About this 'verse

When I saw Sam sneaking out behind a dumpster to drink demon blood, I said aloud "oh...he's an addict." And, dealing with a loved one with addiction, it completely seized me. I love the show as a whole, and I suppose I long for a family as loving and open as the one I've attempted to create below, trying to base it completely off ( Read more... )

As the field has evolved, the concept of the family is more commonly defined in terms of strongly supportive, long-term roles and relationships between people who may or may not be related by blood or marriage. Family therapy has been used effectively in the full range of human dilemmas; there is no category of relationship or psychological problem ( Read more... )

Dean was running down a long hall. White tile under his feet, yellow walls swiping past his vision. Running and running, hearing Sammy cry and cry. He’d promised. He’d sworn nothing bad was ever ever ever ever going to happen to that dumb kid.

Dean. Dean. Dean, c’mon.

Trying, Sammy. I’m trying, I’m running, I’m-

He couldn’t. The harder he ran, ( Read more... )

Gabe takes them to a Champagne brunch to kick off their Sunday.
And sure, lots of people had bubbly brunches. But this one cost almost a thousand dollars for the two of them. Gabe didn’t even blink when he dropped the check. Cas did. All he could think was--that's fifty co-pays for Sam's Valium, a month of Dean's share of the mortgage, eight ( Read more... )

“I don’t understand why you felt I shouldn’t hear about this,” Dean roared.

Following Sam’s confession of his services to Fitzgerald McCloud-the details of which he’d only vaguely been able to obtain from either of the Winchesters-Sam’s private session with Missouri had been turned into the family therapy of old by a furious and confrontational ( Read more... )

 

Four weeks Dean drank himself unconscious every night. He'd told his little brother never to come back and, as far as he seemed to be concerned, his brother had washed his hands of him.

Apparently, without Sam, Dean could find no reason to maintain a working liver.

Night after night, Cas had sat up until early morning, ensuring his boyfriend ( Read more... )

Dean couldn't sleep. He'd wanted to, told himself he was overreacting, that Sam was just being his overdramatic self and nothing was wrong.

But goddammit, something was wrong. He had vague memories of a little Sam insisting they say "I love you," before they'd fallen asleep, but he'd outgrown it ( Read more... )

                Saying goodbye to Missouri was very different from saying goodbye to Bobby.

Instead of hugs, Missouri gave each of them brown paper bags with sandwiches, fruit, and slices of pie. Like Bobby, she felt compelled to give advice, but in lieu of the dire and all-too-familiar warning of watch out for Sammy, she snapped ( Read more... )

Winchesters, Dean decided, don't grocery shop.

At least, this Winchester didn't grocery shop. So far, Dean had hit a meat-locker, two refrigerators, and a geriatric with an unbelievably loud mouth, all because of the stupid, unwieldy shopping cart. Granted, he'd also been trying to check his cell each time ( Read more... )