headcanon: death makes u smart

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Destielle sat on a chair in the hotel lobby, regaling a few younger hunters with stories of Denoms and Anelgske. She seemed oddly biased towards the victories of Denoms, but Samantha, who stood in the corner, drinking from a tiny plastic cup, assumed it was just bitterness. Deanna had been gone for only a few hours, and things had already gone to Hell. Chad was acting like a maniac, typing frantic notes on an old word processor he had dug out of the hotel basement. Samantha had picked it up, and had vomited in her mouth when she read it. It was a spoof of those Carver Edlund books she'd seen Destielle reading in the library a while earlier, those books that were pretty much genderswapped, nonsensical versions of the Winchester sisters' lives. It was horrible.

Sam shivered as he leaned against the splintered wooden wall of the barn. His shoulder ached fr

om his fight with the demon spawn Mar-Delok and his clothes were soaked from the cold rain which fell outside. He let the knife fall into the dust and turned to his brother.

Dean was shaken up. His chest was heaving with exertion and his shredded shirt was barely clinging to his muscular frame. Sam could see he was hurt.

"Hey. Are you ok?" Sam stepped closer and put his arms around Dean. "We're going to get out of this, they can't keep us here long."

The brothers huddled together in the dark as the sound of the rain drumming on the roof eased their fears of pursuit. Despite the cold outside and the demons who, even now, must be approaching, the warmth of their embrace comforted them.

And then Sam caressed Dean's clavicle.

"This is wrong," said Dean.

"Then I don't want to be right," replied Sam, in a husky voice.

Samantha quickly dumped the finished work into the lobby fireplace while Chad looked on in horror. "That was my best work!" he shrieked.

"They are brothers, Chad. Do I act like this with Deanna? Everyone knows Deanna is in love with - " She paused, trying to think of which woman Deanna was currently in love with. Alexa? Destielle? Chad? He wasn't a woman. Or was he? Samantha took a quick look, and decided he was, in fact, a man. "I dunno. Sara Bareilles, maybe. I've already claimed McLachlan."

"But just think of it, Samantha. The untamed passions of two bro - "

"THE HEAVENLY PASSIONS - " started Destielle, before she was clobbered by an angry teenager.

"NEVER MENTION THAT FANFICTION AGAIN!" shrieked the girl, hitting Destielle over the head with a fire poker.

"What the hell is going on?" Samantha asked. "Chad is writing incestuous Carver Edlund fanfiction - "

"It's called Wincest," scoffed the annoyed teen. "Look it up. Or don't."

"Well, Chad is writing...Wincestuous fanfiction, Destielle is corrupting children, and Tammy is MIA. Plus, whatever happened to You? Or Fourchette?"

Her last question was answered by a loud thud, followed by a string of French curses. Fourchette stuck a hand up from where they were slumped face-down at the bottom of the stairs, and yelled, "Qui a m'appelle?"

"Hey, Fork," said Chad. "Como se llama?"

"Non," said Fourchette.

"No," translated Alexa.

"What?" asked Chad.

"Quoi?" translated Alexa.

"Quoi?" asked Fourchette.

"What?" translated Alexa.

"What?" asked Chad.

"What?" translated Alexa.

"I think you, uh, I think you're glitching, Alexa," said Samantha, focusing on Alexa's twitching eye.

"What what, what what? What what, what what? I'm gonna pop some circuits, only got electricity in my pocket," glitched Alexa, before falling to the floor in a shower of sparks.

"C'etait...bizarre," said Fourchette.

"Don't burn this place down or I'm calling Deanna," said Samantha.

Destielle pulled herself upright and shook off the teenage girl, and then sat back down on a sudden beanbag chair to continue her stories.

"There was once being a time, long ago in the past, when there was being a prophet being named Will. Will was a prophet of the past, rumored to be having of the special abilities. The legends be saying that Will was possessing an unknown power to that time, the power to be preserving one's lineage of power, so that future prophets may also be possessing of it. All Wills are to be being named Wills."

Destielle paused, stood up for a moment, looked around, and sat back down for no particular reason. "Is everyone to be paying of the attention?"

"Yeah," echoed the crowd of children.

"WE WANNA HEAR MORE FROM THE CRAZY LADY!" one kid yelled, throwing an ice cube at the Anelg.

"Samantha, please," Destielle said.

Samantha did what she had been doing to the little rascals all night. She picked the misbehaving six-year-old up and threw him out of the hotel. Threw.

"Thank you," said Destielle. "So, anyways...Will was being of the youth when Will was to approach a Sand Cat." She put a certain emphasis on Sand Cat, as if she was mentally capitalizing it. "The Sand Cat was to say to Will: Hello, Will. You to be Will."

"Will was being of the confusion. 'What is a Will?'" asked Will. 'You are Will,' said the Sand Cat. 'You were to be chosen of the God. One of the Hundred years ago, there was being dying a other Will. You are being born of the taking of the Will.'"

"'Thanks being to you,' said Will. 'I am now knowing that I am being Will.'"

Destielle continued her story, and Samantha turned to Chad in confusion. She only found, however, that Chad was staring at her in some sort of controlled horror. His eyes were wide and bulging, and his arm hairs stuck out like tiny swords. One pupil was dilated, and the other was anti-dilated. He looked as though he had seen a ghost. Well, something that would actually scare a hunter.

Samantha was on her last nerve. The kid she had thrown out came stampeding back in - for the fiftieth time. That was it.

"I'm calling Deanna," she hissed, standing straight up. "Get this place under control."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" shrieked Chad, diving under a table. A group of college kids who had decided to use the hotel lobby to study came in with a pizza, and dropped it as soon as they saw Chad freaking out. Destielle casually started a fire on the rug, and the children ran around screaming bloody murder.

"Crap," Samantha said under her breath, quickly dialing Deanna on her phone. "This is going to take days to clean up."

"Heyyyy, gurl!"

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a/n

yo what's up. It's ya gurl Chrysti. I've been partying hard this week. Lots of Netflix. Rewatching SPN. Cried when Cas had to erase Ben & Lisa's memories. It's an emotional time. I hope you like this chapter. If you don't I'll call Deanna. JK.

Bye.

Love y'all.

LOVERwinchester67.