Hello!
This is my first ever fanfiction.
I had been toying with this idea for a while.
It's rated T for future chapters where there might be a torture scene and a love scene
Basically there were a lot of loose ends regarding some backstories of the angels and demons
And I like the idea of hobgoblins.
Also, this has no set time, but its before the season 8 finale and after they find the Men of Letters base.
ALSO ALSO: The cover art belongs to the lovely and talented Luisa Schenk - you can find more of her art at
Tell me what you think (be gentle please)
They pulled up outside the ramshackle house - Dean, Sam, Garth and Castiel in the Impala. Vines covered most of the windows, twisting up and through the already broken frame. The wrap around porch was peeling away from the exterior, and there were several gaps in the rust colored shingles on the roof. A small garden peeked around the back of the house and a rust bucket Chevy pick-up was parked inconspicuously along the edge of the dense woods. The whole picture screamed neglect. Or trap. Dean, a stocky, sarcastic handsome man in jeans and a leather jacket, turned around to face Garth in the back seat, giving him a 'You-Can't-Be-Serious' look.
"I'm telling you," said Garth earnestly "I know this girl. She can help." He crossed his heart with his index finger. Garth was a small gentleman who was visually unimpressive. He had the eyes of a child and ears that stuck out from his head, but his heart of gold and grounded nature kept his present company from crossing the line on more then one account. A trend that would soon be called a habit with the current case.
There had been an outbreak of particularly violent murders on a cul de sac two towns over. Castiel, a brooding and scruffy angel with little knowledge of pop culture, and the two brothers - Dean being the eldest and Sam being the larger and somewhat more compassionate of the two - had been on the case when they ran into Garth. Garth, who had heard of the misfortunes, proposed they meet with a contact of his, whom he had met when he first started out as a hunter.
"I sense there is a formidable being in that house." Castiel said, looking out the window intently. "We should tread with caution." Garth shrugged and got out of the car, followed by Castiel, who murmured "This does not seem like a cautionary tread."
Sam and Dean exchanged a look of exasperation, and removed themselves from the Impala as well. The troop made their way across the large front lawn hesitantly. It was early in the day, and quite pleasant aside from the wooden monstrosity that only barely passed for a house. It cast a long gray shadow across the grass, yellowed with thirst. Halfway to the door Garth turned to face the rest of the party.
"You know, maybe I should do this one on my own." he stated shiftily, not meeting any of their gazes.
After a pause where Garth made no further effort to supply information Sam asked why.
"Well . . . she's not um . . . stable?" he tilted his head, unsure if that was the word to use.
"Is she dangerous?" Dean asked urgently, his hand twitching towards the gun in his belt.
"No, no no." Garth protested, throwing his hands up as if to ward them off "She's just . . . she's . . . well . . . Not unstable . . . she's - she's not a fan of visitors." he finished lamely. "So, how about, you guys stay here and I'll ease her into the situation."
"Garth, I don't like this." said Dean seriously.
"I know but she-"
"Is there a possibility you could get hurt?" Sam supplied diplomatically.
"Well, no . . ." Garth teetered
"Well no' is not 'no'. We're coming in with you." Dean crossed his arms. Garth sighed.
"Fine, but be quiet and don't make sudden movements." he conceded and continued walking to the house. The trio exchanged uneasy looks ('Sudden movements' mouthed Dean) before following the lanky man to the top of the steps. He knocked on the door. It opened at his touch. He hesitated and then pushed it open, looking over his shoulder at the guys. No one was inside the door.
"Hello?" called Garth. He stepped hesitantly into the entry way. "Hellloooo? Anybody home?"
Dean took out his gun and went in next, followed by Sam and Cas. The floor boards creaked and the group spread out, peeking into rooms or taking in the surroundings.
"Robin? It's meeeee. Are you here?" Garth called again. Castiel cleared his throat. They turned to him and he pointed to the doorway on the far end of the hall on the left, where extremely faint shuffling could be heard. Wind blew from outside and rattled the windows. The trees groaned, the house swayed and the bright sunny day seemed suddenly eerie and pressing. They passed through the door at the end of the hallway to an open space with a lopsided couch, a coffee table piled with books, several moldy looking beanbag chairs, a small TV, and a hutch with blue china. It looked as though it had once been many rooms, but walls had been removed to create a bigger space. Cas grunted and pointed to a door along the entry wall, all the way at the end. They tiptoed through it.
"Robin?" Garth tried again. This room was different then the rest of the house. It was almost completely devoid of sunlight. Like the previous room, it had once been several spaces, but walls and two floors were dismantled to create one large concrete box. Small slit windows peppered the areas closest to the ceiling. Old potato sacks, broken pottery, shards of glass, metal and skeletons of small animals were strewn across the floor. There were ropes, jungle bars and weight plates arranged in no particular order, set up along the walls and from the ceiling and a table of what appeared to be a collection of different sized knives on the far side against the wall. Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam, incredulous. Sam shook his head with wide eyes, having little knowledge on anything at this point.
Garth cleared his throat, "Hellooo-WAH!"
There was a bang, dust burst off the floor, papers flew, Dean fired his gun, several people shouted, weights whizzed through the air and in the chaos Garth, Dean, Sam and Cas were all thrown against the wall, held halfway up by an invisible force. A pause. Silence. Everyone was breathing heavily as the dust settled, revealing a woman who could be 35. Her stance implied that she was the invisible force, her hands held rigid and aloft, her legs parted, her feet firmly planted - supporting her should she choose to attack.
Her face was intense, with eyes were like ice. High aristocratic cheekbones were chiseled out by wild brown hair. She was dressed in a way that did not quite suit her. She had on hi-tops that were more duct tape then shoe, and a sweatshirt 3 sizes too large that came down almost mid thigh. Her jeans were dirty and torn with some traces of blood. Her's or someone else's, was unknown. She was breathing heavily too.
The dust cleared enough for her too see the intruders. She scrutinized them with deadly precision. And then, just like that, her face crumpled – it was open and confused, she suddenly looked no older then 20.
"Wh-wh-what?" she gasped "Garth?" she relaxed her stance and they all fell to the ground. "Oh my god!" she murmured shakily, rushing forward. She fell to her knees, trying to help Garth to his feet. "I am so sorry, I didn't know it was you. What happened? Why are you here? Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I didn't break the rules. You came here! You can't blame me for this." she then became aware of the other people. Panicked she whispered "Who are they, are they civilians? Did I just attack civilians? Okay, this was my fault. I overreacted, what if it was just a new neighbor or something?!" she ran her fingers through her hair, lost in an emotional craze. She was a very expressive person who talked about as much with her hands as she did with words.
"I am so sorry. Why didn't you call? I asked you to call if yo were coming. I didn't mean to. You know I didn't." She seemed more and more frantic as the men got up, unsteadily, seeming dazed and sore. "I didn't hurt you did I? I am so sorry." Garth went to say something but she grabbed his face looking in his eye, examining him for injury. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Its almost as it you were sneaking up on me." She gasped "Do you think thats me? In the next town? I didn't. I've been right here. I haven't moved, I promise, scouts honor, I'll write it in blood-"
"Lady" gasped Dean, bent over, wheezing for breath "Chill out for a second."
"Who are you?" she looked at him straight in the eyes for the first time and Dean felt scared. She resumed chattering, inspecting Garth and Dean inspected her. He felt as if there was more to this girl then her matronly attitude and psychic jumbo. Dean turned to Cas to say something, but Cas was staring at the girl, all blood had left his face. The woman continued to buzz and Castiel gazed at her, frozen in an emotion Dean couldn't quite place. It was a petrified emptiness that was all encompassing.
"and then I wouldn't have attacked innocents – I asked who you were!" Dean was brought back to earth, looking at the girl, he stammered for a moment.
"This, this is Dean" rasped Garth, massaging his throat. "And thats Sam" Garth pointed, Sam gave a small wave motion with his hand. "And this is-"
"Jimmy." finished Cas. Everyone looked at him. He reached out his hand. " My name is Jimmy. Salutations Miss . . .?"
"Uh, Robin. Robin Goodfellow." taking his hand and shaking it.
"Robin." he nodded at her and backed into line with the others.
She looked at them all. "So, these people . . . are like you?"
"Yes, they're hunters." Garth replied. Robin winced. She was still in an obvious mode of panic and was taking great steading breaths to calm herself down.
"Okay." she said plainly. "Okay. Why don't we all um . . . Sorry I – Well, this is a pleasant surprise . . . Sorry about the um, the . . . I am going in to the kitchen and making some tea. Why don't you all make yourself comfortable in the living room, while I go avoid a nervous breakdown." She turned on her heel, straight-backed, and left the room.
"Okay. What the hell?" blurted Dean as soon as she was out of earshot.
"I don't know." said Sam
"No dude, seriously? What. The Hell." Garth held up his hands in the general don't-attack-me gesture. He rounded on Cas who was still looking at the door where Robin had left. "And you. Why did you say your name is Jimmy?"
Cas turned to him and blinked. "My name is Jimmy."
"No. Your vessel's name is Jimmy." He spat.
"Do you know her Cas?" asked Sam.
"No." said Cas, carefully keeping his face blank.
Sam and Dean raised their eyebrows at each other.
"Should we go and sit?" Garth hinted as he made a move toward the door. The rest followed.
"Then why did you lie about your name." Sam asked. Cas paused.
"Cas. Do you know this chick?" demanded Dean, the angel sighed.
"We may have met a long time ago. I'd rather her not remember me." he supplied, displeased. Dean look as if he was going to speak, but Cas interrupted him. "However, because of our shared history I may have some useful information about her."
"Shared history? How well did you know her Cas?" smirked Garth, wiggling his eyebrows. Cas glared at him, which wiped all humor from Garth's face.
"She is a hobgoblin, a very powerful and unholy being. If my assumption is correct, she is actually the first hobgoblin. You may know her as Puck, or Pooka."
"Robin Goodfellow?" asked Sam in boyish excitement. "The Robin Goodfellow?"
"You know her too?" exclaimed Dean, feeling very lost.
"Robin Goodfellow! You know, Shakespeare?" prompted Sam. Dean still looked confused "Puck? Midsummers Night Dream? 'Either I mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite called Robin . . .'" Dean raised his eyebrows. "No? Okay."
"Refresh my memory, Sir Nerd-in-tights" Dean urged.
They each sat down in various areas on the living room. Garth flopping himself in a large purple bean bag chair, Sam sat on the couch, Dean leaned against a window seat and Castiel perched himself on the arm of the couch.
"Puck is an imp controlled by the Oberon, King of Fairies"
"King of Fairys?" said Dean, nervously.
"Yes, at least in Shakespeare. In the play, Puck is in charge of collecting a flower cursed by cupid, and from the flower's juice, you can make anyone fall in love with the first person they see. The King of the Fairies wanted to help a poor maiden he saw in the woods pursuing a man that did not love her. Puck accidentally puts it in the eyes of the wrong guy who happens to be the maiden's best friend's lover who then falls in love with the first maiden and then the Queen of the Fairys falls in love with a man with a donkeys head who's preparing for a play thats going to be put on for a different king and queen and then Puck puts the juice in the right guys eyes, but doesn't remove it from the wrong guys eyes so the second girl who's not the queen-"
"Dude." Dean said, holding up his hand. "Sparknotes it for me, would you?"
"Right, uh. Puck is a mischief maker, but the lore of Puck is that he – well I guess she – is a little devilish woodland spirit who plays pranks on the well-off and arrogant."
"Robin is Puck, but Puck is not Robin." announced Garth.
"Well, thank you Garth. That - that really helped." sneered Dean.
"Garth is referring to Historical context. William Shakespeare's Puck is based off of this Robin Goodfellow who resides here, how ever she is an irregular term called a hobgoblin. Most of 'Pucks' or the Puca species refers to a sprite or fairy. She is neither and therefore this Robin is Puck but a puck is not Robin." Castiel stated flatly. Everyone looked at Cas, burning with curiosity.
"So what is she Cas?" Sam prompted.
"I took the keys!" Garth shouted suddenly, taking keys out of his pocket and jingling them in the air. The faint sound of door hinges floated through the house, followed by the click of the door closing.
"Are we keeping her against her will?" asked Sam.
"Yeah, I don't feel like being wallpapered again." muttered Dean.
"No, I just know her. She's a bit skittish 'round people." snickered Garth, settling himself down farther into the bean bag. There was a squeak and he jumped.
"Hello Angus!" laughed Garth. Dean jumped and scooted away when Garth turned around cradling a medium-sized white and brown ferret. The ferret crooned and nuzzled his face affectionately, before curling up on his lap.
"Garth?" began Sam.
"Yeah" he asked, scratching the rodent between the ears.
"How did you meet Robin?"
"Yes, how well do you know her." asked Cas, turning his full attention on Garth.
"He was getting his but kicked by a demon." interrupted Robin. Everyone jumped. She came in with mismatched mugs balanced on a tray with cream, sugar, and large teapot, orange juice and white bread ham and cheese sandwiches.
"So were you!" Garth jested good-naturedly
"We" she amended, placing the tray on a pile of books "were getting our butts kicked by demons. I lost control and they died and I invited Garth out for hamburgers." she surmised matter-of-factly. "He promised to keep in touch and keep my secret, which I assume he has told you. Help yourself to eaties." she stole a sandwich and looked at them, expectantly. The ferret dashed off Garth's lap, ran up Robin's jeans and curled around her neck, looking absolutely content. Dean shuddered, displeased at the obvious intimacy with the rodent.
No one said anything.
"I assume you're here for a reason. What have I done? Or what can I do? One or the other. Or neither. Or both."
Garth began to explain the murders, the odd claw marks, the stains on the windows and other clues they had found. Dean caught Sam's eye and jerked his head at Cas. Cas was acting very strange. Robin's full attention was on Garth, absorbing everything he said, occasionally asking questions, or pointing out things that may have been missed, but Cas was staring openly at her. Soaking her in like a sponge. His expression was similar to the one Dean had witnessed at a whore house - the time Dean took Cas to loose his virginity. It was a blind panic, but something else too, a pain. And it was so subtle, it burned out of his eyes but left no trace on his face or posture. Dean shot Sam a quizzical look, Sam shrugged looking perturbed.
"Jimmy are you okay?" Garth asked suddenly. Castiel was shocked out of his trance.
"Yes, forgive me. I think I'm in need of some air." and he swept out of the room, his coat swaying behind him.
"Is he okay?" muttered Robin.
"Yeah, I'll go talk to him. He's new, I imagine this is a bit much for him." Dean pushed himself off the window seat and followed.