From The Mind Of Jemma Winchester

When I Was Your Age

OKAY. LISTEN UP. FOR THE SAKE OF THIS CHAPTER THAT I WROTE WAY BEFORE 11X10, WE'RE JUST GONNA PRETEND THAT THING HASN'T HAPPENED YET. YOU KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. THAT BIG THING THAT HAPPENED AT THE END OF THE EPISODE. but no spoilers tho.

Synopsis: Cas accidentally sends Jemma back to 1993, where she stumbles out of a closet and into the motel room of younger Sam, Dean, and John Winchester, who are hunting a demon.

TW: broken bones + a semi-graphic decription of them

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"I'm sorry. I don't know why this keeps happening," Cas apologizes again. Ten seconds ago, he blew out all of the lights. And by "blew out" I mean they exploded. Ever since the other angels had a hold on Cas' mind, his powers have been frizzing. Just yesterday, he accidentally teleported himself to Russia.

"It's okay, Cas," Dad says and kneels to sweep the lightbulb shards into his hand. "It'll wear off."

"Yeah," I say and sweep some of the shards into a dustpan with a broom. When I look back up, my mother is leaning against the wall. I swallow and try to ignore her.

"You can't ignore me, Jemma," she says, pushing herself off the wall and casually walking to where I am standing. "You let me in. I can make your life a living hell."

"You mean like you did when you were alive?" I mutter under my breath and glare at her. She scoffs, then my cheek stings as she slaps me across the face.

"Jemma? You okay?" Dad asks. I brush my fingers across my cheek where my mother slapped me.

"Yeah," I reply and continue to brush lightbulb shards into the dustpan.

"What happened to your cheek?" Cas questions, tilting his head.

"You can see the mark?"

Dad stands and examines my cheek. "What the hell just happened to it? Is that from a hallucination?" I nod. "They're getting more serious, aren't they?" Another nod.

"I'll heal it," Cas states and steps toward me. He trips over the dustpan and starts to fall. Before Dad can catch him, he collides with me, sending me flying into the wall--

And straight through it.

I continue flying backwards through darkness. I twist myself around, the wind whipping my hair. "What the hell?" I shout, the wind carrying my words away. The wind gets knocked out of my lungs as I crash into a solid surface, then the next thing I know, I'm sliding across a floor. I breathe hard for a few seconds, trying not to inhale the dust coating the dirty, rotten hardwood floor.

Legs shaking, I stand slowly, only to find two young boys--one looks to be about my age--and who I assume is their father pointing guns at me. The man looks familiar, like I've seen him before. "Wait, wait, wait. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm friendly," I say, still trying to catch my breath.

"You just came flying through our closet door; I highly doubt you're nothing short of a monster," the man says, stepping toward me.

"I'm not a monster. I'm from the future." The three glance at each other, confused. "I can prove I'm not a monster. Do you have any holy water?"

"What kind of game are you playing, girl?" The man pulls out a silver knife.

"Give her a chance, Dad," the youngest boy pipes up.

"Sam, be quiet," the man scolds him.

Sam?

Realization strikes me. The man--I've seen him in pictures. He's John Winchester: Dad and Sam's father. My grandfather. That means the young boy is Sam, and the other boy who hasn't said anything is Dad.