tigriswolf | various Supernatural unfinisheds, all AU (Reply)

AU before season 6.

An eternity spent in a box with his brother, and he can’t help wishing Dean had said yes.

Time passes. So much time passes. He and Michael talk and fight and argue and beat each other bloody and comfort each other and talk and fight, rinse and repeat, forever.

Sometimes, Michael and Lucifer let Adam and Sam talk to each other. Adam’s actually a really cool kid. Sam thinks they’d have gotten along, if they’d ever met before everything.

“Will we ever get out of here?” Adam asks.

“I don’t know,” Sam answers. “I doubt it.”

o0o

He’s not just Sam anymore. Lucifer saturates him, fills him, changes him from the inside out. He was created for Lucifer, and even if he gets out the pit, Lucifer will still be with him.

Adam finally burnt out a while ago now. Michael doesn’t have a body anymore. He’s still there, and Sam can see the beauty of him, and he hopes Adam’s at peace with his mom. He deserves that much.

Eons and millennia and finally finally the door opens again.

"Father,” Lucifer and Michael murmur, both kneels before him, heads bowed.

"Boys,” God says. “Sam.”

This would've been a season 4 AU.

“There’s a forgotten door,” Dean says quietly one night, sitting next to Sam on the Impala’s hood. “We could use it.”

“What?” Sam asks, nearly asleep.

Dean focuses on the brightest star, sending out a thought. When the star darkens for a moment, he knows the answer.

"Tomorrow,” Dean tells Sam, even though Sam is actually asleep now, “I’m taking you to Bobby’s. I can’t do what needs to be done if you’re there.”

Whenever Alistair’s eye wandered from Dean, Dean left the workroom. Not even Hell dampened his need to explore. The moment he felt Alistair seeking him out, Dean hurried back, ready to pick up the knife for his master.

It wasn’t very often that Alistair looked away from Dean. He felt no pride in that, or despair, or anger. It simply was the way of things, and his own fault—Alistair offered the knife. Dean hadn’t been forced to take it.

“What do you do, when out of my sight?” Alistair asked, twining around Dean, touching him in the deepest places. “Little pet, looking for a way out?”

Dean surrendered. “Just exploring my new home,” he replied softly.

Alistair sliced him to the core and Dean sighed in pleasure, relishing the pain.

This would've been a season 5 AU where Dean had already said yes to Michael but didn't know it.

“Hello, Dean,” Mommy says, which isn’t right, because Daddy said that Mommy is gone and not ever coming back, but she’s right there, crouched down next to him and smiling her happy Dean I love you forever and ever even if you spilled macaroni all over the kitchen, and you wanna help me make cookies? smile.

“Mommy?” he asks, scooting back and looking around for Daddy. Daddy will know if this is Mommy. She might be one of the scary things that Daddy said will hurt them.

“Dean, baby,” the Mommy-shaped thing says. “Calm down, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. I love you.” Her eyes are sad, with tears leaking out.

That’s not right. Mommy shouldn’t be sad. Mommy is sunshine and laughter and oven-warm cookies. So he says, “Don’t cry, Mommy. I’ll take care of you.”

“I know you will,” she says softly, and her hand is warm on his face, warm and real and there, and maybe Daddy is wrong, maybe she didn’t go away forever and ever, maybe she came back because he was so good, making sure Sammy ate and got changed and stayed safe all night long while Daddy had bad dreams. “You’re my good little man, Dean. You’re so strong and so brave.”

This would've been an AU from season 3 where Henriksen never died.

“My dad was a hero,” the kid says, green eyes flashing, and it’s like looking into the past. He’s shackled hand and foot, teeth bared, and he doesn’t answer any questions. All he says is, “Fuck you” and “My dad was a hero.”

Victor Henriksen wants to strangle him.

o0o

No one has heard from Dean Winchester in twelve years. Sam Winchester vanished, too. Then this punk-ass kid shows up, same MO, same eyes, same cocky words and cocksucking lips—yeah, he’s a Winchester, for damn sure.

He’s not as good as the long-missing, presumed dead brothers; he gets caught three months into his spree. He gets caught and tried and found guilty of being insane, so Victor watches him get put in a hospital and left there.

Victor’s the only one not surprised when the kid vanishes a week after being locked away. A Winchester, through-and-through. And Victor had been hoping to retire soon.

o0o

“My dad was a hero,” the kid says, like his father did the first time he and Victor ever spoke. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

This is the first time Victor’s interrogated him, after that disappearing act he pulled a year ago.

“Actually,” Victor counters, “your dad’s psychosis is well-documented. Apparently, it’s hereditary.”

The kid has the gall to smirk, something dangerous in his eyes. “You’re lucky that’s the only thing I inherited,” he says, “’sides my wit and good looks, of course.” He straightens from his slouch to add, “And for the record, sir, fuck you.”

o0o

Victor scours the kid’s history, his school records and hospital visits, notes his pediatrician kept, even his little league scores. Only child of single mom, living off her parents’ inheritance, normal childhood except for an instance when he was eight, when he and the neighborhood kids all seemed to have a similar breakdown. But it quickly passed.

Nothing to explain how he took up his dad’s insane crusade years after his father fell off the map.

I'm not sure where this was going.

Mary had always planned to name her first son Michael. But then Mom died and she wanted to honor her: Dean Jonathan, after Mom and John’s dad, and then Sammy, four years after, named for Dad.

They wouldn’t be hunters. She’d take care of everything, deal with Azazel when he came calling, and that’d be the end of it.

Except it wasn’t. Azazel came early and Mary wasn’t ready, and John took her place as a hunter, raising their sons as the same, and Mary couldn’t do a thing about it, locked away inside her house, so far from her babies.

Until she saw them, men grown tall and strong and beautiful, and she left the earthly plane for a heaven she’d never really believed in, despite what she told Dean the first four years of his life.

I shouldn’t be here, she said to the gatekeeper. I sold myself to a demon.

No, the gatekeeper—Saint Peter?—replied. You sold your son.

John arrived a little while later and found Mary where she’d settled next to her parents, all gazes turned towards the Earth and the events taking place there.

I'm pretty sure this was going to end with the boys evil and destroying the world together. Season 4 AU.

Let there be light, Anna whispered, arms wrapped around herself. That’s what You said, Father. Let there be light, and there was light, and it was good.

She shivered, glancing to the walls of her prison, barely able to see through swollen eyes and murky darkness. Let there be light, she repeated, barely a murmur. Then, louder, Let there be light!

Nothing. Just her voice echoing back and shadows. She closed her eyes, muffling her sobs in her folded arms, ignoring the way her ribs ached and her bones creaked. Let there be light, she wept. Let there be light.

There wasn’t. Not anymore.

o0o

Ruby paced, trapped in her meatsuit, three steps across, seven steps around, over and over and over again. She slammed her fists against the walls, kicked the bricks until her feet ached and her toes snapped, yelled her voice hoarse.

Nothing she did made a difference. No one came to taunt her or torture her, or to free her. There was no one left.

o0o

They’re not Cain and Abel, Johnny, Alistair purred in Hell, twisting the knife until John howled for mercy. Your boys, your precious sons, Mary’s shining triumph… Alistair cackled and John sobbed.

No, they’re not Cain and Abel. He petted John’s hair, trailed his finger along John’s side, down to John’s cock. You did good with them, my dear. So very good.

John’s tears were the most beautiful thing Alistair ever saw, until John’s firstborn made his way to the rack, knife in hand and coated with blood. John’s tears tasted like sin when Alistair licked them off his face. Like desecration and degradation, like broken skies.

Cain and Abel, Alistair mused, watching Dean work. Nope, not you, little Dean-pet. More like… hmm…

He smirked as the idea came to him. I’ve got a special gift for you, kiddo, he said, and led Dean to Judas Iscariot. Go to town, he told Dean. Make him suffer so prettily.

Preseries AU with feral!Winchesters.

She walked into the Roadhouse during a February snowstorm, a baby on her hip and another in her belly. She cased the joint with wary, weary eyes, and the man who came in behind her looked just as worn-down.

That was the first time anyone in the hunting world met the Winchesters. It sure as fuck wasn’t the last.

The deaths of Samuel and Deanna Campbell shook the hunting community. They had been major players, both from hunting families themselves, and that they went down—well.

And their daughter taking herself out of the game was a total blindside. She vanished not too long after the funeral, with her little civilian(as much of a civilian as a marine could ever be, anyway) and some of the old-timers shook their heads. Disrespectful, that girl, turning her back on what her parents had stood for.

So when she reappeared at the Roadhouse, the news made the rounds swiftly.

There was something feral about the Winchesters, even the little rugrat with floppy hair that peered out from behind John or Mary’s legs. Something wild in Mary’s eyes, something wild in the coiled tension of John’s shoulders. Whether it was remnants of the thing that got the Campbells or something new chasing them, no one knew, and quite a few asked.

But the Winchesters didn’t talk. They stopped in for a rest, for supplies, and went back out to the hunt.

And pretty soon, that baby in Mary’s belly joined them, and he was scarier than all the other three combined.

No one could hunt with the Winchesters. No one could keep up, or trusted any of those four at their backs. They’d take care of each other, no problem, but anybody else just didn’t matter. They’d as soon as shoot someone as step around them, and so the other hunters left them alone.

Season 5 with Tessa as Death on a pale horse.

Hello, Dean, she says quietly. The onyx ring on her finger glints in the moonlight. I’ve been waiting for you.

We defeated War, he says. And Famine.

She smiles. My brothers were young and foolish, she tells him, stepping in close. They should never have challenged you directly.

We saved your life, he mutters. Remember that?

Her smile broadens. I am Death, sweetheart. I can’t die. And only a part of me was there, those times we met before. But this… She raises her hand, gestures to the body. He has eyes only for her ring. This is all of me. What God locked away, in His fear and His pride.

Dean scoffs. You sound like Lucifer.

She nods. We were close, once. He was the brother most suited to me. When he began thinking of rebellion, I am the one he first spoke to, and I tried to dissuade him. I failed. She turns, glancing at the park around them. He will destroy all this, Dean. He hates your kind for all he is not, for all God gave you that he never received.

Tell me somethin’ I don’t know, he mutters. She smiles.