Chapter 1: Welcome to Round Rock

Authors' note: This fic is written by two sisters who passed around a spiral notebook to write at work on lunch breaks to see how many of our favorite series we could cram into one story without it going bananas. only lets you put it in two categories, but there will be Supernatural, Shameless, Gotham, Dexter, Marvel (the minor characters) and more. We hope you enjoy reading it b/c we've had a blast writing it and comments are very appreciated!

"Cas," Dean groaned, half asleep as he made his way to the coffee pot, scratching the inside of his pajama bottoms.

The entire cabinet above the coffee pot was covered in colorful post-it notes. They read things like 'How to answer a cell phone' and 'How to turn on the cable television' followed by lengthy, detailed instructions.

Luckily, coffee was already brewing and the kitchen was spotless. It was a perk-Castiel living them, Dean had decided. He and Sam were giant slobs and just the two of them could make a movie and pizza night look like a sixteen-person party had occurred. Castiel cleaned-really cleaned- and every morning so far in the new house had been a breath of fresh air and clean counter tops.

He sat at the kitchen bar, scrolling through his phone as he waited for coffee. It still felt strange being in one place for more than three days, but Dean enjoyed it.

After he'd poured a cup of coffee, he continued to look through odd news stories happening in the area. The apocalypse had been averted (for now) and with Sam and Dean both being cursed in different ways and the growing number of hunters, they'd been advised to lay low for a while-something they'd never done. Take a break from hunting? They may as well take a break from life.

Now here they were-Dean, Sam, and Castiel-living in the small town of Round Rock, Texas in a house, with jobs. Real jobs.

Sam had the education and degree and was currently working as a teacher at the local elementary school. Dean teased him about it, but good-naturedly. Dean had found a labor job working at the local plant. His supervisors feared him taking their jobs soon because he was physically strong and surprisingly disciplined. He also made more money than Sam, which he also teased his brother about. Castiel had found work at a florist shop near the house run by a woman who was almost as old as Jesus, but sweet on the fallen angel constantly reminding him 'what a sweet boy' he was.

The trip had even adopted a Doberman mix rescue named Joe from the local shelter. They were truly living the picket fence life, oddly enough, all together.

Joe trotted over to Dean and nudged his big wet nose against Dean's naked stomach.

"Hey, Buddy," Dean said, scratching him behind the ear before taking another swig of coffee. "Who's Daddy's buddy?"

"You're up early," Sam said, entering the kitchen, a bath robe over his T-shirt and pajama pants.

"Dude, I have to be at work at five," Dean reminded him, letting Joe steal a lick of black coffee.

"What are you doing up so early?" He asked Sam.

"I'm gonna go check out that abandoned house over on Ridge and Woodsong," Sam said, moving to pour himself from coffee.

Dean stared at him, brows furrowed.

"You should've told me," he said. "I would've made plans to go with you."

Sam sat next to him at the bar.

"You can't afford to miss work," he told him. "And it's probably just a run of the mill haunting anyway. Not really a two-man job."

"Yeah..." Dean nodded, looking down. "You're right."

They drank their coffee in silence for the next five minutes or so and then Dean finally said, "You know, it's weird. We spent our whole lives resenting Dad for raising us like this and now that we're free from all of it-"

"We go looking for it," Sam finished. "Yeah it's weird, but then again, it's us. That need to protect people is in us."

He frowned and said, "I didn't know you resented Dad for that."

"A little," Dean said begrudgingly, taking another sip of coffee. He slid off the bar stool and slapped Sam on the back.

"Let me know how it goes," he said before disappearing down the hall to shower and dress.

When he returned in his coveralls, Sam was already gone and Castiel was already in the kitchen, fully dressed even though his shift at the florist didn't start until eight-thirty.

"Good morning, Dean," he said, sipping his own coffee as he put away Sam and Dean's empty cups into the dishwasher.

"Morning," Dean muttered, moving past him to grab his keys. He eyed Castiel's post-it collection.

"So how's the human life treating you?" He asked him.

"I have some of my powers back," Castiel admitted. "I stopped sleeping again."

"Then why the coffee?" Dean wanted to know.

"Force of habit," Castiel said with an innocent shrug.

"Sammy, uh, went on a little tour of the spooky house on Ridge," Dean told him. "Wonder if he'll find anything good."

Before Castiel good give him some life lesson about how lucky they were to be living normal lives, Dean headed out the door and climbed into the Impala-the only familiar thing left in his life. He layed his head on the steering wheel for a few seconds and then picked it back up and started the engine. Life didn't stop just because hunting monsters did.

He stopped at the local taco shop to grab breakfast and was greeted by the same girl who always greeted him.

"Two bacon, egg, potato, and cheese-a la mexicana," she called to the back.

"Uh oh," Dean said, handing her his debit card-with his real legal name and earnings on it. "I'm a regular."

"You and about eight percent of the other plant workers," she told him. "But I also have a sharp memory so..." she handed him the receipt. "I'll just need your autograph here."

Dean signed it and passed it back.

"These breakfast tacos are great," he said. "I wish we had them back home."

"Where's back home?" She asked, passing him his copy of the receipt.

"Kansas," He told her. "But I've lived everywhere. Hoping to make Texas my home."

"Yeah, it's a great place to call home," she agreed, handing him a brown paper bag with tacos inside.

Dean took the bag and turned to leave then turned back.

"So if I'm gonna be a regular," he said casually. "I should probably learn your name so I can come in and do the whole 'Hey...Trixie! How's it goin?' thing."

"Trixie?" She scoffed softly. "That would be your first guess?"

"Ramona?"

"Lee," she said.

"Lee? Like Ashl-ley? Nata-lie?"

"It's just Lee," she said, tucking some rust-colored curls behind her ear.

"Ah. Well, Lee I'm-"

"You'll be late, Dean," she said with a wink.

"Mr. Winchester!" Sarah cried running over to Sam. "Jacob keeps taking my puzzle piece!"

"It's not hers!" Jacob said, hovering over his own floor puzzle protectively. "She's doing the waterfall puzzle and I'm doing the jungle. Mine has a waterfall too!"

Sam sighed and silently questioned his agreeing to teach Kindergarten until a higher grade level position opened up. He made his way over and squatted down.

"Sarah, I think Jacob's right. Your waterfall has more white on it and his has more blue." He showed her the blue piece, and then took a ruler from a nearby center table and placed it between their puzzles.

"You guys ever see this happen at the grocery store to keep groceries from getting mixed up?" He asked them. "Problem solved."

Sarah hugged him.

"Thanks, Mr. Winchester!" She said, going back to her puzzle.

The other kindergarten teacher whose class was adjacent to Sam's only separated by a closet where they could go to and from each other's room, stepped in through the closet door. Her students were currently taking their turn in PE class. She handed Sam a Starbucks cup.

"Kyle's mom bought a round of coffee for the kindergarten staff," she explained, and then added more quietly, "I think it's to appease us after he k-i-l-l-e-d the class hamster."

Sam took a sip. "Thanks, Abigail."

"That's not Abigail!" Jacob frowned. "That's Ms. Lytar!"

Sam smiled and explained, "Lytar is her last name, and to you she's Ms. Lytar, but teachers can call each other by their first names."

"What's your first name?" Jeremiah asked him.

"Sam," Sam told him.

"But you all call him Mr. Winchester," Abigail Lytar told them.

After the kindergartners were done being nosy, Abigail told Sam, "We'll miss you when you move up to higher education. Especially some of these mothers."

She chuckled as she sipped at her own coffee. Sam frowned, confused.

"I saw how many friended you on Facebook," Abigail said.

"Some dads too," Sam pointed out.

"You mean the dads that are married to other dads?" Her face was serious, but her eyes were smiling.

"Shut up," Sam scoffed playfully and a chorus of "Ums" rang out.

"I mean..." Sam faltered and then sighed in frustration.

"We're moving your Behavior Bear to red, Mr. Winchester," Abigail told him in a very teacher-like voice.

"No treasure box for you on Friday," Marcus added.

Sam clapped his hands.

"Alright, Guys! Let's clean up the room. It's almost our turn for PE!" He said.

As Abigail turned to leave to go fetch her own students, Sam said, "Oh, hey. I saw you were taking off next week. Everything okay?"

"Oh, yeah." Abigail seemed surprised by his interest. "My parents are renewing their vows so I'm flying out to Santa Barbara to be there."

"So you're not from here?" Sam guessed.

"You're not either," she replied, smiling. "I heard you mispronounce the name Jesus."

She meant, of course, the Hispanic name pronounced 'Hey-Suess'.

"Is this humiliate Sam Winchester day?" Sam asked. "Because there wasn't a memo in my teacher mailbox."

Abigail laughed and Sam raised his Starbucks cup to her.

"Thanks for the coffee," he said.

"Kyle's mom," sh reminded him.

"Right, the hamster k-i-l-l-e-r," he said, nodding.

After Sam got his class to clean up the room and lined them up at the door for gym class, he opened the door and waved to Ms. Lytar's class, who was returning from the gymnasium. They waved back excitedly, and a few of them even got out of line to give him a hug. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt that even though he was finally free from hunting, he wasn't really helping these children by teaching them the alphabet. He would really be helping saving their lives from evil.

"Hey, Steven!" Suzanna bubbled, entering the flower shop.

Castiel nearly dropped the two boxes of plant food he was carrying. Suzanna was their next door neighbor. Their very beautiful next door neighbor. She had about five pounds of dark chocolate curls, perfect white teeth, and bright eyes. She started looking around the shop.

"Is there..." Castiel began, trying not to sound too creepy. "Anything I can help you find?"

"Hm?" She looked at him. "Oh. Sure. I'm looking for something that says 'new mom'."

"Are you a new mom?" Castiel asked stupidly, having seen her almost everyday since they'd moved into the house and she was never pregnant or walking in or out with a baby.

"My sister," she explained, smiling. "I have a nephew. My first."

Castiel hopelessly began looking around. For the most part, flowers all looked the same to him. He just took orders, rang them up, and watered the plants.

"If it helps," Suzanna said. "She's not a rose person. Lilies are her thing."

Castiel bobbed his head up and down.

"Lilies..." he repeated gruffly under his breath and tried to remember which flowers were lilies. All of the flowers were labeled, but he didn't want to come off too obvious reading the tags. Suzanna watched him, shifting uncomfortably.

"Maybe Casablanca Lilies? Do you have those? They're my favorite," she added helpfully.

"Oh, yes, Casablanca Lilies. Of course." Castiel smiled pointedly at her.

He strolled over the computer/register.

"Let me just check our inventory," he said.

Suzanna smiled patiently and looked around the shop. Castiel could feel his armpits getting damp as he opened the homepage browser on the internet. He typed ' ' with one finger into the search bar, not realizing the homepage was already set to google. He very slowly clicked on the 'image' link and began to methodically type 'casablanca lilies'. He looked up for a second and caught Suzanna's eyes.

"Um," she began nervously, but then Castiel winked at her.

'Just like in the movies', he thought to himself in his raspy voice.

Finally, dozens of images popped up of flowers. He instantly recognized them.

"Oh, yes. We have plenty of these," he told her, and swiftly moved from behind the counter and turtled his way over to the correct flowers. Suzanna followed him and stood by him, looking like she'd been waiting to say something. Castiel realized she had been trying to let him know she'd already found them. He hung his head a little.

"How much do you need?" He asked her.

"Just a dozen," she replied, still looking at the flowers.

Castiel led her to the register where she paid and he carefully bundled and cut the flowers.

"Have a good day," he choked out.

"Thanks, you too," Suzanna said, and started to leave.

She stopped at the door and said, "Um, I'm having a barbecue tonight. You and your...housemates...are welcome to come. It starts at seven."

Castiel stared at her blankly.
"Yes, I will go," he replied solemly, and then smiled a big, toothy grin.

Suzanna's cheeks flushed. "Okay, see you then."

As soon as the door closed, Castiel let out a sigh.

"She hates me," he muttered to himself.

Dean's Impala rumbled loudly as he pulled into the driveway, the windows down and music blasting. He shut off the ignition and leaned back in his seat, exhausted. He closed his eyes for just a second and stretched his arms, then ran his hands all through his hair. Bits of dirt and dried oil that had settled into his hair throughout the day fluttered down all around him.

"Ugh, man. I'm beat." He tossed his safety goggles that had been resting in the passenger seat into the glove compartment, then started manually rolling up the windows of the car. As he rolled up the driver's side windows, he noticed one of the neighbors watching him. It was a skinny, older man in a bathrobe, standing in the driveway of the house next door on the left.

Dean sat up straight and frowned. The neighbor turned and started slowly walking up the driveway.

"What a weirdo," he muttered.

After all, that guy had invited them to a cat show when they first moved in, complete with a mailed invitation even though he lived next door. Dean let himself in the house and knew Sam was out walking Joe because there had not been any barking when he'd unlocked and opened the front door. And no big paws and wet tongue to greet him.

"I'm telling you, there's something weird about them," Darcy told Jane over the phone. "All three of them, and not just the fact that they're three hot dudes living together."

"Do you think they might be involved in something evil?" Jane asked, far away in New Mexico.

"Dude, they're involved in something," Darcy said, peeking through her blinds where she could catch a glimpse of their driveway. "I caught the oil and rags one taking a friggin' machete out of the trunk."

"Well, just be careful," Jane told her. "Just because you work for SHIELD now doesn't make you a super human. You just find and track them."

"Gee, thanks, Mom," Darcy replied sarcastically, moving away from the window.

"This other neighbor-the normal one- is having a barbecue tonight," she said. "She invited me."

"Maybe the other ones will be there too," Jane suggested.

"Who? The freak trio?" Darcy asked, moving to the kitchen to look around in the fridge. There was a jar of pickles soaking in Kool Aid, a container of eggs, and some mustard.

"Yeah, I'll definitely be going to that barbecue," she told Jane.

"Okay, well let me hang up because you know who just got home and I'm taking him bowling," Jane said.

"Sounds potentially dangerous," Darcy replied casually. "Have fun with that."

"I swear when I catch this guy I'm going to make him suffer," Carlton said, pulling a cereal bowl out of the fridge. It was filled with milk, but instead of cereal, there were Oreos floating in it.

"Carlton," Juliet said, sighing as she unloaded more groceries. "This isn't a walk in the park for me either, but this serial killer wants us dead. You, me, Shawn, and Gus."

"We could have handled this back in Santa Barbara-" Carlton interjected, but his partner wasn't having it.

"They blew up the Psych office!" She reminded him hotly. "They took pictures of me while I was sleeping. They stalked Gus on his runs..."

She stopped, visibly shaken, and Carlton had to remind himself that she was right. Their mysterious assailant-only calling himself 'Red' had something against the four of them and seemed to know where they were at all times and what they were doing. Chief Vick could no longer guarantee their safety and helped them to transfer-the only thing available on such short notice was the Round Rock police department-a sardine can compared to the Santa Barbara police department. Just to be safe, their caseloads were currently being kept light and they were only allowed to take on the most boring of cases. Mostly they just did paperwork. Also, 'just to be safe', the chief of police in Round Rock had paid for a rent house-almost like Witness Protection, and the four of them were living in it. Carlton wanted to kill himself.

"And besides," Juliet said. "This is only temporary."

"It had better be," Carlton grumbled neutrally.

Living with Detective O'Hara was fine, but Shawn and Gus...

"Oh, good!" Shawn chirped as he and Gus came in through the front door. "You two are home!"

"Don't call it that," Carlton growled.

"Oh, good! You two are safe-house!" Shawn repeated in the exact same tone he'd just used. "Gus and I just received our first official Psych case."

"A private case?" Juliet asked, brows furrowed.

"The neighbor, Jerry, actually, " Shawn said.

"That creepy middle-aged guy with all the cats," Gus added casually.

"Nice cats," Shawn said. "And pretty nice guy, despite the urine odor. He flips houses and convinced us that one is haunted."

"Haunted?" Juliet repeated.

"The spirits are a buzz," Shawn said, putting his hands to his temples in a dramatic way. "Because they're filled with bees, and those other-spectrum bees are telling me that we should most definitely take this case."

"Guys, we've been very sternly advised to lay low," Juliet reminded them. "If this Red thing gets any more serious, the FBI will hunt us down and put us in real Witness Protection."

"But this is a private case," Gus argued, frowning. "It's our own client."

Shawn opened the fridge to retrieve the Oreo and milk bowl. He began eating it with a spoon, hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter.

"Who knows?" He shrugged. "We might need an extra set of hands. Maybe two. Maybe a tail."

Juliet and Carlton exchanged wary looks. It did sound intriguing and pushing papers and staying home most of the week had started to drive them crazy.

"Anyway," Shawn said, hopping back down. "The cutie named Suzy next door has invited us to a barbecue. I don't know about you two, but when a pretty girl offers me meat cooked outdoors, I don't say no."

"You know that's right," Gus said, and then abruptly frowned at Shawn. "And she asked me. I'm just inviting you along as my wing man."

"Gus, we were both checking the mail," Shawn said.

"No we weren't. We were trying to get that Bop It off the roof. That Skip It you threw up there to try and bring it down fell and hit her car," Gus countered.

"But I checked the mail later," Shawn said. "And what does it matter? She invited us. I think I'm going to wear my blue Nordstrom shirt. It brings out my eyes."

"You mean my blue Nordstrom shirt?" Gus asked.

"Okay, enough!" Carlton snapped. "God, sometimes I'd rather just be in Witness Protection than here with you clowns."

"I thought this was Witness Protection," Shawn said. "And trust me, if we really were clowns, you would not feel safe."

"A barbecue actually sounds kind of fun," Juliet said. "Ooh! I could make my famous banana pudding!"

Carlton grumbled something under his breath and walked away.

"What's with him?" Gus asked.

"He's just suffering from cabin fever," Juliet explained. "It's hard for him to be so far away from home and not working real cases."

Shawn said, "Poor us."

Juliet frowned and asked, "You don't feel trapped like this?"

"Come on, Jules, please!" Shawn laughed, but there was the slightest trace of nervousness in his voice.

"Juliet's right, you know," Gus said after she left the room, shaking her head in disgust. "We're not really happy here."

"Gus, don't be that anti-piracy ad at the start of a DVD," Shawn said. "We'll figure out who...Red... is and we'll stop him-just like have every other criminal."

He sighed and added, "I just wish Jules and Lassie weren't up our butts twenty-four seven. With them around, I can't sleuth normally."

"I don't know, Shawn," Gus told him. "This one might be better left to the feds. Red knows a lot about us."

"Okay, could you and Jules stop talking about him like he's so clever?" Shawn asked. "For starters, he calls himself 'Red'-not even something like 'Red Fire' or 'Red Lightning', just 'Red' and second, being a good tailer doesn't make you dangerous."

"He blew up our office!" Gus reminded him.

"Or so he said, in a note," Shawn replied. "I leave several appliances on at once all the time. I had fireworks in the store closet. I let people smoke inside. There could be a million ways it blew up and he just took credit for it."

"So what?" Gus countered. "You and Lassiter are just willing to fall into one of his traps? Get killed?"

"Whoa, now you're talking killers?" Shawn scoffed.

"The man is a serial killer, Shawn!"

"Why? Because he took credit for murders that never went unsolved?" Shawn asked.

"I'm not investigating him, Shawn," Gus said sternly.

Shawn rolled his eyes.

"And neither are you."

Shawn blinked. "Come again?"

"You're my best friend," Gus said. "And I care about you, so if I find out you're investigating, I'll tell Lassie and Juliet."

"You'd knark on me?" Shawn laughed.

"I'm not laughing, Shawn," Gus told him. "I'm serious."

They stared at each other for several seconds and finally Shawn relaxed, blowing air through his lips in a raspberry fashion.

"Okay, Buddy," he said. "No investigating. Not if you're that worried."

"Thank you," Gus said. "Now let's get ready to impress Suzanna."

"I have first dibs," Shawn said as they left the kitchen. "After all, it was my Skip It that cracked her windshield."

Castiel allowed Dean to pick out an outfit, spray him down with cologne, and primp him hair. Dean concentrated hard-his tongues sticking out of his mouth on one side.

"This is a bad idea," Castiel said, pulling away. "Look at me, Dean."

Dean took a step back and cocked his head slightly.

"You look good," he argued, sounding slightly offended that Castiel wasn't pleased with his handywork.

"Suzanna wouldn't want to go on a date with me," Castiel continued, remembering his last 'date' which turned into a babysitting gig.

"Cas, she already asked you out," Dean said. "A barbecue, yeah, but she still asked you."

He pulled Castiel back in front of the bathroom mirror, working on his hair some more.

"I have nothing to offer her," Castiel said.

"Sure you do," Dean said, stepping away. "You're bringing wine coolers. Girls love those."

He looked at his phone and said, "Buddy, we gotta get going. One thing's for sure. Girls don't like to be kept waiting."