Dean's Not Fine

Fading Away, Chapter 2 A Supernatural story by Axy @Aaaahhhxy 48 hours earlier Jimmy was wrong. This didn’t feel like being chained to a comet. If it were, it would be much, much easier. Instead, it probably felt like being at the center of the molecular equivalent of a permanent big bang. The pain alone was on a level even he, Dean Winchester, the man who had died over a hundred times, never knew before. Every nerve, every joint, every inch of flesh was on fire all the time. Michael wasn’t benevolent with his newly found vessel, and nothing was spared to the hunter. He felt everything, and yet, wasn’t in control of anything, and it was driving him insane. He was locked in a dark corner of his own mind, and had known little to no relief from the moment that son of a bitch of a thief broke their deal. But what other choice had he had? Even if he suffered for eternity, it was worth it. Knowing that they’d ended that bastard, that he’d relieved his brother of the...

Fading Away, Chapter 1 A Supernatural story by Axy @Aaaahhhxy Texts in the middle of the night are never good omens. Sam’s phone vibrated twice on the nightstand before it woke him up. He grabbed it without being really aware of his movements. A reflex. As if he permanently lived on a strange, unsafe edge, waiting for Dean to call him at any time of the day or night. It led to a few disappointments, though, when all Sam had received over the past few days were, at best, possible sightings of his brother coming in from hunters around the country, and at worst, yet another one of those weird, random messages from cable companies asking whether he wanted to subscribe to HBO. If only they knew that the bunker’s outdated system was, actually, innovative enough to allow them to get about every channel on the planet free of charge… This time, though, the text sent at 3:04 left little to no doubt about its nature. “Coordinates,” Sam whispered to himself. His mind drifted aw...

Art by Autia at DeviantArt. Visit their gallery here . Refugees A Supernatural story by Jennie @DeanIsntFine , @CallMeClarence and @jacklovesnougat The angel sat with his back against the rough, pockmarked plaster wall, head up, eyes to the night sky. Keeping watch for Russian warplanes over this bombed-out shell of a city in Syria. Castiel had spent the long day doing what he could, healing the injured children -- just enough to not draw undue attention -- and trying to put a smile on their battered and blank faces. Life under siege was no life for a child. He’d showed up at the refugee center and pitched right in, no questions asked, no explanations given. None were needed. These humans were stripped to their basest layer -- survival -- and any hope, even from a stranger in a trenchcoat, was welcome. And Cas had much to atone for. His conscience still ached over what he’d done to Donatello, and from the sting of Dean’s rebuke. It felt like the brain-dead prophet sa...

Art by Blakravell at DeviantArt. Visit their gallery here . Jam Session A Supernatural story by Jennie @DeanIsntFine Well, it wasn't bacon. But it was always going to be something, wasn't it? And sooner rather than later. He'd had a good run. No use crying about it now. As Dean nursed a lukewarm PBR at the bar in Harvelle's, he thought, all in all, he was happy to be there. There were far worse places to be spending eternity. The roadhouse was quiet now... and smelled exactly the same. Dean smiled a wry smile and took another sip of beer. He heard the bell over the door ring, and in walked Chuck -- worn jeans, Converses and a raglan T. Dean raised his can in greeting. "Chuck! Love what you've done with the place." Chuck regarded him with a sad smile and slid onto the stool next to Dean's. "How you holding up, Dean?" Dean looked sidelong at God and laughed, admittedly a little angry, with a side of bitter. ...