Haunted (Dean Winchester x Original Character)

CHAPTER 6

There are two types of hunters in the world. Those who research, then act, and those who act, and ask questions later. Sometimes I can't help but see me and Scott reflected in Sam and Dean. Sam and Scott are incredibly alike; always thinking, questioning the why, the who, the how before planning their next move. I'm more like Dean, I shoot the gun, place the bullet and case solved. But Scott— he insisted on the bigger picture, on the people we were saving, and how we should always make sure the victims don't go through anything like that again. That once the pain and grief are over, a monster is not going to come back into their lives to bite them in the ass again. And it took me years to understand that, long after he was gone, and I started hunting on my own. The bullet is going to end up in the skull of a monster anyway, there's no arguing in that, but we as hunters need to make sure the bullet we shot, stays there. And give the victims some closure.

But Dean, well, Dean saw things the way I used to. And I don't blame him, not one bit, but his judgment was in all shades of wrong.

The next day was a blur. I was still very emotional about my fight with Dean, and Cas came around to add more drama to the mix. He spilled the beans, officially, about the reason why there were demons on my back. And Dean all he wanted to do was kill Crowley right away. And I knew better than letting him. 



"That won't be enough," I argued, crossing my arms to my chest and walking around the studio as I spoke.

"No, but it's a damn start!" I could sense he was angry, but maybe the reason wasn't the same as me. Sam sighed, clearly on my side, and sick and tired of Dean's stubbornness.

"We kill Crowley, and the next asshole that takes the throne will still want her head too. We need to dig deeper, research if—"



"The hell with research!" Dean exclaimed, throwing his arms into the air. "All we ever do is research and where has it taken us, huh?"



"Look, I'm mad too. Probably more than you are." I growled back. "I'm sick of being here in lockdown while you guys have cases flooding above your heads. I'm a hunter too, I should be out there. But I'm smart enough to lay low, and not shoot the messenger just because that might solve the problem temporarily. I don't work well with odds. If someone needs to be checked out, I want to be 100% sure that's going to take me out of this mess. And that it's not your call to make, Dean."



"There's more..." Cas interrupted. His voice was weathered and deep, his stare unblinking and I shivered at the intensity of it because, a part of me, didn't want to know what he was going to say next. "Scott is still alive."



For a moment I couldn't breathe. I shook my head, partly because it sounded insane but mostly because I didn't want to believe it.

"I burned his body, you're telling me that asshole profaned my brother's grave?" My gaze was sharp on the angel. On everyone, really but they wouldn't dare to answer me. Castiel silence only confirmed it.

"Why would Crowley want Scott alive? I thought—" Sam spoke up.



"Leah's and Scott's blood mixed with the right amount of angel grace can create a powerful creature. I believe he's making a killing machine out of your brother."



I scoffed, "fuck." 

I opened my mouth, but I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what else to say. All I wanted to do was either cry in my room all night or get out there and kill every demon that would cross my path.


"I need to find him," I said with determination, walking towards my room, heading to grab my keys and jacket.



"Whoa, hey, let's think this through, okay?" Dean protested. "That thing, whatever it is, is not your brother anymore. And if Crowley is looking for you to do the same thing, you can't go near him."