed arms, Dean waited for a response.
"If it is a trickster."
"What do you mean?" The words had barely left Dean's lips before Castiel was launched backward and into the wall. "Cass!"
The door flung open again, resulting in a shorter and floppy haired man to come running through with a laugh. "Hello!" He called out, cheers and applause raining down on him in such a way that I could almost see his ego inflate. "Thank you! You're too kind. Please! Stop!" He continued laughing, straightening his leather jacket with a huge grin painted onto his lips. "Hi, Castiel!" Cass, stood up with duct tape covering his mouth before the newest member of our little sitcom waved his hand and sent our angel who knows where.
"You know him?" Sam asked at the same time Dean asked, "Where'd you send him?" They certainly had differing priorities. I, however, remained quiet as I surveyed my newest potential threat.
The newcomer simply waved the question away. "Relax. He'll live." The pause only served to grow his grin before waggling his eyebrows. "Maybe." His eyes fell on me with a wink. "I see we've added another player to this game: and a rather fine looking one at that."
"Listen," Dean scolded, making his way toward the man with a scowl clouding his face. "I'm done with the monkey dance. We get it."
"Yeah?" The man- it was now safe to assumed he was the Trickster- challenged. "Get what, hot shot?"
The challenging tone set Dean's eyes flashing. "Playing our roles, right? That's your game?"
He sighed, hands raising in emphasis. "That's only half the game." There was a seriousness to his voice that could barely be covered by the snarky tone.
"Then what's the other half?"
"Playing your roles out there." My bottom lip slipped between my teeth at his words, brain running a mile a minute as his gaze fell to me once more. "Wow. I see what ya like about this one, but who called dibs?" His eyes flashed between each brother. "Can I throw my hat in the ring?" After a pause in which no one responded, he simply chuckled. "I want you to play the roles that destiny has cast! You know," he paused, his hands flashing before him as though imagining our names in lights, "Sam starring as Lucifer, Dean playing Michael, and that one playing my future lover."
A snort sounded from me completely by accident, resulting in a wink. "You want us to say 'yes' to those sons of bitches?" Dean countered, anger rolling off of him. "We do that, the world ends."
"And whose fault is that?" The trickster challenged further. "You started this mess, now you've got to finish it."
Dean shook his head, arms crossed. "Which side you working for: Michael or Lucifer?"
"Neither."
"I don't buy that for a second." The green eyed gaze grew more intense as Dean waited for an answer. "You're pulling ankle for one of 'em, so which one is it?"
It wasn't difficult to see that the Trickster's cool was quickly dissolving. "Listen here, you arrogant dick." My eyebrows raised in surprise at the creature's tone. "I don't work for either of those S.O.B.'s. Believe me."
"Hmm," Dean mused, seeming to steal the calm exterior right from his opponent. "No, you're somebody's bitch."
His change in demeanor was instantaneous. The smug smile normally adorning the Trickster's face fell victim to a painting of rage. Nostrils flaring, he reached out and grabbed a hold of Dean until the green eyed hunter was pushed against the wall. "Dean!" I called out as Sam put a hand on my shoulder to stop my attack.
"So Deany Boy has dibs, does he?" The Trickster didn't bother to send even a glance in my direction. Instead, his eyes remained trained on the eldest Winchester. "Don't you ever, ever presume to know what I am." We lapsed into silence as the two continued their staring contest. Fear seemed to stir in Dean's eyes, an emotion I usually did not equate with him. Finally, Dean was released and the Trickster attempted to regain his composure. "Now, listen closely, because here's what's gonna happen." He commanded, eyeing each of us in turn. "You're gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play your damn roles."
"And if we don't?" Sam questioned, eyes wary as if he knew the answer that was coming.
The cold smile sent our way could have dusted the whole room in ice. "Then you'll stay here in TV Land." My chest tightened slightly, fingers curling into fists. This was a fight or flight scenario and I knew it wouldn't turn out well if I acted on instinct. "We've got 300 channels and nothing's on." The smug smile returned as he raised his hand for a single snap.
Obeying his will, the world around us changed in an instant, folding in on itself. Recorded laughter was replaced by the clicking of camera shutters and indistinct radio chatter.
We appeared to be at a crime scene. Caution tape fluttered in the breeze just as the leaves of the tree swayed above our heads. Many people were bustling around, dropping yellow carded numbers on pieces of evidence and photographing all of it. The dead body seemed to be of a white male in his early thirties. It was only then that I realized I was surveying the world through my own lens.
A blue filter appeared to coat the world as I lowered the camera in my hands, eyes quickly finding Sam and Dean as they were approached by an officer. My hearing was easy to heighten as I watched them converse. "What do you think?" He asked them, dark hands in his coat pockets after ducking under the crime scene tape.
"What do I think?" Dean mused, sunglasses covering what I could only assume to be a green eyed glare directed at the cop. "I think go screw yourself, that's what I think."
Sam reached out an apologetic hand toward the man. "Would you give us a sec?" The man shrugged, turning easily and leaving them be. "You gotta calm down."
"Calm down? I am wearing sunglasses at night. You know who does that? No-talent douche bags." I snorted, earning a few odd looks from the coroners beside me. "I hate this game. I hate that we're in a procedural cop show. I hate procedural cop shows. There's like 300 of them on television and they're all the freakin same. They're all 'ooh! A plane crashed here!' Shut up!"
I added 'hates cop shows' to my list of facts about Dean Winchester.
"Hey," Sam interrupted him, finally catching my eye and then skimming past me. "Check out Sweet Tooth over there." My eyes quickly darted to the officer with the sucker in his mouth. "Follow my lead."
Music began playing the second the boys began walking toward the crime scene. As if in slow motion, I watched with a raised eyebrow while they ducked under the tape and shoved their sunglasses onto their faces. Once through, I was the first person they saw, seemingly breaking their mojo for the briefest of moments. Though I couldn't quite tell in the lighting, I thought I saw their cheeks darken.
Sam cleared his throat, causing me to check out my new wardrobe for the third time. "Seriously?" The mostly unbuttoned blue shirt and micro skirt left little to the imagination as I rapidly began to close the top. "I swear I bought the same costume when I was 19 for a Halloween party I went to as a slutty cop. Who does this guy think I am? A hired escort?" With a pointed finger, I snapped to Dean whose mouth was open to respond. "Not a word from you, chuckles."
He raised his hands in surrender, turning instead to the officer with the sucker. "You good?" The man asked Dean, seemingly cautious of the attractive detective Dean was playing.
"Yeah. What we looking at?"
The man slowly pulled the sucker from his mouth, eyes lingering on Dean. "Well," he started, "aside from the ligature marks around his neck, he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat." Both of my boys removed their shades dramatically.
Sam squinted at the body. "Well I say," he looked at sucker man with a deep intensity, "jackpot." He returned the shades dramatically to his face.
My eyebrows raised at the antics while the other cop just humphed in agreement, squatting to look a little closer. "Also, there's a stab wound to his stomach." The officer told them, pointing with his sucker.
Dean, not to be out done by his younger sibling, decide to grace us with his own horrible one line pun as he poked at the victims wound with a stake I hadn't seen him pick up. "Well I say, no guts no glory."
"Get that guy a tums." Sam countered, putting his shades back on, leaving me to wonder when he'd even taken them off again.
"Gutter ball."
I brought a hand to my forehead, rubbing my temples to soothe the headache they were giving me. "One more line like that and this man isn't going to be the only person stabbed tonight."
The officer, however, disagreed. Chuckling, he pointed his sucker at them in acknowledgment. "Good one guys." Before another word could leave the man's mouth, Dean was plunging his observation stake straight into the man.
Yanking it out again, we watched him fall slowly to the ground, choking and spluttering until he died and silence befell the clearing. This silence, however, was quickly disrupted by an obnoxious amount of laughter. "You got the wrong guy!" The trickster stood in an officer uniform, grinning wildly.
"Oh," Dean smirked at him, "did we?" Without warning, our Big Friendly Giant seemed to forget what the word friendly meant because he had just stabbed a large wooden stake straight through the Supernatural creature before us.
The Trickster's face fell to shock as he clutched at his chest where the stake protruded. To his knees and then to his side, he fell with a clunk as the TV Land around us faded away. Blood stained the cement floor as we watched the Trickster for any signs of life.
Relief rushed through me in a flood as I looked down at myself. "Oh, thank God." I breathed out, hugging my jacket. "Real clothes!" My boys laughed, just as thankful that we were done with this crap. "Let's go get a good nights sleep. Lord knows how exhausted you guys must be."
After burgers, showers, and forcing Sam to give me one of his aggressively long T-shirts, I climbed into bed. "So you're sharing with Dean?" Sam asked as I snuggled into the man's mattress.
"Or you could share with Dean and I get this whole thing to myself."
"Logically speaking," Dean started as I closed my eyes, a smirk evident in his voice, "we are the smallest so it would make sense for you and I to share, Bubbles."
Groaning, I pulled the blankets over my head. "Smallest in what? Height, dick, or ego?"
Sam snorted, leaving me to smile as I imagined Dean's blushing face. "Just shut up and scoot over, Sanders."
"Oh, a last name. That means I'm in trouble."
"Something like that." Dean said before being an absolute dick and tickling me. Flailing, gasping, laughing, I couldn't get him to stop until I fell out of bed and landed on my rear.
Panting, I stuck a finger in his direction and glared. "You, sir, are an asshole." The smile that covered his face sent chills up my spine.
"Uh, do I need to separate you two?" Sam asked, turning off the main light and dropping into his own bed.
"No, Andy just had a little mishap." Dean lifted the blankets with a raise of his eyebrows, a silent peace offering I was grudgingly going to take.
Rolling my eyes and climbing in, Dean's arm was quick to wrap around me. I couldn't help but compare it to Lincoln: one was safe and secure, the other protective and electric. Biting my lip, I forced the thoughts out of my head. Dean and I were friends. Nothing more. Nothing less. He'd taken himself out of the running, and that was that. So while I was able to push him out of my thoughts as I drifted to sleep, I had no control over the dreams Dean Winchester ran in and out of.
A few hours later, I woke with a start. Dean's arm was still draped across me in a rather comforting way, but I knew something was off. "Dean." I whispered. "Are you awake?" He grumbled in reply. "Dean!"
"What the hell do you want."
"Something's not right."
That was all it took for him to sit up, arm slipping off of me as he looked around. "Sam?" He called out to which no one replied. "Get dressed." The command was sent to me as he went to grab his own clothes, taking over the bathroom.
With both of us clothed, Dean led the way out of the motel and straight to his Impala, calling Sam's phone in a last ditch effort. We slid into our respective seats, and Dean turned the key in the ignition with ease. Suddenly, Sam's voice appeared. "Dean?"
"I'm getting real tired of voices and no bodies." I spit out, hand running through my hair. "Where are you, Sam?"
"I-I'm not sure." My eyes flicked to the radio as he spoke, watching the lights change with each word.
Eyes meeting, Dean and I understood at the same instant: Sam was the car. "Well," I sighed, leaning against the door. "I always figured there'd be a Winchester inside me, not the other way around."
"Oh, shut up." Dean sent me a glare as his cheeks colored, driving us further down the road. "So, guess we didn't kill the Trickster."
"If he's even a trickster." Green eyes bore into me as I turned my head away from the scenery rushing by. "Well, you guys heard Cass. He told me the same thing before he sent me in. This thing is way too powerful."
"Yeah, and he seemed to know Cass." Sam added, lights dancing as his voice came through the radio. "Not to mention the way he reacted about Michael and Lucifer."
"Son of a bitch." Dean hit the steering wheel, resulting in a wince of pain from Sam. "I know what we're dealing with." The green eyed man pulled Sam off of the road, stopping in front of a random abandoned cabin with a gravel driveway before he jumped out.
"What you got there, Sparky?" I asked, closing the passenger door in order to lean against it.
"You'll see."
I raised my hands up in surrender, letting him do his thing as he began to pour out the contents of a very old ceramic vase in a circle. Making his way back to the trunk, he rifled around a little more to fit it back in.
"Umm, Dean?" There was a quite a bit of discomfort threaded into Sam's voice. "That feels kind of uncomfortable." A hearty laugh fell from me as I sat on the hood and Dean slammed the trunk. "Ow."
"Alright." Dean yelled to the sky. "We give. Uncle! You hear me? Uncle!"
For the briefest moment, I feared we were wrong. But I only had a second of panic before the Trickster appeared. "Finally," he exclaimed, arms wide and a wink sent my way. "Let's get this started."
"Not so fast." Dean stopped him, the Trickster raising an eyebrow. "Nothings happening until Sam has opposable thumbs."
"What's the difference? Satan's gonna be riding his ass either way." When we didn't laugh, he just rolled his eyes. "Fine." His hand rose to snap dramatically.
Immediately, the passenger door opened and out stepped my favorite tall person. "Why'd you do it?" Sam asked with a hand running through his hair.
"Hello? Trickster?"
"Nah," Dean negated, walking toward him. "I'm not so sure. You know, maybe all this time you've really been," a lighter flicked to life in his hand before he threw it down, igniting a circle of holy fire around the victim, "an angel."
The Trickster's eyes widened, before a calm overtook him once more. "Oh, come on. That's ridiculous!"
"Alright," Sam added, leaning next to where I sat on the hood. "Then step out of that holy fire and we'll get this show on the road."
His smile wavered only for a moment before the world around us faded into the warehouse once more. "Well done, boys," I gave him a pointed look, "and Andy, was it? What did I slip up?"
"Nothing." Dean had one of his signature smirks covering his face. "It was the way you talked about Michael and Lucifer. Speaking from experience, only family can get you that angry."
"And the holy oil?"
"Guess you could say we pulled it out of Sam's ass." I nudged the boy beside me, earning only a grimace of discomfort. "Oh, come on. That was funny!"
Dean shook his head, turning away from me and back to the angel before us. "So who are you?"
He hesitated for a moment, eyes flitting between the three of us. "Gabriel. They call me Gabriel."
"The archangel?"
"That's the one. You see the Trickster is my very own witness protection. Few thousand years ago, I got a face transplant and wound up living down here. Couldn't take the fighting anymore." The smile on his face turned pained. "Because what you three call Armageddon, I call just another Sunday dinner."
Sam shook his head, bewilderment covering his face. "Then help us stop this!"
Gabriel laughed, dry and humorless as he stared into Sam's puppy dog eyes. "No can do. See, ever since the big guy turned on the lights down here, we knew it would end with you two. That's the way it has to be. That's destiny. I mean, you can see why you two were chosen, right?" The boys shared a look, making it quite obvious they were utterly confused. But me? I was starting to get some ideas. "Oh, Princess thought of something."
All three eyes turned to me as I swallowed. "Brothers. One older, loyal to an absent father. One younger, rebellious and wanting to go his own way."
"Ding, ding, ding!" Gabriel's eyes lingered on me a moment longer with the same look I always got from Cass: confusion. As though I were a puzzle piece he couldn't get to fit in the picture just right. He looked back to the boys, seemingly as if he'd never looked at me to begin with. "One brother has to kill the other."
Lips pursed, I watched Dean's shoulders tense beneath his jacket. "No. I don't think so."
"I'm sorry." The sympathy felt real as Gabriel kept his eyes glued to Dean. "That's just how it has to be. I wish this really was some TV show, with easy answers and endings tied up in a bow. But it's not. It's real." We lapsed into silence, Sam and I exchanging a look while the others maintained their staring contest. Finally, Gabriel threw out his hands in exasperation. "So what now? We stare at each other for all eternity?"
"No, first you bring Cass back from whatever hole you stashed him in." Dean demanded in a voice that sent shivers down my spine.
Gabriel caught me, a smirk etching in his face. "Careful, Dean. You don't know the impact you have on Princess over there." Even my ears turned red at his words, eyes widening in embarrassment. Sam was staring at me as I wrapped my arms around myself. Dean, however, didn't acknowledge his words, instead he kept his gaze trained on the threat. "Fine."
With a snap of his fingers, Cass was back. Bloodied and bruised, but back. "You okay?" I asked him, to which he only grunted in reply.
"Hi, bro." Gabriel said with a smile. "Miss me?" The two took a moment, eyes locked on each other before Gabriel pointed to me. "You figure her out yet?"
"We know what she is." Dean spit out, earning a confused look from Sam. In all the time we'd spent together, I still had yet to tell him my secret. Not that I would have told Dean if I could have helped it.
Gabriel waved away his response. "No, not that. Cass knows what I mean. The anomaly."
"Cass?" My voice wavered. Abomination or asshole were two 'a-words' others generally associated with me. 'Anomaly' was not. When neither angel responded, I shook my head with a hand running through my hair. "Nevermind. Let's just go."
For the first time since this ordeal, Dean took his eyes off of Gabriel and met my gaze. "Fine," he said after swallowing hard. "Let's go." At his command, we all started to leave.
"Wait, wait wait. You're just gonna leave me here for all eternity?" Gabriel called after us, bitter and disbelieving as he paced the perimeter of his holy fire.
Dean stopped by the door, turning back. "No. We're not. Because unlike you, we aren't grade A douche-nozzles." He took a threatening step forward, rage filling the air around him. "But for the record, this isn't about fate, or destiny, or some other bull crap. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your own family." Smashing the glass box by the door, Dean pulled the fire alarm, leaving only after the sprinkler system had started their job.
Walking to the car, all three of my boys were silent. My head, however, had never seemed louder. What did he mean by 'anomaly'? Where was this coming from? Gabriel's words had struck something in me, giving me a question I had yet to ask myself: exactly what role did I have to play in the upcoming Armageddon?
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8486 words in this chapter.
I don't know if I should apologize, or tell you you're welcome. I thought about cutting it in half, but I really didn't find a place I wanted to chop it. Let me know if it's too long and needs to be split lol. So much work goes into a fanfic. I've been rewatching the episodes in 2 minute increments so that I can figure out how Andy's story mixes in.
Hopefully you guys enjoyed this and are staying safe!
All of my love,
BrieD