I'm totally obsessed with the idea of wee!chesters as you can probably tell.
But yeah this one goes a bit deeper.
And deals with transgender issues so if that's not cool with you go away.
So yeah, let's get this show on the road.
Same Song and Dance
Everyone—well—every hunter had their desperate sob story when it came to making deals with crossroad demons. Some people were simply poor saps who thought they'd finally been cut a break. If only that were the case. Anyway, back to desperate sob stories. I had my own.
My real father, according to my mother, was up and out of town before she knew she was pregnant, and he simply never returned, so he didn't even know I existed. Honestly, I preferred that to what the parent who was around. She wasn't violent, not with her actions obviously, but with her words.
I grew up feeling different. Not different in the sense that, you know, everyone liked NSYNC and Backstreet Boys and I was sat at home head banging to Limp Bizkit. That'd make any stupid kid feel like a special snowflake, even if they really weren't. No, what made me feel strange was that my head didn't seem to be wired to my body. As if, when I was up in my mom's hatch, someone (or…something…some…band of cells or whatever…never went to high school and learned proper biology), didn't get the memo that boys were meant to be born with, uh, well, what boys are generally born with and stuck me in a proper girl body.
First time I told her how I felt, she locked me away in my room for two weeks, shouting about how I'd been possessed by Lucifer, himself (oh man, the situation I'm in now makes that fucking HILARIOUS in a morbid and terrifying way), and needed to be purged of my evil before I was let back out into the world. Now, being five years old, I was traumatized. Literally scared straight. Well, not actually, but when I was allowed back out of that room (A WEEK LATER. BECAUSE APPARENTLY IT TAKES A WHOLE WEEK TO PURGE LUCIFER FROM YOUR SOUL), I never spoke of it again to her or to anyone.
So when I was fifteen and attacked by a demon that called me Mason, a name I'd fashioned for myself strictly in my head, told no one about, I was pretty freaked out. She broke in at around midnight (classy, I know) and lord, she made quite the entrance. Slashed my dad's neck as she blasted the front door in, and after that, she slashed my mom's as well. By that time I'd tried to kill myself on four separate occasions, all of them having to do with my absolute crap living situation. Mom hated everything about me, and tried to shove it all out through the power of "God's love and will." And Dad turned a complete blind eye to the whole thing.
Gave the demon a shock, though, simply walking down the stairs and staring at the bloody mess before me as if I'd seen it a million times before even though I knew I hadn't. It should've bothered me that the mess didn't, well, bother me, but I couldn't find it in me to care at the time. Just sighed in relief that I was free of those two bumbling idiots and turned up towards the black eyed girl responsible.
"Gonna kill me too then?" I asked her, voice trembling ever so slightly. I gulped it down, though, determined not to show this thing any indication of fear for it. Had no idea what it was that made me act so calm, so…natural about this completely unnatural event occurring in my home. It was like there was something in my blood, something I couldn't quite put my finger on that told me I was made to deal with this kind of stuff. This…supernatural stuff. Back then I thought I was crazy, but now, I just thank God (the actual God, not whatever hateful thing my mom decided was God) I had the genes I did. Otherwise I would've been dead on the spot. Granted, had I not been born with those genes, she wouldn't have come for me in the first place, but that's completely besides the point. Anyway, back to our little standoff.
She smirked at me and folded her arms across her chest, even flicked her hair out of her face as an added touch. "No, boy, I've got orders from low places not to touch a pretty little hair on your head. Not yet anyway." My interest peaked immediately at the word 'boy.' No one ever called me 'boy.' Ever. I fumbled with my words for a bit, opening and closing my mouth, furrowing my brow and eyes darting everywhere around the room in an attempt to say something. Preferably something that involved getting some answers.
"How…H-How…" Thankfully, she cut me off before I made even more of a stuttering fool of myself.
"How do I know about the boy thing? Please, everyone knows. Everyone important." she said with a shrug then started to pace about the room, carefully avoiding the bloodied bodies beneath her feet. "We even know your name, Mason."
And that's when my heart all but stopped. No one was supposed to know that. No one. I'd planned to run off the moment I turned eighteen, skip town, change my name, and undergo all that other legal/medical crap involved with a sex change. You know, if I'd made it that far. Never really planned to, with the suicide attempts I'd racked up, but it was a nice pipe dream. Never, in my wildest dreams, though, did I ever imagine it coming to end by the hands of a demon. Furthermore, why was I not in the least bit freaked out, as in "oh my God demons aren't meant to be real why is one in my house?" Again, something about my blood. Some…weird sub conscious thing.
"Start talking. Now. How d'ya know about all this? I never told anyone. Not a single fucking soul." Okay, so my composure was shattered and I was backing into the wall, wishing I could somehow melt through it and run far, far away from all of this. A sinking feeling in my gut told me I'd never be able to properly run from this, though. Not for long before one of them found me again. Didn't stop me from being scared out of my damn mind, thought.
She smiled, moved a bit closer to me and my breath hitched. "We've been watching you, Mason, for your whole life, waiting for the right moment to pounce. I suggested we move in the first time you tried to off yourself, but the boss said no, said that if you'd succeeded you'd go where we wanted you anyway, so there was no point in making a scene. Pity. He's always so logical. Sometimes I wonder if he's even a real demon." She sighed, deep in thought for a moment it seemed before rapidly snapping her attention back to me, causing me to flinch. "We decided now, though, cause we figured you weren't gonna succeed. Something above wants you just as much as we do." My heart was in danger of stopping again from beating so quick. Heaven and Hell wanted me? Oh, that was rich. Why was I so important? What use did angels and demons have with a stupid, self loathing, pathetic trans boy from Montana? I gulped and looked her up and down, as if I'd somehow find all the answers somehow that way. Knowing I wouldn't, I asked away.
"What d'ya want?" My voice was hoarse, hardly a whisper. My terror was completely known to her, and just absolutely reveled in it, soaking it up and using it to make herself even more goddamn horrifying.
"I wanna make a deal." she said with another one of her smirks. I stopped shaking for the moment and backed off the wall, more curious than anything at that point.
"What kinda deal?" I replied, crossing my arms in the same manner she had hers. She chuckled.
"Simple, really. I make you a hundred percent real boy, and in ten years, I'll give ya a ring." My first instinct was to take it, but then I remembered this was a demon I was dealing with. Another one of those instinctual gut feelings told me that this was a very, very bad idea and that I should just run away and never look back while I still could. I shook my head.
"No deal. I dunno what it is but I just…I have a really bad feeling about this and I'd rather you killed me here and now before I make any sort of deal with you." Somehow, that was all completely true. I had no idea what the fuck was going on in my mind, but whatever it was, I went with it. And to further my shock, she didn't murder me on the spot. No, she just sighed and shook her head, even laughed a little.
"Typical Winchester." she muttered.
"Typical what…?" She gave me one last smirk.
"Nothing. Think about that deal. Mull it over and whatnot. I'll come back for you someday, but if you feel like talking sooner, summon me up. Name's Meg." Then with a wink, she was gone. Literally just vanished from the room, and then I was left there, standing on the stairwell, gazing upon the corpses of my parents, wondering what the hell any of what she said meant, and what the actual fuck I was going to do next.
Two years later, I caved. I was so sick of everything. I was sick of hunting, sick of sleeping in back alleys and benches and hitching rides with strangers and fellow hunters that felt sorry for me being so small and alone. Sure, by that exact period in time I'd finally gotten the hang of credit card scams and managed to max one of them for life on a dingy piece of crap car, but that wasn't worth anything. I'd chopped my hair off and bound my chest, went by Mason to anyone who asked, but at the end of the day, I was still a pathetic, sorry little thing just going through the motions of life. Well, the motions of a hunter's life. If I killed myself, I apparently was going to Hell anyway, so why not go down (quite literally) with a bang?
Yeah, I figured out what Meg meant by "I'd give you a ring in ten years." Hell hounds were going to drag me right into the Pit if I sealed the deal. I didn't care, though. Not anymore. Sure, I was scared. I was absolutely horrified, but I had no other options that didn't involve Hell. Of course, I could've simply suffered through life as I was, but even that option involved my own personal Hell. Might as well experience the real thing.
Another drag of my cigarette and another shot of whiskey later, my decision was made. I was going to summon Meg (throwing away all of my pride and dignity with it), and make the deal. Another shot to take the edge off, and I was out the door. To make it all official and whatnot, I found a neat little crossroad to do the summoning spell. I took out all of my materials and prepared it precisely, even while downing the rest of my bottle. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, finishing the spell with a few drops of blood painlessly (alcohol's really a beautiful thing). Then I waited, eyes peeking out to see if she'd show up. After a minute, I heard her manic laugh behind me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I whipped around to her.
"Change your mind, baby?" she asked, almost skipping over to me. I, however, was not in the least bit amused. I was broken and desperate and pathetic. My expression didn't change at all as she bounded right in front of me, eyes twinkling with wicked amusement and grinning.
"Yeah, I have. And I know what I'm giving up. And I know what you're gonna do with me when my time's up." I responded, steady and sure. She gasped, obviously sarcastic, and then smiled again.
"You've been doing your homework! Good, good." she mumbled something under her breath, and almost looked frightened, herself, but quickly all traces of it were gone from her face with a shake of her head. "So, I presto you into some dude meat, and I get your soul for eternity in ten years?" I fought an urge to either roll my eyes or gulp, wasn't sure which, and nodded.
"Yep." She frowned.
"You seem more distant than usual. Was it something I said?" she asked, feigning a rejected look. This time I actually did roll my eyes.
"Just get on with it." I spat, clenching my fists. She sighed.
"You're just like your father. No fun at all. Strictly business." she said with a pout. I raised a brow at her.
"I'm pretty sure the only interaction you've ever had with my dad was slitting his throat, unless here was something he wasn't telling me." She giggled. She fucking giggled.
"Your real dad, silly! The one who accidentally shot out the wrong chromosome." I nearly threw up. Out of what emotion, I couldn't tell. I was feeling so much at once it was impossible to place one fleeting thought, so I simply nodded, gave a nervous chuckle in response.
"You know him then?" Simple question, no doubt a loaded answer I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear.
"Knew." She replied with a shrug. "Haven't talked to him in years. My main focus has been you." She continued with another one of her smug smirks. I gave her a sarcastic one right back.
"Great. Can we just seal the deal so you can leave?" I wanted to know more, was yearning to figure out everything of my past. Over the past two years I tried so hard to dig up any information about the Winchesters, but all I dug up were old criminal records of two dead serial killers and a story about a house fire in the '80s. Nothing useful. But that didn't mean I wanted anymore to do with this hell bitch. I was bent on figuring it out without demonic influence, thank you very much.
"Manners, Mason. But whatever. I should be leaving soon, anyway. Other business to attend to." The way her eyes lit up when she said 'business' made not want to even try to ask what in the world that meant. If anything, it urged me to leave even faster.
She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I tensed up, already feeling gross for what I was about to do. As if to torture me even more, she wasn't moving. She expected me to make the first move. Throwing away what little dignity I had left, I leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, just long enough so I could feel the deal being made then broke away, spitting on the ground for good measure. She didn't even bother with a fake broken heart doe eyed look or anything. Simply rolled her eyes and stepped away from me. I didn't realize I hadn't been breathing until I exhaled loudly when she was what I considered to be a safe distance away.
"You'll wake up tomorrow morning in your new meat. See you in ten years, kid." She winked at me then vanished, just as she did all those years ago. I shuddered at the memory, shoved it out of my mind straight away and did a sort of walk of shame back to my motel room.
Sleep came to me surprisingly quickly that night. I'd expected to toss and turn, wondering what to expect in the morning, until the wee hours of said morning, but about five minutes after I'd rested my head on the lumpy motel pillow, I was asleep.
Then I woke up feeling…odd. I furrowed my brow, utterly baffled by how just plain weird I felt. It was as if my entire center of gravity had shifted higher, and it made me feel a bit dizzy. I blinked multiple times, trying to get the room to stop spinning. Once it finally did, I jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom.
"Holy shit." I gasped when I gazed into the mirror. "Holy shit!" I repeated when I heard my voice. Then I was grinning madly, rubbing a hand over the prickly stubble on my face. "Damn…" I whispered, close enough to the mirror to pick out basically every feature. I had short, brownish hair that was spiked up a bit in the front. My eyes were the same piercing green they'd always been. Meg must be a sucker for eyes, I thought to myself with a laugh. "Nice cheek bones too." I thought out loud, running a hand over them again.
"I wonder…" I muttered, leaning back so I was standing straight up again, still looking in the mirror. I lifted my shirt off and threw it to the ground, beaming at what I saw. Flat chest. Nice abs, too. No doubt Meg took into account how much fighting I'd done over the years and simply packed it all neatly into these new muscles. Even had a nice amount on my arms. I had to admit, she did a damn good job of re-making me. Hell, when I went back into room, new ID cards and whatnot were sitting on the table. All of them Mason. All of them with male gender markers. A sudden thought occurred to me, though, as I was about to leave.
I looked down, unzipped my now way too tight jeans and chuckled, shook my head before zipping them back up and heading out the door. Didn't even skimp me out on length. For a demon, she really knew how to make a deal worth while.
I sped down the highway, grinning for no reason other than the fact that I was alive. Oh yeah, and that I'd finally gotten what I wanted most. Sure, I only had ten years before those damn hell hounds were gonna drag me down under, but I swore I was going to live the fuck out of those precious ten years. The windows were down, the music blasting, and a large map book was in my lap, directing me to my next hunt. Everything seemed absolutely perfect until…
"Mason." At the sound of the low, gruff voice in the back seat, I slammed on the breaks, grabbed my shot gun and bolted out of the car at a nearly inhuman speed. I waited for whatever appeared out of fucking thin air to come out, but I was taken aback when the voice appeared right behind me. "I'm not goi—" I didn't let whatever it was finish its sentence before I turned around and opened fire. My eyes closed, probably out of fear, I noticed, so I opened them. The gun dropped to the ground and I gasped. A man (or something possessing a man) in a trench coat stood in front of me. I looked down and gaped at the two neat bullet holes in his coat, right in his chest. As if I wasn't shocked enough, when I looked back up at his face, the thing was smiling at me, even chuckled a little.
"You know, your father did the same exact thing when we first met. Except, he also tried to stab me with a silver knife once I got in his beloved 'personal space.' Go ahead and try that if it'll make you feel better, though there is only one thing in the world that can kill me, and I assure you, as fantastic as your hunting skills are, you don't have it."
Well, fuck. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? I slowly moved back against my car. My breathing was erratic, quick. Not once did I tear my eyes away from the creature. "As I was saying, I'm not going to hurt you. I've come to warn you of events that I surely hope have not passed yet." When I finally found my voice, it was meek, and way too high to be natural.
"Who are you?" I all but whispered.
"I am Castiel." And then I wasn't breathing at all. Guess all those years Mom forced me to Bible school paid off, I thought.
"Angel of Thursday…" He nodded, even smiled again for a brief second.
"Yes. And like I said, I've come to you with a warning."
I gulped, trembling as I did the first time I met Meg. Demons were scary, sure, but angels? They were warriors of God. All powerful and that kind of stuff. Not what I wanted to mess with. Not what I'd ever planned on meeting in my life time.
"All right, well…what's the warning?" I asked, still meek. Still sounding like a little girl who'd thought she'd just seen a ghost. Except, you know, I was a full grown man who was starting at a fucking angel of the Lord.
As if sensing my discomfort, the angel moved closer, placed a hand on my shoulder, and I gasped, a sudden warmth flowing through my entire body. A beautiful, wonderful warmth I'd never felt in my entire life, and just like that, I knew I was safe. Knew I could trust him. There was something else about him too that I couldn't place. He seemed to be purposely hiding this bit of information from me. This made me suspicious, but then he at least let me have the feeling of whatever it was. So much love poured out of that part, I thought I was going to burst from it. Okay. He wasn't telling me something, but it was obviously nothing bad if it felt that amazing, so I let it go. And then he let me go, leaving me cold and empty for a moment as I regained my composure. I just stared at him after that. As if I could've said anything to describe how that was. I literally went from wanting to kill the guy to trusting him with my life with a touch on my shoulder. What was a person meant to say after that? Luckily, I didn't have to because he spoke first.
"Have you made a deal with a crossroad demon?" he asked, grave. My heart was in my throat. Oh god, what did I do?
"Uh…yeah…Why, what's it to you?" I asked, biting my lip. His gaze softened and his eyes, fuck, his eyes stared right into my soul, and I knew I couldn't hide a damn thing from this angel. He sighed.
"Your father would be able to explain it better than I. I can take you to h-"
"Fuck. No." Demons? I could get behind. They wanted my ass? Cool, I could take 'em. Angels? I could get behind them too. No doubt I'd die if I got into a fight with one, but hey, what's it to them if I take my trip downstairs a bit early? But my father? My biological father who left me with the absolute worst parents for a child like me…ever? No. Not a chance. Not a chance in Hell, and I'd known, seeing as I had a one way ticket. "I'm not meeting him." I walked around to the driver's side of my car, opened the door and got in, prepared to drive far, far away from this angel and this bullshit. Of course, the guy showed up in my back seat the moment I started to drive down the highway again.
"Mason. I know you're angry with him, but he can help you. You're in grave danger, and you need to understand why." he explained. My grip tightened on the steering wheel and I bit my lip.
"Why can't you just tell me then?" I asked. He sighed again.
"Because he understands the more human aspect to all of this. More than I ever could. Plus, he's been dying to meet you ever since I informed him of your existence." he responded. I chuckled.
"Nice try, but no. Look, do what you want. Stalk me and keep me safe or whatever, but I'm not meeting the guy. Completely out of the question." A flutter of wings was heard in the back seat, and I turned around to find the angel had left. I breathed a fresh sigh of relief and drove on faster, hoping to make it to my next hunt before another visit from something else that wanted me to dig up my past.