Hello there everyone! So, in the recent watching of Reservoir Dogs and The Departed, I was inspired to do a Supernatural AU in which the boys are involved in professional crime with Papa Winchester. This actually tries to follow the storyline of the show in a twisted, mafia style way. Warning though, this contains profanity, violent crimes and corrupted morals! And a fun fact you need to know – this takes place in Boston, so everyone has accents!
Alas, I own nothing. Enjoy all the same!
Stuck in the Middle with You
Now, you gotta understand somethin', things weren't always like this. They used to be better, used to be fucking fantastic. But then somebody had to go and get some two timin' son of a bitch involved. But that's a story for another time…
Nah – now I'm stuck in this god forsaken room, stuffy as shit, smells like Papa Winchesters favorite Cuban cigars, mmm, those pieces heaven was the one of the most favorite thing bout my childhood. Only good thing in this room at the moment though. Papa's got some scum bag pissin' in his pants, Papa don't look angry, then again, he never does.
There's one light hangin' down above the guy, Pop's put it here for a reason, says it's real intimidatin' to these low lives, makes the fuckers real edgy an… talkative. Beethoven, Scherzo is playin' as usual, Papa loves his classics. Rest of the rooms shaded, those precious items Papa has got on them walls hidden by them shadows, not lettin' no body but Sammy an I see 'em.
Mostly they are pictures are of my Mother though, he adored that woman, she was his world. But then some mother fucker went an killed her, may God bless her soul and may she forever rest in peace. Papa was never the same again though. Her jewels and knickknacks line that damn wall, constant reminders for Pops, keeps 'im going I guess you could say.
We never did find the son of a bitch, but things are changin' quick, an these days were pickin' up the scent of an ole trail, and that cock sucking mother fucker better be pissin' in his damn pants, cause once he comes face to us Winchesters… Well, let's just say he'll be wishin' he never even laid eyes on Mary Winchester.
I'm real bored, just lookin' down at my shined Allen Edmonds, the dark red carpet spreading under me, rich and new like Papa likes it, says bloodstains leave a bad impression, so he gets a new one every couple months.
I look back up an see Pop's calmly meanderin' round the chair, a small smirk on his face as he puffs his cigar, eyes glintin' in that way that shows he's enjoyin' this mans fear. He leans in close to the little shits face, smoke comin' out his nostrils into the hazy room like some demon outta hell. I laugh at that, not even no demon would be dumb enough to mess with my Pop's.
"Now, now Jimmy, you see, I really hate ta be doin' this to ya, but we don't want no trouble. And whispers have it… you been bringin' some into our house. Now, haven't we always supported you? Gotchu an honest job? Letchu put food on the table for your wife an kids? And this, this is how you treat us?" Papa steps back with a sad look on his face, shaken his head at Jimmy in disappointment.
"Papa Winchester, I didn't do nothin'! I would never b-betray you an your family! Y-You're the only family I got! I…I would never!" Jimmy shakes with fear, lookin' up at Pop's with frantic bloodshot blue eyes, thin blonde hair matted with sweat. A sight I'm used too.
Papa Winchester studies him for a moment, eyes real hard, mouth twisted in thoughts. His ole gran' father clock dings real loud an obnoxious, always hated that damn thing. Papa turns away, seemin' to buy this pussy shits words. Jimmy almost relaxes, but before he can spit out another piece of shit, Papa pulls out his knife an grabs Jimmy's right hand. Jimmy starts screamin' an yellin, I get up real fast incase papa needs somebody to watch his back, but he's got Jimmy's hand real tight, and the poor bastard can't do nothin' bout it.
He pins the hand down on the arm of the thick oak chair, presses the sharp blade down real quick, and then, Jimmy ain't got no pinky. Bloods pourin' fuckin' everywhere, staining the dark carpet, spaltterin' on the fine wood, hell, even gets on Daddy's shoes.
"This is your last god damn chance Jimmy, next time, it won't be just your fuckin' pinky, it'll be your whole damn hand. Don't you be seen with any no good mother fuckin' cops, or it will be the end of your fuckin' life. You got that?!" Pop's raises his voice a bit an even I get quiet, takes a lot for Papa to get real mad.
"Get this piece a shit outta here." Papa grumbles, turnin' away as Ricky an Rocky come and grab Jimmy, real rough with the tiny bleedin' man. I chuckle at the big dumb guys haulin' out the fucker, like garbage men takin' out the trash.
I turn to Pop's and find he's at his prized Cherry wood liquor cabinet, smooth and lush, it was a present from his Father, ole Grandads gone now though, bless his soul. Cabinets only thing my Pop's has got of 'im, old man made it with his own two hands.
He pours two glasses of Milagro Romance, his personal favorite, hands me one and sips his own.
"Dean, I gotta tell you somethin' important, somethin' I've gotta tell ya now before things get to deep." He looks at me, his hand suddenly clapped on my shoulder, blood all gone as if he had never even cut the guy.
"What is it Pop's?" I ask, sipping my own drink.
He's quiet for a minute, I don't like when Papa is real quiet.
"It's bout Sammy."
Now, you gotta understand somethin' bout our family before I go on. Papa didn't just take Ma's death bad, it killed 'im on the inside. He got real hard an cold, raised Sammy an I to be the perfect professionals. I love it, always have, seein' my Daddy bring every man to his knees and knowin' someday I could be doin' that with 'im. Made me prouder then all hell to be a Winchester.
Daddy was busy a lot, and he told me it was my job to raise Sammy. Sure, a maid came in to be with us a lot in our Boston mansion, but it was me who raised Sammy. Them hazel pup eyes always watchin' Pop's an I, askin' questions and wantin' real bad to be the best, like Papa an I.
I adored 'im like hell, took 'im everywhere, showed 'im the round about of things, taught 'im everything I knew. We were real close, never separated through them younger years, he made Ma's death a lot easier to deal with. He never knew 'er, feel bad bout that, then again, he never had to go through the god forsaken gut wrenchin' heart ache like Pop's an I.
But then Sammy got older, got to high school and started seein' that there was more to life then the family business. He never said nothin' to Pop's, wouldn't dare, but said a few comments to me. I said to keep quiet, don't even try. But then one night Sammy got real brave and talked to Pop's. Damn, he never meant harm, but when he said he wanted to go off to college, Papa nearly beat the boy dead. Nobody leaves the family he says. Nobody.
Sammy was real quiet after that, just goes out a lot with his girl Jessica, tries to stay outta business, 's only around when he needs to be. I miss the kid like hell, but I gotta a responsibility to Papa Winchester.
I never hated Sam for changin', disappointed yeah, didn't really understand, but I wanted the kid to be happy, even if it did mean leaving, but Pop's never got that.
"What 'bout 'im?" I ask, swirlin' my tequila lightly.
Pop sighs an sits down behind his large desk, he leans back and puts his hands behind his head as his face hardens in thought.
"I think Sammy might have somethin' to do with… the rodent problem." His eyes flash quick in that god damn spotlight, lookin' at me intently.
"Pop's! You can't be serious! That's your son we're talkin' bout, my own brother! He would never do anythin' like that, never!" I try an keep my calm, but it's real hard when your father is callin' his son, my brother a no good fuckin' traitor.
"Dean! Dean! Now, I ain't sayin' nothin' for sure, but, there are some things that are makin' some of the others… suspicious." He goes one, a cool calm tone getting' the best of me.
"What "things"?" I sit, angry my father has even considered this.
"Charlie saw 'im with some were thinkin' might be cops."
"Charlie can go fuck himself. People you think might be cops? Did he even hear what they were sayin'? Come on, you can't be takin' this serious! He's your own flesh an blood for Christ's sake!" I shake my head an meet his dark eyes.
"Dean, I ain't sayin' we know anything for sure, but, I'm not gonna lie. Sammy's different then the rest of us, he don't like what we got, and I'm just sayin', keep an eye on 'im. And if we think he might be doin' somethin', well, it's you I'm gonna want to take care of 'im." He looks at me with sharp eyes, somethin' there I've never seen, maybe tinged with crazy.
"Pop, you sayin' you want me to spy on my own brother? Maybe even kill 'im if I gotta?!" I can feel myself gettin' real angry, but I try not to show it, gotta stay real calm.
"Dean, nothin' is set in stone, I jus wanna make you aware of the situation, there ain't gonna be none of my family's blood spilled unless it's somebody else gettin' there hands dirty. Got that?" He gets up and comes round beside me, hand on my shoulder again.
I roll the thoughts over in my head, not real sure where he's goin' with this, but I decide to keep my mouth shut."
"I got it Pop's." I look up an he smiles, pullin' me up an wrappin' me in a tight hug.
"That's my boy, now how 'bout we go an ourselves some cookin'? Huh? Some pie for ya?" He's got his arm wrapped round me as we head for the door, I smile and nod, not real sure how I'm feelin bout him and the whole Sammy speech yet.
I jus got this god awful feelin' I can't shake, that somethin's comin'. Somethin' real bad that I dunno if we can take.
Pop stops and looks down, he frowns at the blood in the carpet an sticky dryin' bits on his shoes.
"Now that's a fuckin' shame, I really liked these ones." He sighs and disappears in the damn shadows again, I hear 'im pullin' out shoes from the closet an riddin' his other ones.
He returns with fresh shoes and a cocky ass smile.
"Now boy, how bout that pie?"