Note: This chapter has been edited from it's original form for compliance with the M rating on FanFiction. For the full, MA version of this chapter please visit this same story on Archive of Our Own. The story title and chapter title are the same. The author name is DeepLittleSOB. The link to my Dashboard is in my profile. This chapter has been very much shortened this time.

"So that's the deal," Lou explains while all adults sit around the living room during naptime. Lou has her computer on and some articles and police reports printed out. As Sam reads through the reports Dean's eyes scan the screen filled with stories being reported all over the world of odd disappearances.

"Well, you're definitely onto something," Dean comments, sitting back on the couch next to his brother and looking to Lou. "Only question is… what does this have to do with Kevin."

"Maybe nothing," Lou admits fully, not looking to lie. "But if it's big and demonic, I say it could have something to do with him. Or at least it'll have something to do with Crowley,"

"And if Crowley's up to something big after being on Kevin's ass for a year… then it might be a lead," Lizzy adds in, agreeing with her sister.

"It's flimsy," Dean comments as Sam sits back also, leaving the pages he was reading through on the coffee table.

"But it's the first something we've had in a month or more," Sam rebuts as he thinks it all over. "People, even a kid, all disappearing with big omens like this? It all reeks of Crowley. Kevin or not, it still needs to be looked into."

Dean looks back to the screen at the face of Aaron Webber. That little boy was taken and most likely is in the hands of demons. When he looks at Aaron all he can see is Sammy. Someone has to go out there and try to find him. "Alright. Who do we call to get on this?"

"Actually, I was thinking no one," Lou speaks up. Both brothers look to her with surprised faces. "Lizzy's a better bartender than all of us. She can cover the bar for me while Sam and I head out."

Sam thinks for all of a half of a second before he nods. "Sounds good."

"Yeah?" Lou smiles a little, excited to have him on board so easily.

"Yeah. I mean, this kid was taken from his family. I can't… I can't image that," Sam vaguely says, making it clear he's also thinking of Sammy when he looks at Aaron. "Someone needs to at least look into it."

"I feel the same. We can head out first thing tomorrow morning. I'll set shit up tonight at the bar and make sure to hand over all the research I still had to do," Lou says, looking at her sister.

"I can handle that," Lizzy promises.

"Okay," Lou smiles and nods before clapping her hands together with excitement. "Alright. Get to bring my girl out."

"Uh, no," Sam shakes his head immediately.

"What!?" Lou gets offended immediately at the diss to her car.

"I can't fit into that thing!" Sam reminds her, voice getting almost whiny. "My legs alone…"

"Put the seat back."

"It's all the way back already!"

"But… she's my car. That's what I take hunting."

"We could just take the Impala…."

"Hell no!" Dean immediately denies and at the same time Lou speaks up.

"No fucking way!"

"Baby is staying here," Dean comments. "I was gonna replace the carburetor this weekend anyways."

"And my car is what I bring hunting," Lou reminds. "That's just how I roll."

"How you roll?" Sam repeats to make fun.

"Yup," Lou stands her ground, not embarrassed. "How I fucking roll."

"But I'm packed like a sardine in that thing," Sam keeps trying. "The last time we left we were gone for over a week and my back was killing me."

"Sure that wasn't from something else, honey," Lou winks, trying to joke off the very shitty idea.

"I'm sure," Sam answers in a surly way. "That car wasn't made for people over six feet. Just this one time… can't we take the Impala and leave the Mustang here? It'll be in good hands. Only Dean will drive her."

"Hey!" Lizzy takes offence.

"Well, you do kinda suck sometimes… at driving," Dean quietly says to his wife under his breath. She reaches across the gap between her chair and the couch to punch his arm.

Lou sighs as she stands up with arms crossed, glaring at Sam for making her have to even consider this. "My car has all the good weapons in it right now."

"And we can move them. Plus, Baby's got a false bottom. It's safer if we get pulled over," Sam reminds her as Dean looks at him with wide eyes. Baby. Sam never calls her that. Sam's really trying here.

"I don't wanna bring the Impala," Lou plainly states when no other words will form.

"Don't be a poor sport about," Sam gets frustrated.

"Poor sport? Because I like my own car?"

"Because you won't stop being stubborn about your own car," Sam tells her. "I don't understand you people and you're sick obsessions with your cars."

"Hey! What do you mean you people?" Dean asks, trying to lighten it up.

"Shut up," Lou immediately says to him.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam spits at the very same time, still looking at Lou. "Seriously. Who do you love more… that car or me?"

Lou glares at her husband with the fair case he makes. She hates it.

"Plus, who can you trust more than Dean with your car?" Sam tries yet again.

"Myself," Lou answers the no-brainer without hesitation.

Sam hangs his head with frustration.

"Let me think about it, okay?" Lou asks of him with stubbornness, knowing she has to compromise. "I hate it but you make some alright points."

"Thank you," Sam exasperatedly comes back with.

"Whatever," Lou grumps while a small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. She'd do anything for him and he knows it. It annoys her but it makes her stupidly happy too.

"Take tonight to think about it," Sam says with some hope, knowing how it will probably work out.

"And I'm putting Sammy down tonight," Lou points at Dean and Lizzy, the fight over that easily. "We could be gone a while."

"No argument here," Dean says easily.

"Good," Lou nods once and starts packing up the research they've done. "I'm heading to the bar then. Lizzy, come with me and we'll get you set for the week. Then I'll come back early and get Sammy to sleep, then pack and we'll be off in the morning."

"Aye, aye," Sam salutes to her jokingly as he stands up, seeing it's all handled. "I'm taking a shower then."

They both leave the room together and Dean and Lizzy sit there in the now quiet area that had been about to explode in a fight just moments before.

"They're so… efficient." Lizzy makes a face of dislike at Dean.

"Even their arguments get solved quickly these days," Dean comments right back. "So weird, right?"

"Super weird," Lizzy laughs. "That's how they've been lately?"

"Yeah," Dean huffs with his own surprise.

"Well, shit. When we fight it's nothing like that."

"No way."

"Our fights… someone's either getting punched in the face…."

"Usually me," Dean cuts in sullenly.

"Or fucked hard," she finishes her thought.

Dean smirks. "Usually me."

"Ha-ha," Lizzy caustically says and rolls her eyes. "It's just… they're so good together."

"They really are," Dean admits begrudgingly.

"It's weird."

"So weird," Dean nods, agreeing completely.

"And Lou's so different," Lizzy awes. "Never thought I'd see that."

"It's a whole new world," Dean flatly jokes.

"I feel like we should be learning from them," Lizzy huffs a laugh.

"No way," Dean denies the thought right off. "We're fine."

"We are fine, aren't we?" Lizzy smiles small at him.

"Damn fine," Dean tells her as he stands up. "And we have laundry to fold."

Lizzy's smile goes full wattage. "How fucking domestic."

"We do mommy's song now?" Sammy asks, pajamas on as he sits on his uncle's lap in his racecar bed. He looks to Lou with hope as she sits on a chair in the room with her guitar in her lap.

"Okay, but this is the last one," Lou reminds him. She's made a routine with him. Sammy has to be ready for sleep and in bed before they sing any songs at all. And once they do, the last song every night is mommy's song. It makes him understand that, no matter what, it's time to sleep once that particular song is done.

"I know," Sammy agrees easily, his little green eyes glued to her. He looks straight upwards to look at his uncle. "You sing too?"

"No one wants to hear that, kiddo," Sam assures him, his arm around the boy as he sits on Sam's outstretched legs. The car bed isn't all that big, his adult feet hanging off the end, but he deals with it. There's nowhere else he'd rather be in the world right now.

"You sing bad?" Sammy asks him.

"Very bad," Sam laughs a little.

"Daddy say I sing bad but I tell him he sing bad," Sammy explains easily.

"Good boy," Lou tells him. "Your daddy does sing bad."

"So bad," Sam laughs in return.

Sammy follows and giggles too. "Daddy sing bad."

Lou and Sam both get a kick out of the taboo Sammy plays with in calling his dad out. He knows it's wrong, and so do they, but it's funny nonetheless.

"Well, I like your singing," Lou assures the kid as she gets ready to play, placing her fingers properly. "You ready?"

"Ready!"

Lou starts playing the familiar song. When Lizzy was gone she started playing this for Sammy every night she could, even before he could talk. He's grown up with it, it's part of the soundtrack of his life, and someday Lou will let him know why it's so important to his mother and to him.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," Lou starts, having sung this very song so many times before.

"Take dees broken wing an' learn to flyyyyy!" Sammy sings along with her, nodding his head to the beat created by Lou.

"All your life," they sing together. "You were only waiting for this moment to arrive."

Sam just sits and smiles as they sing. No, Sammy's voice isn't anything impressive at his age. He does have two very terrible voices as his parents so maybe there was no escaping it. But just like Dean, he loves to sing. And Lou nurtures it. She's made sure he shouldn't care about if he's on key or not. Belt it out and be happy. Maybe Lou turned out to be more like her hippie mother than she ever thought.

But that's what Sammy does. He belts it out and he looks happy as hell.

"Black-bird flyyyyyy," Sammy sings along and Sam and he leans side to side with the beat. Sam pulls his little arms out to the sides and pretends he's flying. The younger boy giggles hard at the silliness as Lou continues.

"Black-bird fly. Into the light of the dark black night."

Sammy and Sam sit and sway to the song with ease and listen to Lou play. Over the year she's had time to reconnect with her guitar and her skills never left her. Singing, playing, and creating music… it's in her bones at this point. And with a household of shit singers, tone deaf at best, it's a pleasant change when Lou uses her talents around there.

When the break in the music comes and Lou lets her guitar go silent for a moment, Sammy grins wide and makes tweeting bird sounds. Lou then keeps playing and finishes the song.

"You were only waiting for this moment to arise," Lou sings and Sammy follows right along. "You were only waiting for this moment to arise. You were only waiting for this moment to arise."

"She's not too bad at that, is she?" Sam asks his nephew, ducking his head to look at Sammy in the eye.

"Yeah," Sammy answers, looking right back. "We do more?"

"Nice try but no," Sam grins and picks Sammy up to get off the bed. He drops him back onto the mattress and pulls the blankets back for him. "You know the drill. Mommy's song and then bedtime."

"Aw…."

"No complaining, crazy man," Lou laughs at him. "You sleep tight."

"No bed bugs bite," Sammy answer back as he lays down and grabs his teddy bear like always. "I say bye in the mornin'?"

Lou swallows hard at the idea. "Yeah, kiddo. We'll wait for you to be awake before we go."

"You promise?"

"We promise," Sam assures as he ducks down to kiss Sammy on top of his head. "Goodnight, Sammy."

"Night, Uncle Sam," Sammy tells him.

Then it's Lou's turn. "Night, crazy." She kisses his cheek and he kisses her cheek right back.

"Night, Auntie Louie," Sammy says and lays back down. When they leave they make sure to keep the nightlight on and the door partially cracked, just like Sammy has it every night.

"He's so fucking easy," Lou whispers to Sam once they're in the hallway. "I'm gonna go pack."

"I'll just check in with Dean before doing the same."

"Okay," Lou nods once and disappears into their bedroom.

Sam heads downstairs to the kitchen where he finds Lizzy and Dean sitting out on the back patio, each with a glass of whiskey in hand. He opens the sliding door and smiles at them. "Thought you were cutting down on the drinking?"

"When Sammy's awake," Dean stipulates and takes a sip, grinning.

"Ah, right," Sam nods and smiles. "We're gonna pack up and get some sleep. We promised Sammy we'd wait until he's awake to leave."

"He'll really appreciate that, Uncle Sam," Lizzy nods, making sure that it's clear how much her boy loves his family.

"Can't leave without saying bye to him," Sam shrugs it off, not having thought twice about sticking around until Sammy's awake tomorrow.

"He go down alright?" Dean checks in.

"Like always." He turns to Lizzy. "You all set with the bar?"

"I think I can handle slinging beers for a few," Lizzy promises to him.

"Alright. Well… goodnight guys." Sam waves and walks back inside, shutting the sliding door behind him.

Lizzy hums contentedly as she leans back in her lounge chair in the dark backyard, only lit up by some citronella candles. "What the hell happened here?"

"What do you mean?" Dean asks, concerned with the way she asks.

"All of this… it's surreal still," she explains. "We're having a drink on a fucking patio in our backyard… of our house. Our son is asleep happily upstairs. We're… we're people."

"You weren't a person before?" Dean jokes a little.

"No," Lizzy laughs. "I was a figment of civilians' imaginations. I popped up, saved the day sometimes, and then disappeared into the fringes of society. That's not living."

"No. It's not," Dean easily agree. "But hey, we're living now, baby." He tips his drink up to her and she smiles.

"We are," she nods. "It's just… weird still."

"I get that," he assures her. "Every time I have a little kid call me daddy I get a feeling like this was never supposed to happen to me. Doesn't feel real."

Lizzy smiles sweetly at her man for that. "He's freaking awesome."

"We did alright, momma," Dean grins proudly and sips his whiskey, looking out into the night sky.

"We did great," she corrects. "Or… you did."

He sighs. "It was just one year of two. You're in there, L. You have a lot to do with how he turned out."

She stays quiet.

"Look at me," Dean calls to her when clearly doesn't believe that. When her still sad eyes find his he speaks the truth as he sees it. "Everything I did for him while you were gone I did by playing the what-the-hell-would-Lizzy-do game. I learned everything I know about parenting from watching your ass through his first year. Here or not, you raised that kid."

Her smile is still sad. "That's really sweet of you to say."

"I know, right?" he smirks.

"And it's all bullshit. You're a natural. You raised Sam. You knew how this worked."

"I raised Sam on crap food and a crappier attitude. Probably why he was such a little shit as a kid," Dean huffs a laugh. "Sammy… I was totally different with him."

"You were an adult when you raised Sammy."

"Exactly… but I was an adult that didn't know what I was doing. And I hadn't been around enough before it was just him and me. I swear, L… everything I did was because I thought it was what you'd do."

And her smile brightens to something genuine. "Well, whatever it was between you and me, he's a fucking great kid."

"No kidding," Dean nods, still a little surprised. "I was terrified he'd be like me in some not so great ways."

"Same here," Lizzy comments. "Luckily he doesn't have my temper."

"Amen," Dean laughs at that. "I can't deal with another one of you."

"Ha-ha," Lizzy caustically bites back before sighing with pure love. "He's just a really sweet boy."

Dean nods slightly as he smiles to the stars. "Yeah…"

Sammy really is everything either of them ever wanted. And as they think about that very thought while sitting on the patio in their backyard behind their house… for at least this moment in time life is very, very good.

"Heads up," Lou says easily, tossing the pair of boxer briefs in her grip across the bed. Sam barely looks up and catches it before stuffing it into his packed duffle bag.

Lou standing on one side of the bed, Sam on the other, they efficiently finish packing at the same time. Zipping their bags closed, Sam seamlessly grabs them both and drops them by the door.

"Ready to go first thing," Sam tells her as he turns around to look at her standing by their bed. Their king sized bed. Sam finally has a bed that his feet won't hang off the end of.

"You think Lizzy's good to take the Roadhouse on for as long as we're gone?" Lou second guesses as she stands there, hands on her hips with obvious nervous body language. "I mean, I know she's bartended in the past but she never ran a place before."

"It'll be a week tops," Sam brushes the idea off as he pulls his t-shirt overhead and tosses it into the hamper in the corner.

"Yeah… but still. It's not like most bars," Lou admits her fears as she grabs the pad of paper and a pen she has on her nightstand to write down yet another thing on the list of things she needs to let Lizzy know before leaving tomorrow. "She needs to be a research queen while bartending and doing everything else."

"Lizzy knows everything we do," Sam reminds her, his jeans joining his t-shirt with the dirty laundry. "And she can handle some research in between pouring whiskey. She can do this. She's the most responsible person I know."

"Yeah," Lou barely responds, writing away on her list and paying him no attention.

Sam, standing there in his gray boxer briefs with disbelief that she's ignoring him while nearly naked, can't remember ever seeing her like this. "Lou?"

"Hmm?" she hardly hums as she thinks hard, rereading her list and making sure it's covering every little detail.

Last straw. Sam grasps the waist of his boxers and shoves them quickly down his legs, kicking out of them and staring at her with hands out to his side. "You done writing over there?"

"Soon," she tells him, writing one last inane detail onto the pad.

"I'm naked," he simple states to her.

"Yeah," Lou nods and doesn't look, too worried to focus on him.

"You don't put that down soon then I'm tying you to the bed," Sam warns her.

She keeps her eyes glued to the paper. "One more minute…."

"What the hell?" Sam mumbles under his breath and he walks back to their bags by the door. He pulls a pair of handcuffs from Lou's bag, the ones she always brings on hunts, and marches for her.

"The fuck are you doing?" Lou angrily asks as the pen and paper are ripped from her hands. Sam tosses them back onto the nightstand before picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. "Sam!?" she nearly shouts at him as she rebounds off the mattress a little. "Dude, I just needed to make sure…. Sam!"

He doesn't listen to her as he climbs onto top of her, a knee to each side of her hips as he quickly snatches up her hands and has her wrists cuffed to the slotted headboard before she could even bother fighting back.

Wide blue eyes locked up on him, Lou takes in everything happening. He's naked. Like, completely, not a single stitch of clothing on, naked. When did that happen? And when she pulls at her arms while watching the too focused man move over her with pure intent she realizes that she's immobile.

"Oh, come on," Lou complains with upset. Sam never really does this to her. She's usually attacking him and they worked well like that. This is a bit jarring and it's taking her off her game.

"You need to relax," Sam tells her in a calm, sure tone as his hands drifts down her small form, feeling her body through her clothing until he gets to her hips. He scoots back a little until he's straddling her thighs so that he has access to the button and zipper of her jeans. He opens them up as he tells her, "Everything's set. You don't need to worry like this."

She blinks once as he slides her clothing down her legs, underwear going with her pants. "You cuffed me to our bed because I wanted to make sure things run smoothly while we're gone?" She has a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"I needed to get your attention," Sam smiles a little as his rough hands take their time sliding up her smooth legs, crawling back up her form. "You were ignoring me."

"What are you, a puppy?" she asks, impatient with his tactics. She likes to be free to use her hands during sex. She's very good with her hands and not good at all with restraints being put on her. Sam knows this. "You gonna go take a leak on the carpet now?"

"No." Sam just smirks. "But I have your attention now, don't I?"

His large hands push the fabric of her t-shirt up, exposing her stomach an inch at a time. He peppers her skin with kisses as he works upward, bunching her shirt above her bra, and Lou simply sighs frustrated. "Yes. Now, uncuff me."

Hazel eyes peer down at her with a silent laugh as he reaches behind her back, wedging his hands between her and the mattress, and unhooks her bra. He pushes that up also, leaving her clothing up by her neck and getting her as nude as he can within her bound position.

"Sam," she uses her warning tone on him.

"Lou," he echoes the tone right back to her, making fun.

"Let me go," Lou demands of him with a very serious voice, making sure he knows she's isn't messing around. She means it.

"No," Sam denies all too easily as he lays down over her onto his elbows.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Sitting up against the headboard in her own bed down the short hallway, Lizzy looks up at her bedroom door when Lou's voice moans out particularly loudly. She exhales with it all, a sigh that's filled with frustration of their volume with a child in the house and combined with a little twinge of jealousy.

She then looks over to her husband, also sitting against the headboard next to her with one of Bobby's journals out and her headphones over his ears. He's nodding his head to the beat and tapping his feet crossed at the ankle under the covers while listening to Black Sabbath and he's completely oblivious what's happening just a few feet away. After they decided they were going to bed they shut their door and settled in, getting a head start on the workload Lou left them before sleep won out. When Lizzy said she could take the bar for her sister she has no idea it came with research for five different hunts.

Elbowing him in the side lightly, Dean's head whips over to her, catching her eye. Lizzy pantomimes for him to take off the headphones and he does, immediately making a disgruntled face when he's hearing what's happening in the house.

"Ugh. Seriously?" Dean asks her.

Lizzy just laughs.

"Why?"

"Why… are they having sex?" Lizzy doesn't understand.

"Why would you want me to hear that?" he gripes. "I prefer Ozzy."

Lizzy laughs a little. "Yeah, me too."

Dean just stares at her, wanting to know why she's made him have to listen to the sounds he truly wishes he never had to hear.

"Did you find anything on what's causing people to vanish in Minnesota?" she wonders, having had no luck on this particular case for an hour straight.

"Uh… probably," Dean tells her, flipping back to a marked page while glancing once at the door when Lou lets go of one particularly loud moan. He grimaces but keeps going. "Here's my best guess."

Dean points to a page in one of Bobby's old journals. Lizzy reads the entry quickly. "Really?"

"Makes sense, doesn't it," Dean shrugs a little, scratching at the stubble on his jaw a bit. "I mean, Bobby hunted something just like this in the Minnesota wilderness twenty years back. Said it was a Wendigo. Killed it with a torch he rigged up in some abandoned cabin out there. Who's to say one hasn't hibernated for this long and decided now was the time to wake up for some midnight snacks?"

Lizzy sighs. "Would explain the missing campers."

"And the fact that the few survivors there are have no description of the thing." He drops the journal and rubs his eyes. "Probably couldn't. They're too fast."

"Damn it," Lizzy complains, pulling out the info she was given by Lou on the case. She starts writing notes on what the creature probably is, what to look out for, to search and find it's lair for people still stashed there and alive, and how to kill it. "Rich isn't gonna be happy about this one."

"Who would be?" Dean tells her, placing the journal, still open to the page, onto the comforter by her side for her to reference. Dean then leans back against the headboard and watches her for a moment, trying to block out the noise from down the hall. Her hair is in a ponytail, loose piece falling around her face and her bangs practically blocking his view of her eyes. She has her lips pressed together as she concentrates and as his eyes drift lower over her shoulder and collar bone to the profile of her still perky breasts sans bra in a black tank top. Even now, a long day of household chores and running around with a very active child over with, she's stunning.

"Hey," Dean says and makes her look over to him. When her eyes connect with his, bright brown with a spark of something still young and happy despite being a very old 29 year old these days, his heart constrict a little. "You think you can put it away for the night?"

"After I finish writing this up," Lizzy nods.

"Good," Dean tells her and leans over to her, very lightly cupping her jaw to pull her closer. She grins lightly, knowing what he's up to, and falls right into it. He kisses her lips, something sweet and soft.

Lizzy's heart melts a little. It's been a few days since they've found time for this. Between Sammy, helping with the bar, searching for jobs, and keeping tabs on where Kevin might be they've found little time for them. They'd never complain, of course. Life is far better than ever before. But more time for them would be lovely.

Fuck me with that big dick! Sam! Fuck!

"No way," Lizzy immediately pulls away from her husband when Lou's voice is heard clearly.

"Yeah. Nope." Dean does the same and shakes his head. "Fuck this." He reaches for his headphones again.

Lizzy looks up at their bedroom door with worry. "You think they're gonna wake Sammy?"

"Never," Dean assures her. "That kid sleeps so hard. I've never seen it before."

"Probably because he's so active all the damn time," Lizzy points out, retaking her pen to finish writing what she needs to while hoping Sam and Lou will be done soon.

"Probably," Dean agrees and places the headphones over his ears again. He reaches for the lamp on his nightstand and clicks it off. He then turns to Lizzy and kisses her cheek. "Night."

"Goodnight," Lizzy responds, watching him slink down into the covers and rest his head on his pillow, settling in for the night. His bare back to her as finds his spot, Black Sabbath once more playing, Lizzy realizes she's done for the night right then. Screw the notes. She knows what a Wendigo is and she knows what to tell Rich tomorrow already.

Abandoning her notes on her own nightstand, Lizzy turns her lamp off and puts the room in darkness. She then sidles up to Dean's back for the night. She gets in close, drapes a leg between his, and hooks an arm around his middle. Exhaling once she's in that perfect spot, she kisses the back of his neck before pressing her nose to his hairline. He smells like shampoo. Not dirt. Not sweat. Not gunpowder or his leather jacket. Not decay or death. He smells like shampoo and nothing else.

Dean's fingers lace into hers at his chest and he grins to himself as he drifts off while Paranoid plays in his ears.

Author's Note: Okay, readers. Time for some honesty. I'm struggling with this story, I'm struggling with writing, and there are many reasons for that.

I have some very huge things happening in my life that are exciting and very time consuming. I'm distracted by the excitement completely and preparing for everything is taking me away from my work. Sorry kids, this story definitely comes second to my big life changes and I am well aware that you all are more than understanding of that! Which is why I love you guys and need to keep this going. But it's been difficult finding time to write and when I do actually find time I keep having the same problem: I'm running out of gas.

Maybe I've been writing the same series for too long. Maybe it's gotten a little stale for me. Maybe I've written myself into a corner and cannon doesn't exactly work within a story where the Winchesters are married and one of them has a fucking kid. Whatever it is, I am having issues with making the show work within my universe I've created, keeping to cannon in the way I've always wanted to, and including everything from the show plus my own twists to it. For example, it's getting boring writing about Benny. I know you all love him but there was no point to him. He dies anyways. I wrote him becasue the show did and now I keep having to interrupt my stories to include what happened to him. Ugh. I get stuck for days when I get to a point in my work where I'm forced to write out my version of inane stuff from the show.

I still have an overall plan for this series that would take it through the end of the show, that's hasn't changed and the beauty is that no matter how the show ends my idea will work. And I would love to get there. I'm just having a hard time making it through right now. Not sure what to do but I know I need to rediscover my motivation, the kind where I could write nonstop for a day with excitement and ideas. I haven't had a day like that in I can't remember how long. And my traffic and reviews are way down so when I'm doing all this work for a minimal audience it just further makes it all harder to push on.

Plus, I'm always a full story ahead. Like, for example, right now I should have the next story almost done and ready to be published by now since this current story is winding down. However, I have been battling just to finish this one story. It isn't even done yet! All I have is an idea for the next one. Yuck!

Overwhelmed. I don't want to abandon this series, not after all this time and hard work. But I'm tapped out. What the hell do I do, everyone? Anyone out there that also writes ever found themselves in a place like this? Did you dig your way out? How? I'm hoping for some lovely advice from my lovely readers that I refuse to quit on. I'm not a quitter. I'm just... tired, I guess.

Thank you all for letting me rant my face off. Any suggestions would be very much appreciated.