Hey, thank you so much Vettip for that amazing long review! I'm so thankful to you for taking the time to make it that long, I absolutely love to read about what specifically you liked and what little details you thought were good and just everything, I'm so excited. I like your predictions, actually that would be really cool, but unfortunately I fear this story will be going in a very different direction than you think. I do hope you still like it. It's a personal headcanon of mine and I've always wanted to get a chance to have these characters interact without changing the actual canon material (which I will do, I have a plan). I do want some advice from those of you reading, though: the main part of this story is actually going to be feelings-based, a lot of talking and some angsting and some emotional hurt/comfort. But should I include some actual action and possibly some physical h/c? Not sure. I have action stories planned out for the future (specifically Framing Innocence, which is supposed to have a lot of it and which I really want to get back into, but just… the whole actual-canon-season-9 thing is throwing me off the mood. But I digress), but I'm not sure if I should leave all that to those and keep this one mostly emotional. Let me know of you have an opinion!
Sam turns to give Dean a bewildered look, but his brother is already looking around the room, assessing.
The room is incredibly plain, grey walls and a thin, dusty brown carpet on the floor. There are no windows, which Sam attributes to his earlier assumption that they are underground. Apart from a generic bed, empty closet, and bare nightstand, the room is empty. It gives the impression of an empty hotel or dorm room, waiting to be filled.
Dean has moved to the closest wall and is running a hand along it as though searching for a way out, and Sam rolls his eyes. "Dude, you don't have to act like we're hopelessly trapped. They didn't even lock the door."
Sam's voice seems to end whatever trance Dean was in, and his brother's eyes snap to him. All at once, Dean straightens and bristles with violent energy.
"What the hell, Sam?" He hisses, and Sam steps back, genuinely confused.
It only seems to aggravate Dean, who steps forward and grabs Sam's shoulders roughly. "What did they do to you, huh?"
"What—Dean, I'm f—"
"Don't you dare tell me you're fine," Dean growls, giving him a slight shake. "Did you forget what the hell's happening here? What, because they gave you some food and said 'sorry'"—he pitches the last word up in an irritating imitation of one of the girls—"you decided they're our friends? Have you lost your god damned mind?"
Sam pauses for a beat, staring at Dean in mixed shock and anger, hurt that his brother doesn't seem to trust his judgment at all. He shakes Dean's hands from his shoulders and sidesteps him angrily.
"No, Dean, Jesus. I haven't decided they're our 'friends,' and I'm not just trusting them for no reason."
Dean opens his mouth to interrupt and Sam cuts him off. "Would you listen to me for once?"
Dean's eyes widen, but he steps back again and shuts his mouth, glaring at Sam in silent acquiescence.
Sam takes a breath to calm himself. "Look, they explained better to me than they did to you, and I don't think they're dangerous. But it's not just that," he says a little louder, forestalling Dean, who looks about ready to punch him, "what are we gonna do, Dean? Try and fight them? In case you haven't noticed, they stripped everything off us. They're armed, and we're not; and they're well trained, better than us." Dean scoffs and Sam gives him a dirty look. "Come on, man, you know it's true. They snuck up on us like pros in that alley, and they took us down in about twenty seconds. There's four of them and two of us, and now their 'friend' is back, which actually sounded like more than one 'friend' if you ask me, so we're even more outnumbered."
Sam's getting more and more exasperated, and Dean just looks at him like he's lost his mind. Sighing, he finally admits, "Dean, doesn't it freak you out, that they—that they know about me, about how I d—" the word catches in his throat for a moment and he has to swallow before he finishes softly, "how I died?"
Dean stiffens at the reminder, but his eyes soften for just a moment before his expression hardens again. "Yeah, how the hell do they know about that?"
"Dean, do you think they know… about your deal?" The words are barely above a whisper as he gives voice to his greatest fear about the situation.
His brother turns to him. "I don't know. But they know more than they should, either way. We—"
Dean cuts off as footsteps sound outside in the hall. A moment later, there is a short knock and the door swings partially open. Kate slides in, keeping the door mostly closed behind her, hiding whoever is behind it. "Hey. Thanks, for waiting. Um…" She looks nervously behind her, then back at Sam and Dean, and then finally steps out of the way.
The door swings the rest of the way open, admitting a man. It's somewhat anticlimactic, Sam admits to himself; he kind of expected something superhuman or spectacular, or possibly that he would recognize the mysterious "friend" of the girls. But this is just an ordinary man, as far as he can tell. The stranger is tall, though not quite reaching the level of Sam or Dean, and dressed plainly. He has short, dark hair styled somewhat conservatively, and bright blue eyes. Sam's guess would place him in his early forties.
The one unusual thing about the man is his shocked expression; he is staring at Sam and Dean with his mouth slightly open, eyes wide in surprise. He looks Dean over with the air of one examining a dear friend back from the dead, and then does the same to Sam. When his gaze lingers for a moment on Sam's face, Sam feels himself shiver and squirms uncomfortably. The movement doesn't go unnoticed by Dean, who shifts almost imperceptibly closer to him.
Kate also shifts awkwardly next to the man, then shrugs. "I told you," she says.
The man cocks an eyebrow and turns slightly to address her without tearing his eyes from the brothers. "You didn't lie." He takes a step forward and his gaze shifts to Sam again. "You said they just… 'showed up' at the end of your hunt?"
Kate is looking at Sam now as well. "Woke up a little ways from where we were and came straight into the club. They don't remember anything before that. We haven't, you know, told them anything. We weren't sure, ah, what might... we could have done damage, or... whatever. We just... we wanted to wait for you first."
The stranger looks again over to Dean, then steps toward him and reaches a hand out.
Dean jerks backward and his hand comes up defensively. "Woah, buddy, what the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I won't hurt you. Please. I just need to touch you."
"Woah, wait, what—" Dean starts again, but the man's hand has already reached him. The man lays three fingers on Dean's forehead, and there is a moment of awkward silence while Dean looks supremely uncomfortable and the man stares at the floor with a look of intense concentration on his face.
After a minute, he removes his hand and looks up with a puzzled frown. Moving to Sam, he repeats the procedure. Sam also jerks back instinctually from the touch, but allows it. When the man's hand comes in contact with him, Sam feels something strange, like a tiny shiver running through his body.
When Sam is also released, the man stands still for a moment, frowning at the wall. Kate, who has been watching the entire time from next to the door, speaks up. "So what do you think?"
The man turns his head toward her, then back to Sam and Dean again. He opens and closes his mouth once before finally speaking cautiously. "Your caution in not revealing anything was wise, but… unnecessary. This is not Sam and Dean Winchester."
Cookies for anyone who can guess what's happening! I'm liking this a bit more, now, and we're getting into the fun parts soon here. I'll be trying to update often!
