Tuesday
Heat of the moment….
Your eyes shot open…unwillingly. From your spot on the couch, you had a perfect view of Dean tying his boots, while Sam matched your confused expression. "Rise and shine, gang!" You closed your eyes again.
"Dude. Asia."
"Dean."
"C'mon, you love this song and you know it."
Heat of the moment!
The volume increased, officially hitting your last nerve. Without a word, you grabbed the boot next to the couch and catapulted it straight at Dean. It hit his shoulder and got his attention. "Turn it off." You managed to mutter. He grimaced to himself; some comment about Sleeping Beauty, but still lowered the song. It took you less than five minutes to return to sleep.
A loud rustling near you had stirred you a bit, recognizing it as Dean searching through his bag. You peaked an eye open just as Dean held up the bra you had discarded earlier that morning. You were about to chastise him when he turned to Sam, "This yours? Ha!" One bitch face from Sam later and he turned back to you. "Speaking of, Y/N/N, you going to breakfast?" You just rolled over in response. "Y/N/N? No? Ok, I'll bring you back some bacon." You rolled your eyes, but fell back asleep quickly as they left.
After an extra hour, you decided it was time to work, and met the boys outside the local diner, hoodied up. You didn't have the patience for uncomfortable material.
You were waiting for the boys outside the Diner. The glass door opened and out walked a white haired man. You stood to the side, making room for him to exit when Sam stalked out the door behind him, concealing a weapon of some sort. "Hey, what the—" He walked right passed you unfazed. Guess that's what I get for missing breakfast. Dean met up with you then and gestured for you to follow. You shrugged.
Sam caught up with the man from earlier and shoved him against a fence. "Hey!"
"I know who you are. Or should I say 'what'?"
"Oh, my god. Please, don't kill me." You were utterly confused to say the least. Sam had figured out the perp just in the time between waking up and breakfast? Dean seemed just as shocked, "Uh, Sam…"
"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it."
"What?"
"It's your M.O. that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just deserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?" After a quick process of elimination, you deduced that you were dealing with a Trickster. I've never seen one up close…
"Yeah, sure. Okay. Just put the stake down." Dean looked to you to confirm if this was really the guy. For the first time…you didn't know. His body language and speech pattern indicated he was telling the truth, but your gut was throwing sirens. All you could do was shrug at Dean. "Sam, maybe you should – "
"No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing – making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops. In fact, you'd pretty much have to be a God. You'd have to be a Trickster." You'd celebrate the victory of guessing right, but you were still pretty stuck on what your internal alarms were telling you. What is off about you?
"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman. My wife's name's Amelia. I got two kids. For crying out loud, I sell Ad space!"
"Don't lie to me! I know what you are!" Sam's yells had turned guttural. "We've killed one of your kind before!" You blinked and wished you hadn't. Before your eyes, the white haired man morphed into a young brunette, weasely looking fellow. Sam was spot on.
"Actually, Bucko, you didn't." Dean stood aghast and you deduced it was most likely the same creature from before. They didn't finish the job…
"Why are you doing this?"
"You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?" You wanted to put the personal vendettas to the side, so you interfered, "And what about Hasselback?" He looked to you for the first time, a gleam in his eye that made you less than comfortable. "That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." He laughed. It was good data for your vault. It doesn't need to be personal for Tricksters. It's all about entertainment. "Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town." Sam responded, "So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?" You whipped your head to Sam, then to Dean. That mental image was not pleasant. You refocused. "One – yes, it is fun, and two – this is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die everyday. Forever." Sammy's rage boiled over. "You son of a bitch."
"How long will it take you to realize you can't save your brother. None of you can…no matter what." Why's a trickster involved in Demon affairs? What does he care? "Oh, yeah? I kill you, this all ends now." He applied pressure to the stake. "Oh, hey! Whoa. Okay. Okay. Look. I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up, it'll be Wednesday. I swear."
"You're lying."
"If I am, you know where to find me – having pancakes at the Diner." Dean rolled his eyes and looked between everyone. You guys aren't seriously thinking of letting him go? He already got away last time, finish the damn job or I will. Luckily, your worry was for not, as Sam spoke, "No. Easier to just kill you."
"Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that." With a snap of his fingers, your eyelids opened back on the couch.