HEYO MY BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE! Z here!
I recently decided to binge watch Supernatural in order to get over my fear of it.
How many hours straight did I watch? NINE. I GOT THROUGH NINE EPISODES. I'M STILL ON SEASON ONE.
Anyways, this is a slight crossover with a freaking amazing series. Because WHY NOT.
I don't own SPN or said amazing series. You'll know what it is based on the chappie titles. At least the first 14.
On with the show!
The date? July 21.
I was sixteen.
That's when my life and pretty much everything I knew goes to Hell. Almost literally.
My name's Noah. Noah Azriel Montclaire. No, I'm not a guy. Noah is a girl's name too, you sexist asshats. Anyway, July 21. That's when my twelve year-old brother, Malachi, and I met the moose and the sarcastic green-bean who stole my apple pie.
I was waiting for Malachi to get home from school, as I had opted to homeschool ever since I was 10. My synesthesia wasn't going to let me learn properly; that I had learned the hard way.
To all of you oblivious people out there, synesthesia is a mental condition where a person's senses (synesthete's senses) are all screwed up. Think of it like this, a person's brain is a circuit board and their wires (senses) go where they're supposed to. A synesthete's 'wires' would go somewhere else, like hearing to sight, taste to hearing, touch to smell. Letters have colors, names have tastes, stuff like that.
Back to the recollection, I was sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book on supernatural beings. It's kinda what I do. I heard a car pull up in the driveway and I was assaulted by the smell of gunpowder and burnt popcorn from the sound of the engine, the hallucinated scent making me gag. Fighting the urge to cough, I grabbed a pan off of the counter and stealthed over to the door, peering out of a window. What I saw made my heart skip a beat.
A black '67 Impala with a license plate matching the Winchester's sat in the driveway. As I stared at the car, the sound of blaring AC/DC slammed into my ears, even though I knew the noise wasn't actually there. The doors of the car opened and I hid up against the wall, listening to a pair of approaching footsteps. 'Well, I'm gonna need to grab a better weapon in case I need it.' I thought in dismay. If these people were actually the Winchester's, shit was about to go down. And I had enough of that for my lifetime, thank you very much.
I had about thirty seconds tops before the two guys got to the door, so I opened the lid on the bench in the mudroom (luckily it was right next to me) to grab a proper weapon. I stuck a 'special' blade in my belt loop just before the doorbell rang. I peered the window again, to find two very familiar people standing at my door.
I sighed reluctantly as I disarmed the house, turning back around and opening the door.
"Hello, miss. I'm Agent Young and this is my partner, Agent Angus. We've-" The shorter of the two began, and I rolled my eyes.
"Dude, you and I and that guy all know that is absolute bull crap. My name is Noah, not miss and you'd better remember that." I replied and the two looked at each other and simultaneously flashed me their badges. I scoffed. "Really? More bull crap?" I asked and the guys' eyes widened marginally.
"Sorry about him. I'm Sam, and this is Dean. Are your parents home?" The taller of the two, Sam, asked. I shook my head.
"Dad's on a job." I replied as a school bus pulled up to the end of the driveway. A scrawny, tall kid stepped off and began running up the driveway. "MALACHI! YOU BETTER HAVE ALL YOUR HOMEWORK OR I'M CALLING DAD AND TELLING HIM TO COME HOME EARLY!" I shouted to my little brother, who picked up a rock and chucked it to the left, meaning he did. "GOOD! CUZ IF YOU DIDN'T I WAS GONNA MAKE YA GO ALONE!" I hollered and Malachi sped up, reaching the door in a matter of seconds.
"You wouldn't dare!" He exclaimed, scooching past the Winchesters and smacking me in the arm. I chuckled evilly.
"Wanna find out?" Malachi shut up after that. "Good, get going on that homework. Tell me if you need any help with the grapefruit."
"I dunno, it's trig." He replied, heading up the stairs. "You find what you were looking for?" He asked, nodding towards the open book on the table.
"No, not yet, but I'm close. Just need a little more time." I replied, throwing a pack of fruit snacks up to him. "Don't forget to eat, you friggin' nerd-weed. You know the rest." I turned back to Sam and Dean. "Sorry, you were saying?"
"Is your mom home?" Sam asked and I clenched my fist subconsciously. Dean turned to Sam and mouthed 'grapefruit?'.
"No." I replied through clenched teeth. I took a deep breath and calmed myself down. "If you're gonna talk to anyone in this house, it's gonna be me." I turned and walked over to the kitchen table, bookmarking my book and shutting it. "Anything you wanna talk about, strangers?" I asked deadpan, sitting down at the kitchen table and crossing my arms. Sam and Dean sit down as well, looking around the room.
"We were wondering if you knew anything about the disappearances involving strangers in town." Sam wondered. My eyes widened.
"Shit, Dad said he'd fix that." I muttered under my breath, releasing a sigh. "What? Disappearances? First I'd heard of it." I lied, hopping up and grabbing a soda and a slice of apple pie from the fridge. Dean eyed my pie enviously. "So, Sam and Dean, right?"
"Yes, that's right." Sam spoke up, nudging Dean in the ribs.
"You're names taste nice." I commented nonchalantly before realizing I had even spoken.
"Taste nice?" Dean asked, his features morphing to show incredulity. "The hell's that supposed to mean?"
"I have synesthesia." I replied and I got a blank stare from the elder Winchester. "Synesthesia is a mental condition where a person's… synesthete's… senses are crossed, like hearing to smell, names have tastes, words have texture and numbers have color. Most synesthetes have only one cross, but all of my senses are crossed." I explained, turning to Sam. "Your name is a pale wisteria and it tastes like vanilla ice cream. It's a rather nice combo." I then turned to Dean, who was wiping his face suspiciously. "Your name, however, is camouflage and tastes like BBQ chicken pizza with ranch. Now I friggin want pizza." I looked down at my plate, and I noticed my pie was gone. "Dean. Did you eat my pie?" I asked in a dangerous tone, fingering the blade at my waist.
"Nope. It was Sammy." Dean lied, standing up and pulling his brother out of the house.
Well, fudge a duck in a pile of pudding. Gonna have to deal with the Winchesters.
Great.
If you have watched SPN and would like to fill me in on Cas' overall Cas-iness, PLEASE PM ME. I KNOW ZIP ABOUT HIM.