Notes:
This is my attempt at writing a fanfiction in the format of an episode of Supernatural, because the idea came to me as an idea for a bad episode of Supernatural. There's going to be a Monster of the Week and *gasp* no slash! This chapter is supposed to be a hybrid between the THEN and teaser portions, so it's choppy. Imagine the title card popping up at the end.
It's set after 9x10, but I'm writing it before 9x10 airs, just going off the preview.
Scenes in this chapter are taken from 8x12, 8x18, and 8x21, hence they are even more not-mine than the characters/concepts/etc.
Supernatural (c) the CW
A dark-haired man wearing a blue suit with white button-up shirt sits in a chair. Another man is holding him by his lapel and pointing a gun. The dark-haired man is shocked about something.
"John Winchester is your father?" he asks. The man with a gun backs off and exchanges looks with a third man who is very tall and has long hair. A loud rattling noise begins. "What is that?" the man in the suit asks. He stands up, alarmed, as the quaking intensifies. "Oh, my god."
"What?" asks the man who had the gun. He has green eyes and a deep voice.
"Run."
An armoire suddenly opens with a flash of white light and a red-haired woman wearing a bloody dress steps out.
"Henry," she says to the man in the blue suit. She laughs and draws closer. "Silly man, you forgot to lock the door. But then spells never were your best subject, were they?" Looking around at all three men, she continues, "Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly."
The man in the blue suit shakes his head.
"You know I can't do that."
"You're not a fighter, Henry." As she says it, the green-eyed man with a gun tries to shoot her, but with a flick of her wrists she sends both him and the long-haired man flying into opposite corners of the room. She blocks Henry's path. He looks into her eyes.
"Josie, I know you're still in there. You must fight this."
"I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, pet. It looks like it's just you and me."
The green-eyed man comes out of nowhere and stabs the woman in the back with a knife. She falls to her knees, screaming in pain as her body flashes yellow, but the flickering fades and her gasps of pain reduce to light panting.
"Well that is no way to treat a lady," she remarks.
The three men run from the room. They get into a black car and are driving away, tires squealing before the car door is even shut.
"Mommy!" a little girl screams, thrashing in her blankets. Within a few seconds, a lamp is turned on. A brunette woman in worn-out sweats gets out of a bed on the other side of the room and goes to the crib where the little girl is crying.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she asks, taking the toddler out with significant effort—the little girl is big enough to be in a toddler bed. Sobs and hiccups punctuated every few words:
"There were men in a room. And then a red-haired lady with blood on her came out of a closet. A man stabbed her with a knife and she didn't care and the men ran away because they were scared of her."
"It was just a bad dream, Olivia. Don't worry," the girl's mother says. Olivia cries and clings to her mother.
It's night. The spring peepers are making a racket. The man who had held a gun and the long-haired man leave a house.
"This is crazy."
"Is it?" the long-haired man replies. "They got a pretty good life."
"Kids aren't supposed to hunt, Sam," the other man says as if the long-haired man is missing something obvious.
"We did."
"Yeah, and look what it did for us."
"Well, maybe they're doing it right. Maybe they can hunt and have a real life."
"You know that's not true."
Sam is losing patience with the stubborn man.
"Why, 'cause it didn't work for us?"
"Because it doesn't work for anybody," the other man says, stopping and turning around to face Sam.
"Okay," Sam says, holding up his hands, "Then what do you wanna do? 'Cause Victor's not gonna stop this."
The other man pauses.
"They said they were hunting a nest, right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, let's hunt them for 'em. That way, until we can figure out what to do with Victor, they stay safe."
Sam nods in agreement.
"Mommy," Olivia says as her mother helps her get dressed in worn clothes, "I had another dream about the hunters."
"What hunters?"
"The men I have dreams about sometimes. They hunt things. One of them is named Sam."
The woman frowns as she puts a knitted hat on Olivia's head.
"They're... they're just dreams, Livvie."
Olivia is playing with building blocks with another child in a well-lit room in a daycare center when suddenly she shrieks in pain and starts crying. A blonde woman dashes to her side.
"Rebecca!" the woman calls over her shoulder as she kneels next to the little girl. Olivia clutches at her head and shuts her eyes tight, tears of pain running down her cheeks.
Dean opens a door into a corridor, letting Sam go before him. Sam's face is pale and his eyes are red; he clutches the doorframe as he passes through as if he's dizzy
"I should be taking you to the ER," Dean grumbles.
"They can't do anything for me. ...You know, I've been remembering things, little things, so clearly-"
"What, donkey rides?" Dean deadpans as they walk down the corridor.
"You used to read to me," Sam continues, keeping one hand on the wall to steady himself and gesturing with the other. Dean watches him with concern, ready to guide him back to bed. "Um, when I was little, I- I mean, really little, from that... from that old, uh... Classics Illustrated comic book. You remember that?"
"No."
"Knights of the Round Table." Sam is intent on putting his words together coherently. "Had all of King Arthur's knights, and they were all on the quest for the Holy Grail. And I remember looking at this picture of Sir Galahad, and, and he was kneeling, and... and light streaming over his face, and I remember thinking, um... 'I could never go on a quest like that.' " He's stopped and is facing the other man. Dean waits. " 'Because... I'm not clean.' " Dean closes his eyes for a brief moment, knowing where this is heading. "I mean, I w- I was just a little kid. You think... maybe I knew? I mean, deep down, that... I had-" Sam has a hard time saying it aloud, even though it's not news to either of them. "-demon blood in me? And about the evil of it, and that I'm- wasn't pure?"
"Sam, it's not your fault."
"It doesn't matter anymore. Because these trials—they're purifying me." Sam smiles, his eyes looking a little wetter than before.
Rebecca holds Olivia close, rocking her in her arms.
"What's wrong, honey?" she whispers when Olivia opens her eyes.
"I saw the men again. I've never seen them when I was awake before."
Rebecca freezes.
"The men? Dean, and, uh..." Rebecca had forgotten what Olivia said the other one's name is.
"Sam." Olivia's voice drops to a whisper. "Mommy, Sam was like me."
"What do you mean?"
"He felt... not clean." Normally she wouldn't know how to use the word outside of the most obvious context but it made sense to her when she heard it. "When he was little, like me."
"You are clean, Olivia." Her mother looks her over, confused.
"No, not clean... inside."
"What are you talking about? You're perfect the way you are. There's nothing wrong with you, inside or out," Rebecca says firmly.
"Then why don't I have a daddy?"
The question is a shock to Rebecca.
"...Everybody's family is different, Livvie. Our family is just the two of us. It's not wrong for being different. You have nothing to do with why your daddy isn't around."
Rebecca only knew Olivia's father for a short time. A very, very short time.
Rebecca was walking back to her apartment one May or June night in 2010 after having a couple drinks with friends to celebrate the end of finals—the end of another year of college.
It was late and no one was around except for a man behind her who was closing the distance between them fast. Rebecca slowed down and tensed. She turned around abruptly to face the man. He tried to grab her and she promptly kneed him in the crotch.
To her surprise and terror, he was barely affected. She turned and ran down a nearby alley, searching for somewhere to hide. The man gave chase and caught her, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could scream. She struggled against him and bit his hand. His skin slipped off, bloody, like he was shedding, and she wasn't sure if she was more disgusted by the flesh that had come off his palm or horrified that whatever was attacking her probably wasn't human.
Out of nowhere, a huge guy appeared and pulled Rebecca's attacker away from her, plunging a knife into his throat. He let the corpse fall, the wound sizzling quietly, and Rebecca was awestruck.
"Thanks," she breathed after she spat out the flesh that had come off into her mouth. Without thinking, she reached up and kissed her savior on the mouth. When she pulled away, his eyes were wide and shocked—and hungry. Her primary thought after that was that his hair was kind of long for a guy, but she liked it. She liked his sideburns, too.
He read the attraction in her eyes and a downright sinister smile appeared on his face.
"I... uh... I've never done this before," Rebecca said, half-giggling. She'd always wanted to do something completely reckless and crazy like a casual, no-questions-asked hookup, and the adrenaline and alcohol in her blood demanded she do it now. A little voice in her head screamed What the hell are you doing with this creep?! and she ignored it.
The guy backed her against the wall and put his hands on her hips. She put her arms around his neck as they kissed again. One of his hands slid down and then slipped under her skirt.
He broke the kiss.
"Sure?" he asked.
Rebecca gave it a moment's thought.
"Nope," she said, grinning and kissing him again.
Rebecca lost track of time quickly. She didn't remember what time it was when she left the bar, only that it was shortly before closing. The sky was beginning to lighten when she and her sketchy knight-in-shining-armor mutually decided they'd had enough.
They were both panting and sweating. The man had had her up against the wall and he let her down carefully.
She leaned against the wall waiting for her limbs to stop feeling like gelatin, her eyes closed. Best bad decision ever, she thought.
She opened her eyes in time to see the guy zip himself up, retrieve the knife from the corpse on the ground, and walk away. She felt a little sad she'd never see him again.
In the present, not quite three and a half years later, Rebecca doesn't want to see the asshole who took advantage of her ever again, but at the same time, if anyone has answers as to why Olivia is seeing the same two men over and over, in dreams and now suddenly in a waking vision, it would be her father.