"Let him go, Crowley!" Dean shouted, clenching his fist as he watched the demon pull Henry closer to him. Sam's grip around the demon blade tightened, resisting the urge to lunge at them.
Crowley looked between the Winchesters, a knowing smile forming on his lips as he tilted his head. His eyes lingered on Dean, whose face was doing nothing to hide the pure terror he was feeling.
"Dammit, Crowley! Just – just let him go. He's not part of this!"
"My, my Dean. If I didn't know any better, I'd say those were parental instincts." Crowley's brow furrowed as he looked back down at Henry, then to Dean. "He's not your little brat, is he?"
Dean was watching Henry struggle against Crowley's hold, uncomfortable and scared. He swallowed hard, "He's not my son, no."
"Hmm," Crowley considered. "So what's this then? Trying to get into some mommy's pants? To be honest, mate, I didn't consider you the MILF type. Unattached bimbos seem like your cup of tea."
"Knock it off!" Sam yelled. "Let him go!"
Crowley's smile fell as he looked between the brothers, "Not until you two stop SCREWING AROUND! What do you think this is – a bloody game? That you can just call on ole Crowley whenever it's convenient for you? Have you been completely delusional to the WORLD ENDING? Because while you two blubbering idiots were away, I had to send my men to stop the Croatoan Virus from being leaked into the masses. You're welcome for that, by the way. Maybe instead of immediately making demands after you summon me, you show a little appreciation."
Neither brother said a word.
Henry looked up toward Crowley. "Thank you," he said softly.
"Henry!" Dean and Sam both exclaimed.
Crowley smiled down at the boy, raising his hand as he gestured to him. "See, this is what I meant." He looked back down at Henry, studying him for a moment before he looked back up at Dean. He smiled, "Tell you what. I will take you," he pointed to Dean, "to Death's location tomorrow at noon and give you everything you need to kill him. On one condition: you have to bring the brat's mother along."
"What?" Dean asked, narrowing his eyes. "Why?"
"I would like to meet the woman; I've heard much through the demon grapevine," Crowley answered with a shrug. "The savior. I'd like to compliment her on teaching her son such nice manners."
Dean shook his head. "Why in the world would I bring her; she has nothing to do with this. There's no way I'm letting her come anywhere close to you – or Death for that matter."
Crowley sighed dramatically, wrapping his arm around Henry tighter. "Such a pity. It seems that if you don't agree, I'll have to leave with the lad. Good luck explaining that to his mum – how you let a demon get their hands on her son. Wanna make bets on how long it will take for her to beat the hell out of you? I hear she's feisty."
A low growl-like exhale left Dean's lungs, a scowl painted on his brow. "Fine."
With a snap of his fingers, Henry appeared in Dean's arms. Henry clung to him as Dean picked him up in a firm and protective hug. The demon smiled, "Remember, Dean. Here, tomorrow with the girl at sunrise. And don't be late. Chicago might not make it if you are."
"What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stay in the car; I warned you not to leave. What the hell did you think was gonna happen?"
"Dean," Sam said calmly.
"He could have taken you; he could have killed you!"
"Dean," he pressed harder.
The older brother finally looked from the road to Sam, "What?! I told you we should have taken him back. I should have pulled this car around the second the kid popped out of the back seat. Crowley's not dangerous," Dean mimicked Sam's voice, "we can handle him. The hell we handled him - he handled us!"
"You're right, okay?" Sam insisted, matching his brother's annoyance, taking a deep sigh. "I'm sorry. But Dean," he edged, forcing Dean's gaze from the road once again.
Sam gestured with his eyes to the backseat. Dean adjusted the rear-view mirror until Henry came into view. He was sitting on the back bench, slumped with his head down and his arms folded, his chest rising and falling heavy. Dean could recognize a crying kid.
He took a deep breath. He was still angry – furious – but that wasn't helping anything at the moment. Henry looked so tiny, and Dean was suddenly reminded that the kid was only 10 years old. It was hard to keep in mind how young he was.
"Henry," he said softer, waiting for the boy to lift his head up, "you're safe now. I won't let that bastard lay a finger on you again, ever."
Henry took a deep breath, wiping away the tears on his cheeks as he nodded.
Sam turned to face him, "Are you okay?"
He nodded, "I'm sorry I ruined your plans and put you in danger."
"It's you we were worried about, Henry," Sam reminded.
Henry sniffled a few times, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jacket. "What – what are we gonna tell Emma?"
Dean took a deep breath, having been running over the same question in his head since Henry popped up in the back seat in the first place. He shrugged, "The truth." Sam rose his brow. "I know, she'll be mad as hell. But it would be worse to get caught lying. Talking her into going with me tomorrow – now that'll be a bitch."
Emma pushed her legs closer to her chest as she continued to stare blankly at the television screen. David and Mary Margaret were cuddled on the couch, the latter blowing her nose in a tissue as the former was fighting every hero muscle in his body to keep his tears at bay. On the screen was a heart wrenching scene of Sophie being forced to choose which of her two children would be spared from the Germans.
It'd been Mary Margaret's vote to watch Sophie's Choice; David wanted Swamp Thing, Emma wanted Grease 2. Over the last couple of months, Emma began to notice that her roommate's collection of movies and music dated back to the late 70's, early 80's – specifically 1982. In retrospect, it made sense considering that's when the town appeared.
In the end, Mary Margaret drew the longest straw and sprung toward the VCR to put in the movie. Emma only shrugged; her concentration was elsewhere, anyhow.
As soon as they'd gotten home, Henry got ready for bed. Despite his insistence that he was no longer having nightmares, Emma still worried about him going into that dream inferno. Tonight he said he was going to prove his point, running straight up to the bedroom where he tucked himself in for a nice long sleep – free of waking up in the middle of the night like he'd done so many times that prior week. David had done all he could to reassure Emma, even making a point to mention how Henry hadn't woken up at all in the first hour of the movie, and how if Emma did go check on him, it could break his REM cycle and then he'd never get back to sleep.
Emma sighed her reluctance to take her father's advice, trying once again to focus on the story in front of her. But there was something else that was disrupting her concentration.
Regina – and how mad she'd gotten at her before they left the diner. She hadn't meant for that to happen; she'd gone out on the patio to thank the woman for coming. But after the curse broke, after finding out who she really was, who she used to be – it was hard for Emma to completely trust the woman. And honestly, she still felt she was in the right, no matter how much of what Sam had said about Regina changing had comforted her.
Emma closed her eyes, taking a sip of her glass of wine, sighing again. And she'd had such a great day up until then too.
After the initial awkward walk in on her parents in bed together, the evening had gone quite nicely. Henry set each of them up on a station. Dean was on knife duty, cutting up the toppings into small pieces – apparently Henry believed he had the most experience when it came to using the knife, despite his grandfather's insulted brow when he pointed out that he was the one most familiar with a sword. Instead, Henry put David on hamburger meat duty, a few good humored teases from Dean when he compared his knife to her father's spatula. Emma, Mary Margaret, and Henry were in charge of putting the tacos together. And after a few hours of dancing around one another in the kitchen, listening to a rock station Henry picked out just for Dean, they all contributed in cleaning up.
Mary Margaret had to nudge Emma's arm a few times when her eyes would linger too long on Dean, an embarrassed flush coating Emma's cheeks.
Even now, she could feel her face heat up just thinking about it.
The movie came to an end, Emma's eyes the only dry pair in the small living room. Tip-toeing away from her parents, she made her way up the stairs to her own bedroom and opened the door quietly.
The room was empty.
Emma felt her blood run cold - her throat drop into her stomach at the sight of the empty bed, free of the small life form that was supposed to be occupying it.
"Henry's gone!" she yelled, running back down the stairs, skipping every other step until she met back up with her parents in the kitchen.
Her mother's brow creased, "What do you mean? You said he went to bed hours ago."
Emma began to frantically search her person for her phone, "He did! Brushed his teeth and everything. Do you think it was Regina?" she asked, pausing as she gripped the phone in her hand.
She didn't want to believe it - that Regina could come in during the night and actually steal Henry away. She was waiting for her parent's response to confirm her panic.
Mary Margaret peered up at David, whose expression read clearly 'I wouldn't doubt it'. But Mary Margaret pressed her palm against his chest in an effort to calm him before she turned back toward her daughter, "We don't know that Emma."
"It makes sense," Emma replied, throwing her hands up. "I tell her I don't think it's a good idea for him to stay with her, she gets pissed, and then breaks into the loft to steal him away in the middle of the night! It wouldn't be the first time she's broken in here - and now she has magic!"
"Emma," Mary Margaret tried to ease her daughter's dread. "Don't jump to conclusions. There's a possibility he could have snuck out - it wouldn't be the first time he's done that."
That didn't make her feel any better, the thought of her son sneaking out of their house in the middle of the night to god knows where. Last time he'd run away, he ended up getting trapped underground in the mines. Emma squeezed her eyes closed, what the hell kind of mother was she turning out to be anyway? What made her think she could do this? Her first week of real motherhood and her son runs away.
She shook her head; she didn't have time for that now. She had to find Henry.
"I'm calling Dean," she finally said, lifting up her phone ready to dial his number –
There was a knock at the door.
Emma rushed over to the entrances and pulled the door open to the sight of Henry standing on the doormat, Dean standing behind him.
"Henry!" she all but cried out, throwing her arms around her son. Flashes of the night he came to get her in Boston rushed through her, remembering the way Regina ran out her own doorway so distraught before she threw her own arms around the boy after he'd run away. Suddenly she began to sympathize with the woman, and the resolve she'd built up earlier was beginning to fade.
Henry was clinging on to her, hugging her back with a cry out for forgiveness as he began to repeat muffled "I'm sorry"s in her shoulder.
She started to rub his back, trying to sooth and reassure him that he was okay. She peered up toward Dean, who was looking equal parts happy and distraught. About what, she wasn't sure - but she'd bet it had something to do with where exactly Henry had been and how he'd come to find himself in Dean's company.
Dean kneeled down, becoming eye level with both Henry and Emma. He lifted his hand to the back of Henry's head, cradling it lightly as he tried to avoid Emma's prying gaze. "Henry, why don't you go to bed - you've had a long night. I'll talk to Emma, alright kid?"
Henry turned to face him, nodding before he pulled his arms away from Emma's neck and replaced it with Dean's. He responded to the hug, closing his eyes as he pat the boy's back. A second later he was walking through the doorway, Mary Margaret and David prepared to help him get ready for bed.
"What the hell is going on?" Emma strained the minute she was alone with Dean in the hallway. He sighed, reaching behind her to close the apartment door more so that they would have a bit more privacy. She crossed her arms, "Dean, where was Henry tonight?"
"He snuck out," he replied, pushing his hands into his pockets. "He sprung up in the backseat of my car when Sam and I were driving out of town."
Emma was taken back, "You - you were leaving?"
"No," Dean insisted quickly, clearing his throat when he realized just how quick. He answered again more calmly, "No, we weren't leaving. We just had to go meet someone."
Her head tilted as she rose an eye brow, "Who?"
Dean opened his mouth, sighing when he couldn't figure out how to exactly explain everything to her. He swallowed, "His name is Crowley. He's a - he's a demon."
"A what?" Emma's eyes widened. "First of all, why were you meeting a demon - I thought they were the bad guys? And second, why the hell was my son with you?"
He was beginning to feel like this guilt was never going to lesson, and he was bracing himself for it to get worse. But he had to tell her - tell her everything. "He's an ally - sort of. Enemy to our enemy, you know how that goes. He doesn't want the apocalypse to start, so he's been helping us a little to try and stop Lucifer and Michael."
"The archangels," Emma said, recalling everything Dean had told her about his world.
He nodded. "Bobby made a deal with Crowley to help us find the remaining horsemen. He was the one that told him that Pestilence was here. And now he knows where the last one is - Death."
"Okay," Emma nodded, her arms still crossed. "And what does this have to do with Henry?"
Dean reached up to scratch his neck, nervous about the next bit of information he'd have to share. "Henry heard us talking about going to meet with him tonight - but I guess he thought we were leaving for good. So he snuck out and into the Impala to hide in the backseat until we were past the town line before we caught him. I wanted to turn around and take him back, I didn't want him to be there -" he swallowed hard, "but we were already so far out, and we needed that information. So, we told Henry to stay in the car, to hide."
Emma felt the lump in her throat grow, anticipating the way this story was going to end as she tried to remind herself that her son was home now, that he was safe.
She could tell that whatever Dean was about to say next was difficult; he squeezed his eyes shut as he exhaled deeply, "He didn't listen. Crowley heard the door open and got him -" Emma's mouth dropped, Dean held up his hands before he went on to explain frantically, "but it was only for a few minutes! He didn't hurt him or anything, I promise."
"Wh-why did he take him anyway? What the hell, Dean?!"
"He's a bastard, Emma, a right jack ass if there ever was one."
"And you're working with him?"
He sighed, "Just for now. After we stop this, we'll go back to killing that son of a bitch and everyone like him. But right now - we need him. He knows where Death is."
Emma forced herself to calm down. Dean and Sam were having to deal with the apocalypse - she was the savior, and she still couldn't imagine the pressure that was forced on them. She looked at him closer, finally seeing past her own anger and realizing how distraught he was about this whole thing. She saw how much Henry being in danger scared him, and how guilty he felt because of it. So she took in a deep sigh, "Well, did this... thing tell you where to find Death?"
Dean cringed, obviously his bad news wasn't over. "He's going to show me, tomorrow morning. He said something about Chicago - how it was in danger. But, uh... here's the thing. He said that he wouldn't take me unless - unless you came with me."
"Me? What the hell does that bastard want with me?"
"I don't know," Dean insisted. "I told him I didn't want you anywhere near him - or a horsemen, for that matter. But - but me agreeing to bring you was the only way I could convince him to let go of Henry."
Emma felt a pang in her gut, a mixture of anger and understanding. If Henry's life had been on the line, she would have done the same thing. She felt like she'd taken so many deep breaths to calm herself that she was beginning to feel light headed.
"I'm sorry, Emma," Dean's eyes cried out an apology his words could never convey. "This is all my fault."
Emma looked toward the door, imagining Henry in the arms of a demon - her imagination picturing one of the sleezy men she used to have to track down, but with red horns and a fork tail. Just picturing it was enough to make Emma sick, she couldn't imagine how Dean must have felt. "Is he - is Henry okay? Has he been like, scarred for life?"
"The kid's adoptive mother is the Evil Queen - his real mother the savior and grandparents Disney characters. I think we might be past scarred for life," he tried to smile, but she could see the pain behind the vial. "He's a strong kid, Emma; he's so brave. Sometimes I forget that he's just 10 years old."
"I know what you mean."
He swallowed hard, "I'm just - I'm sorry I couldn't protect him today."
"Hey," she reached out to grip his hand in hers, an unspoken reassurance that she understood. "You did protect him today. This horsemen thing, we'll figure it out. We'll get through this. Together."
Emma climbed into the passenger's seat of Dean's car, a small duffle bag over her shoulder. She wasn't sure how long this little trip would take, but Dean had said Chicago. So obviously there would be a bit of overnight driving or hotel stops on their journey.
Dean must have had the same notion, because one of his bags was sitting in the backseat. He had two Granny's to go cups in his hands, offering the cocoa to Emma once she got settled in, keeping the coffee for himself. She took it willingly, needing something to wake her up.
"You know, when I was a bail bonds person, there were weeks when I wouldn't wake up until noon. Forget the Evil Queen – being up at 4 in the morning is my enemy."
Dean chuckled, nodding his agreement as he took a large gulp of his own coffee. "Tell me about it. I'm not sure if Chicago is worth being awake this early."
"And we're sure it's Chicago?"
He nodded, "Bobby confirmed it this morning. He stayed up all night combing through the web. Chicago is about to be wiped off the map with the storm of the millennium, he says. It'll set off a chain of natural disasters," he took a deep breath. "Three million people will die."
Emma inhaled sharply, "Whoa."
"Yeah."
"Is it terrible of me that even though all those people are in trouble, I'm more worried about Henry," Emma said as Dean started up his Baby. "I don't like leaving him alone again. We just got back – and now we're leaving."
"It's only for a day," Dean reassured, driving through the empty streets of Storybrooke as they headed for the edge of town. "The way I drive, we can be there and back within 24 hours – throw in a few minutes for defeating a horseman and it's no sweat. Besides, Snow White and Prince Charming are on Henry watch."
Emma rubbed her eyes, trying to sooth the burn of being awake at this hour. "But what if this is some kind of trick. What if this Crowley guy goes after Henry again while we're away?"
"Already thought of that. Sam's going to go over there a little later and stay with him – he's got all the weapons to arm Henry and your parents against demons." He chuckled, "Besides, according to Sam, there's still a devil's trap underneath Mary Margaret's rug at the doorway."
She shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips as she thought about the look on her mother's face when she finds out that's there. They drove in a comfortable silence as they began to leave the sleeping town, both of their minds clouded with worrisome thoughts as they began their journey. Emma peered up at Dean, clearing her throat as she broke the silence. "So, what should I expect from this Crowley guy?"
Dean took a deep breath, obviously the thought of Emma having to meet the demon was enough to set his nerves on edge. "He's short and British and he's always got some kind of hidden agenda - so he's pretty much an all-around ass. He'll probably try to dig under your skin, so take most of what he says with a grain of salt. Pretty much, just pay as little attention to him as possible."
"Gotchya," she nodded, still not completely comfortable. Though, she reasoned you'd have to be crazy to ever be comfortable meeting a demon. Or a hunter, apparently.
They both watched the 'Leaving Storybrooke' sign as they passed it, continuing their drive until they reached the appropriate distance.
"This is where we met him last night," Dean said softly as he put the car in park right as the sun was beginning to ascend. Sitting on the front seat, they both began to look out the windows for any sign of him. "Where the hell is that son of a -" they both turned toward the front again, Crowley standing on the road with his hands in his coat pockets, as if he'd been waiting on them for hours.
Emma felt a mixture of apprehension and anger as she sized up the man - no, demon. Dean reached over and gripped her hand, squeezing it the way he did when he was trying to calm her. "Ready?"
She nodded, and they both began to step out of the Impala. Emma zipped up her red jacket as the chill began to get to her, then crossed her arms as she started to walk toward the front of the car next to Dean.
He stood a bit in front of her, a protective stance as he addressed him. "Alright, Crowley. We're here."
"Nice of you to show up, Squirrel," the demon smiled maliciously. He then turned toward Emma, giving her a slight bow of his head, "Lady Squirrel."
Emma's brow creased as she looked to Dean, "Squirrel?"
"Don't ask," Dean shook his head. "Come on, man. Are you gonna tell us where we need to go? Daylight's burnin'."
Crowley held up his hand, taking a step closer to them. "Not so fast. I'd like to take this moment and savor it. After all, it's not every day you get to meet a real life, fairy tale, magical Princess." He bowed deeply, "It is a pleasure to meet you, your majesty."
Emma rolled her eyes, "Can we just get this over with already before I punch you in the face for touching my kid?"
Crowley smiled, looking between her and Dean. He snickered, "I can see why you like her so much. All that fire - that passion. That raw instinct to hit things. You'll have to be careful which traits you pass along to the kiddies -"
"Alright," Dean interrupted, feeling a bit uncomfortable with Crowley talking about he and Emma's future children. "You were the one getting on to us about urgency, so let's get a move on."
Crowley smiled, "First things first. You need your weapon." He materialized an old, rusty looking scythe, handing it to Dean. "Death's own. Kills demons and angels and reapers and, rumor has it, the very thing itself."
Emma's brow creased as she reached out to touch the weapon as Dean turned it in his hands. "How did you get it?"
"I'm King of the Crossroads, Princess," Crowley said with a smug smile before he lifted his hand and snapped his fingers.
Emma blinked - and suddenly she was somewhere else. Crowley had transported her, Dean, the Impala, and himself to someplace that wasn't Storybrooke.
"Dammit Crowley," Dean huffed. "I hate it when you do that."
Emma shrugged, "Better mileage." She looked toward the nearest billboard and read it out loud, "Grimm's Pizzeria - Chicago's finest dish."
"Mmm, that's a good idea," Crowley hummed. "Let's stop for pizza."
Emma and Dean turned to him, "Are you kidding?"
"Just heard it was good, that's all," he replied, then nodded forward across the empty street. "Up ahead, big ugly building. Ground zero; horse's stable, if you will. He's in there."
Emma looked at Dean, who only stared at Crowley. His brow furrowed, "How do you know?"
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Have you met me? 'Cause I know." He began to look around, as if there were a crowd of people around them. "Also, the block is squirming with reapers. I'll be right back."
He disappeared.
Emma felt her heart begin to race a little, the anticipation of the fight growing.
"Boy, is my face red." Dean and Emma jumped at Crowley's voice behind them. He nodded toward the building. "Death's not in there."
He turned around and started to walk back toward the car. Emma and Dean shared a shocked expression.
"What the hell does he mean he's not in there?" Emma asked Dean.
He shook his head, turning back to Crowley, "You wanna cut the cute and get to the part where you tell us where he is?"
"Sorry," Crowley replied, shrugging as he continued to walk, "I don't know."
Emma stood in her place, too confused to follow Dean as he hustled after Crowley. "Whoa, whoa, whoa - wait a minute. You don't know?"
They stopped walking, Crowley turned back toward them. "Signs pointed. I-I'm just as shocked as you."
"Bobby sold his soul for this!" Dean yelled, taking a step closer.
Crowley sighed, "Relax. All deals are soul back or store credit. We'll catch Death in the next doomed city."
"Millions of people are going to die" Emma finally retorted.
"True," Crowley began to open the car door, "So, I strongly suggest we get out of here."
He crawled in the back seat, waiting for them to join him. When they finally did, they decided to drive into the town a little more. Dean finally stopped, pulling over. He sighed, "So, what? Call a bomb threat?"
Emma looked back at Crowley, who was looking out the window.
"A thousand bomb threats?" Dean continued. "I mean, how the hell are we supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next ten minutes?"
"Dean," Emma nudged his arm, turning his attention to the back seat. The empty back seat.
Dean groaned. "Come on."
They began to look out the window for him. Emma was the first to spot him, pointing toward the very same Pizzeria Emma had read on the billboard. And Crowley was peeking through one of the windows.
"What the hell," Dean mumbled as they watched him. Crowley turned toward them, pointing and saying something. Dean held up his hands, "What? We can't hear you -"
"I said I found him."
Emma jumped as he reappeared in the back seat. She still wasn't used to this materializing stuff - at least with magic, you got a little magic fog warning.
"Death," he continued, pointing toward which he came, "he's in there."
Dean and Emma looked between each other and the restaurant. He was the first to reach for the door, stepping out of the car as Emma followed suit. He looked back in the car, "You comin' or -" Crowley wasn't there. He sighed - really, by now, he shouldn't even be surprised. "Not."
"Let's just get this over with," Emma responded, looking over her shoulder as if she was waiting for him to reappear behind them.
Then he did something that really surprised her - he offered her his hand. It was almost involuntary - habitual even. But Emma took his hand, squeezing her fingers between his for reassurance as they started to walk across the street. She was getting nervous, "What do expect to happen here?"
Dean took a deep breath, one hand wrapped around Emma's, the other wrapped around the handle of the scythe. "Honestly, I wish I knew. But this isn't like a normal hunt."
That didn't make her feel any better. She swallowed hard, "I'm scared, Dean. Not of this horseman, but of dying and leaving Henry."
He squeezed her hand again, "I promise I will keep you safe, Emma. And I already told Crowley that if things get hairy, that he needs to get you out of here."
Emma scoffed, "Yeah, like being saved by Crowley makes me feel any better."
They approached the entrance of the restaurant, both getting into defense mode as Dean gingerly began to turn the nob. They both filed in, closing the door quietly behind him.
It was like the scene at the safe haven in the Enchanted Forest - every waitress, every customer, every body was heaved over... dead. They surveyed the room, only one person still upright.
Emma felt her heart race as she stared at the back of the man's head. A part of her knew; a part of her could sense the aura around him. That was no man. That was Death.
Dean signaled for her to stay back as he gripped the weapon, started to walk toward the horseman. A sizzle rattled through the air – Emma watched as the scythe in Dean's hand began to burn so hot it turned red.
The burning metal fell from his hands, crashing loudly on the floor.
Emma's mouth dropped; Dean turned, cringing at the noise as he turned to look at Emma.
"Thanks for returning that."
Dean looked down – the scythe was gone. Emma gestured with her eyes toward Death's table, pointing out how the weapon was now next to him. He gave her a 'what now?' look, Emma's mouth still hung open.
"Join me, Dean. Emma. The pizza's delicious."
Yay a new chapter! Thanks to everyone who has supported me over the last couple of months while I've been so busy and who has given me so many encouraging words. I appreciate every single one of them. To answer some general questions I've gotten in a few reviews:
How long will I take this story? Right now, I'm not sure. Like I've mentioned a few times, I've got a pretty big doc set up with an outline of this story. Right now, it's laid out until the middle of season 3 for Once, and the beginning of season 6 for Supernatural. To be completely honest, as long as I'm still interested in telling the story, I'm probably gonna continue writing. There isn't an end in sight for me, nor would I really know how to end it (haven't figured that out yet... yet).
What happens when magic and angel/demon power mix? According to my story's canon, they cancel out. Castiel's angel grace was already cut off from heaven because he rebelled, with little sprits of that power coming out kind of chaotically because of the magic that's messing with his mojo. The same would happen if a demon were to try and use their power against someone with magic. Now, I'd imagine there's variances between how powerful the magician is and how powerful the deity/demon is. Plus, it might depend on where the supernatural creature originates. Like Death, for instance. At least, that's what we've seen thus far - what the characters have experienced. We haven't seen an archangel go against any magical creatures or the magic in general, so we'll have to wait and see if it still applies with them! *hint hint - wink wink*
What's going on with Rumple/Hook/Castiel/Belle? Will the Rumple vs Castiel situation ever be handled? I haven't forgotten about them! Their story will be expanded on in a few chapters. A couple of big things are coming up soon *wink wink* and they'll be featured after that.
Why didn't Dean believe in magic at the beginning of the story, after everything he's already been through? The reviewer mentioned that by season 5 he should have experience with everything, even Angels which he didn't believe in. The way I was thinking, and the way I was trying to make it in the beginning, was that yes Dean had a lot of experience fighting monsters and that kind of stuff. But, in his mind, there's a difference between "supernatural" and "magic". For example, the witches he's used to, they pray to demons and the Devil and get their power that way, sacrificing animals and doing all those gross things Dean hates so much. Enchanted Forest witches don't do any of that. Magic is different - it's taught or inherited, and they don't have to do any of that supernatural weird stuff. Dean also didn't believe in fairies or unicorns - and since season 5 of Supernatural, they've both been featured and we've seen that they're different than the ones we see on Once. Basically, Dean believes that everything supernatural comes from somewhere or someone - whether that be God or the Devil or Eve. He knows there's a heaven and a hell, but other realms where magic is normal and fairy tales are real people? Yeah, I think it's safe to say that was a little out of his belief system before he came to Storybrooke.
Do you not like certain characters because of the way you portray them? I pretty much enjoy all of the characters from both shows. Yes, there are some I love more than others, and some that I really don't like all that much. If you got the impression that I don't like certain characters because of the way I portray them in this story (like August for example), know that I'm just retelling a story that's already been told. And if I believe that a character isn't going to like or get along with another character (like Dean with August), then that's how I'm going to write it. Doesn't mean I dislike August (I actually liked him a whole lot in season 1, not so much in the flashbacks of season 2). Same goes for a few other characters (and just to warn you, Dean isn't going to like Neal... if you thought it would go any differently, I'm not sure what to tell you friends lol). Basically, I try to keep my writing as unbiased as I can. But if I portray something some way, that's how I'm gonna write it.
And also, as a side note. Don't get me wrong, I love getting reviews (especially nice or encouraging ones or people telling me what they liked). But if you're reviewing a chapter from the beginning, complaining about something I've written or the direction I took the story - OR if you're asking me a question about something that's happening in chapter 30, or complaining because it's getting dull - I don't know what you expect from me, nor do I know how to respond or take it.
