How do you think history will remember Hillary Clinton?
She is the first woman to be a major party nominee for President; one of just five Americans in history to lose a Presidential election despite winning the popular vote; had the highest margin of victory in the popular vote of any losing Presidential candidate; more voters cast their ballot for her than every other Presidential candidate in American history – winning or losing – besides Barack Obama. She’s also one of the most prominent Secretaries of State in American history and visited more countries than any other Secretary of State.
Hillary Clinton is also arguably the most influential First Lady in history. She’s the only First Lady to run for office and win elections in her own right. As a U.S. Senator from New York she was popular with her constituents and highly-respected on both sides of the aisle (yes, really) during her time in Congress. As First Lady she was President Clinton’s most valued adviser and political strategist. If not for what she brought to their partnership, it’s doubtful that Bill Clinton could have even won the 1992 election.
And, of course, she has an entire body of work in the first half of her life that was completely unrelated to who she was married to. Hillary was a powerful lawyer, talented political strategist, energetic activist, and a tireless advocate, particularly on behalf of children.
I don’t know for sure what the final judgment of Hillary Clinton’s legacy will be, but she’s undoubtedly one of the most important women in American history and one of the most prominent and influential political figures of the past half-century. Those who suggest that Hillary’s ultimate legacy will be as the person who lost the 2016 election and put Donald Trump in the White House are flat-out wrong. She was the person who stood strong against him in the midst of an unprecedented political storm, no matter what mistakes might have been made by her or her campaign during the 2016 election cycle. Hillary Clinton didn’t elect Donald Trump as the President of the United States; the American people did. Her legacy shouldn’t be tainted by the poor choices of the American electorate and the consequences of those choices. She should be remembered for the path that she blazed for those who followed her in public service.
Where do we go from here, Dean thought. How will we move on? Can we move on from this? After these tapes, how will he ever live knowing that they caused you so much pain. How can he keep going when these things are hitting him in the face with all the facts that everyone that ever cared about you, never paid attention to?
Dean had started tape 9 in the car on the way to the motel they were staying at. It wasn’t too far from the bunker, only a couple of hours. When he arrived at the motel, he took a seat on the bed and continued to listen. As your words flowed through his ears and impressed him, he thought about all of the pain the others had caused to you and he couldn’t relate to them; however, he understood what this one felt like. He knew what it was like to be betrayed like this, but even worse to know what you had done.
He finished the tape. He actually finished tape 9 without pausing it and was shocked that Ketch was even capable of what you had spoke of. He knew what people like Rowena and Crowley were able to do, but this was a low blow… Even for Ketch.
“Dean, come on,” Sam said as they were all leaving the motel room. “We’ve gotta go talk to the victims, it’ll bring us closer to the British Men of Letters.”
“Coming,” he replied with a nod. But all Dean heard was, It’ll bring us closer to killing Ketch.
* * *
It was a few weeks after Rowena had practised her magic on you and you were not coping well. You hadn’t left the bunker in those few weeks and hadn’t eaten or slept much. Your brothers constantly pressed you to tell them what happened that night or who was involved but you would just scream at them and go back to your room. You couldn’t tell anyone about it. Rowena could find out and she would make Crowley return Jody’s soul to hell. Who could you go to anyway, your brothers? Or John? Or even Mary?
You missed Mary. You really did love her like she was your own mom, but the thing was she didn’t love you like a daughter. She was kind to you in front of your brothers and John, luckily you didn’t get any time alone so she couldn’t be mean to you.
A light tapping at your door pulled you from your thoughts before you regretfully said, “come in.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” John spoke softly. “We’re all going on a family trip for a big hunt, we obviously want you to join us. You in?”
* * *
Dean remembered back when they first worked with the British Men of Letters and were forced to trust them. It was after they had tortured Sam into giving them information about American hunters. They would work on cases with Mick Davies usually because he was the only one that Dean actually trusted. Ketch and Toni were his problem mostly, but even back then they had to trust them even after everything they had done to Sam.
* * *
“I don’t know, dad,” you told him with a forced smile, he could see in your eyes how damaged you were. “I’m not really feeling it right now.”
“You haven’t felt like doing anything for a few weeks,” he spoke softly. “You wanna talk about it?” He asked you as he closed your bedroom door and sat at the end of your bed.
You shook your head; your eyes darted away from him because you knew you couldn’t look him in the eye and not tell the truth. “I’m okay.”
“Listen, I know that your life hasn’t been easy, sweetheart. Especially since you’ve met me, and my wife and your brothers.. I know that, I get that. I also get that you can’t forgive me yet, or maybe you never can and that’s okay. I understand,” John stressed. “But what’s not okay is you locking yourself away from us all and not talking to us when you need to. I know that you’re suffering, and you have to know that you can speak to me. You don’t trust me, but that’s gonna leave you worse off rather than better.”
You let your eyes look back up at your father. Of course you didn’t trust him, he left you. He sucked. You hated him and you didn’t know if you could ever forgive him, but right now he was all you had and he was saying everything you needed to hear. You started to think that maybe you could beat this… You would give life one last chance.
* * *
“Can you describe what these people looked like?” Mary asked the young woman who held a child close at her hip.
“There was a blonde woman, or ginger. Like, strawberry blonde. She wore a red blazer with a white blouse and a black skirt. She wasn’t actually doing anything. She didn’t-” she began but caught her breath as she looked down at her son who was only five years old and would now have to grow up without a father. She whispered the rest of her statement. “She didn’t hurt my husband, there was a group of men wearing black gear, with guns in their hands. They all wore masks apart from one man that spoke to the woman in the blazer… I think she called him Keith, or Catch? Something like that. Also, they had British accents.”
She described them perfectly, it was the Brits after all. Toni and Ketch were still in on it and trying to kill all of the monsters in the States. One secret that Dean regretted they had to keep from this woman was that her husband was turned into a vampire a few years after their son was born. He and Sam had heard of this vampire before, that’s how he knew why the Brits had taken care of him. He was an awful monster, really. But the way they handled it was terrible; they were killing the whole nest right in front of the leaders wife.
“I don’t know who the people with my husband were,” she told them. “He used to go out a lot. During the night, just before the sun rose, he would head out and say he was going somewhere and not come back until night again. I followed him once, he headed to a warehouse about 10 miles from here. I didn’t go inside, I was scared of what he could have been doing. I guess, whatever it was, it got him in trouble with the wrong people.”
“Thank you for your time,” John thanked as he pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to the woman. “If you remember anything else please don’t hesitate to call.”
They all stood around together, away from the woman they questioned, and talked about what she had said. “It has to be them, she described them perfectly!” Mary exclaimed.
“We can’t get too ahead of ourselves,” John reminded her, but Sam and Dean were with Mary on this one.
“Dad, come on,” Dean argued. “She said that a British woman called one of the men Keith or Catch, you can’t tell me that isn’t Ketch! And a red blazer? That’s got to be Toni.”
“Yeah, I don’t see it being anyone else,” Sam agreed. “If it was that would be too much of a coincidence. Like it was set up.”
“Yeah, set up,” John nodded. “That’s what I’m trying to say, Sam. I mean, come on, all of you! You really think Toni would be caught dead out here with those guys? You really think they would risk saying their names so loud that someone would hear them?!”
“So you think they’re setting us up?” Mary questioned.
“I think they’re trying to throw us off track,” John replied. “But that just leaves the question of, where are they?”
“Y/N would have had this figured out in no time,” Dean told them all. It was supposed to just be a thought, but the words escaped from his mouth. “She always was a smart kid.”
“Yeah, she was,” Sam agreed with a reminiscent smile. “I guess the four of us are gonna have to try and beat what Y/N could do on her own.”
“As if we would ever be able to pull of what she was able to pull off,” Mary added. “We need her.”
* * *
No one needs me, you thought. Why does no one need me? I wonder if anyone ever thinks to themselves, ‘I need her.’ No, of course they wouldn’t, so you scrapped the idea and packed your bag for this family road trip they had all planned.
Dean was driving with Sam next to him and you in the back seat. John and Mary had decided to take a different car they had got from Bobby’s at some point just so there was a little more room. Things were still awkward with your brothers because you refused to tell them what happened.
“How far is it?” You asked as Dean started to drive. “And who are these people?”
“You know how we’re all legacies? The American Men of Letters, these people are the legacies in Britain,” Sam finished.
“Wait a second,” you replied to your brothers, Dean kept his eyes on the road up the highway. “You can’t mean the British Men of Letters. You guys told me that they tortured Sam, or am I thinking of someone else?”
“Y/N-” Sam started to say.
“Oh my god,” you complained. “You have got to be kidding me. Working with the people that almost killed you?!”
“Our lives are complicated,” Dean told you sternly. “I know that is sucks and as much as we don’t want to work with them, it’s in our best interest to do so. I hate them, OK? Sam does too, we all do. But like I said, best interest and all that.”
“Well they can kiss my ass if they think I’m going to be nice to them,” you complained which earned a small chuckle from both of them. You were starting to act a little less angry and a little more, well, you. The you that they knew and loved, the one that’s happy. That’s how they wanted you to be because they hated the thought of you suffering.
“There’s one that’s not so bad, his names Mick,” Dean added. “Claire might have told you about him. She met him once.”
“Uh, actually, I haven’t spoken to her since what happened at Jody’s,” you reminded them. Great, another reminder that you had lied to their faces just a month ago. “But anyway, I’ll make my own judgements on these people. So far they haven’t got me happy, hurting my brother was a huge mistake.”
You saw Sam smile. A genuine smile that you only ever saw now and then. It wasn’t a very regular thing that happened but you loved when it did, the way the corners of his mouth would try to stay subtlety risen but he just couldn’t help himself. It was when you would show him love, you felt like he wasn’t appreciated enough and you showed him how much you adored him just by dropping small hints.
The rest of the car ride was silent, well, that is if you consider Dean singing, I’m sorry, screaming, along to every song on his AC/DC tape. Sam complained which only made Dean turn his music up even louder. The whole way there, he sung his heart out with the window wide open and it left you giggling in the back seat.
Once the whole thing was finished, Dean took the tape out of the player in his car. “You still have cassette tapes, you’re so lame,” you told him and Sam laughed to agree with you. “They’re pretty cool though, very vintage.”
“Yeah, you want some? I have a few blank tapes, you can put your own music on there,” Dean offered. “How many you gonna want?”
“I’ll let you know later,” you replied as Sam handed you the box full of tapes that Dean owned. “Boy oh boy, you have a lot of tapes.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty old,” Sam told you which earned a nudge in his side from Dean.
“Well, here we are,” Dean revealed. “This is gonna be fun.”
* * *
They were back at the motel and trying to figure out where the Brits were located. None of them thought the same way that you did, you had an open mind. They were always too focused on what the topic was.
“There’s gotta be some kind of sign. Why couldn’t they have just kept their base where it used to be and where we knew it was? I mean, we used to drive there, damn it. We drove there with Y/N once, why the hell did they have to move after that?!,” John complained as he paced back and forth. Mary sat at the table with a laptop in front of her, Sam and Dean both sat at the end of one of the two beds. “Seriously, how did Y/N used to figure this shit out so quickly?”
“She didn’t,” Dean interrupted. ‘She just didn’t focus too much on what was going on. She thought outside of it and it usually led us to what we were looking for in the first place.“
“Well like we have already said,” Mary added without breaking eye contact with her laptop screen, “Y/N was a smart kid, we could never do what she was able to do.”
“What if we forget about the Men of Letters base and where it is,” Sam suggested as if something had just clicked in his brain. John was about to get angry with him, but Sam continued to talk. “You know, what if we’re being watched and monitored? The Brits are smart like Y/N was… So they wouldn’t just let us roam free and wait until we figured out where they were. There must be someone from the British Men of Letters that’s somewhere near us, watching to see where we go.”
“That’s good,” John nodded as he finally stopped pacing across the room. “How do we find out though? And how do we know who it is?”
“I have a plan,” Sam told them, which caused Mary’s eyes to finally drift away from her screen so that they were all staring at Sam. “But you guys are gonna have to trust me, ok?”
* * *
When you first walked in, it instantly sent shivers down your spine. Just the look of this place made you feel uneasy, it all seemed so robotic and set up. Hunting wasn’t supposed to be like that, it was supposed to happen in the moment. Direct, physical fighting wasn’t something you would plan for because you would have no idea how the other people was going to react to your fists coming towards their face. You wouldn’t know if their reflexes were fast enough to block your punch.
“Winchesters,” you heard a man with brown hair say. “It’s good to see you again, I see you’ve brought someone new along with you.”
“Y/N, this is Mick Davies,” Sam told you. “Mick, this is Y/N. Our sister.”
“Oh, yes, Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you!” He exclaimed. “Claire has told me so much.”
“What?” You questioned. “Claire talked about me?”
“Yeah, it was while Sam and Dean were out and we were trying to find something positive for her to focus on. The first thing she brought up was you,” he revealed as if it was nothing. Wow, Claire still cared about you even after everything you had both been through. So why did she still do what she did? Why did she lie to your brothers and Jody about Gabriel? That didn’t seem like someone that cared about you, it seemed like someone who wanted you because they didn’t have you anymore.
“Mick,” another British man said from behind him. “You’re needed by Toni, she said she wants to speak to you about something from a few weeks ago. She said you had a lead on something and she’s found out more.”
“Ah, yes!” Mick replied as his head whipped around to look at this other guy. “I remember, I’ll go and see what she’s got. I’ll see you all later,” he told your family before walking off so the other guy took his place.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he smiled creepily as he put his hand out to shake yours. You didn’t put yours out to shake back, he just stood there stupidly with his hand in front of him for a moment before he pulled it back and sighed. “You must be a Winchester.”
“You must be Ketch,” you assumed. You had heard about him before, you condemned him for the things that he and Toni had done to hurt Sam. Not only that, but they captured Dean for a while too and even tried to turn Sam crazy. “I have a lot of things to say to you.”
“Ketch,” Dean nodded awkwardly. “This is our sister, Y/N. She’s joining us today in whatever you’ve got for us.”
“How delightful,” Ketch said happily, but you could tell it was sarcasm. You simply rolled your eyes at his words and crossed your arms over your chest. “Let’s not forget, fighting isn’t the only skill you need to be able to work these cases. It takes precision and the ability to work things out. In simple terms, you have to be smart.”
He walked and you all followed him to a room that was full of TV screens on the wall and one keyboard on a desk. “We’re plenty smart, thank you.”
“You seem a little young, Y/N,” Ketch told you as he put up a case for each of you on one of the screens. “I’m giving you all a case each, maybe you should take the easiest one.”
“I want that one,” you said as you pointed to the screen that said, Johnny Lurche. Species: as yet unidentifiable.
“Fine,” Ketch said. “You can have that one, If you can figure out what he is from the facts that we’ve given you.”
He pressed something on his keyboard that made all of the facts on Johnny Lurche show on the screen. “Done,” you said after just scanning your eyes over the screen. “He’s a witch.”
“A witch?” He questioned. “How could you possibly-”
“The smell of sulphur and the feeling of a chill suggests two different monsters. This would have been created as a diversion so that any hunter would believe it was either a ghost or a demon. However, that means this monster would have to be smart, so we already know it’s not a werewolf or a vampire. We know it’s not a vampire anyway because he’s not in a large pack, it’s the same with the werewolf. And if you look at Johnny you can see that he looks human so we can rule out a lot of monsters such as Banshee’s, Pontianak’s and Wendigo’s. Also, the bottom of the results you have back say that in his house, where he was assumed to have killed his wife, there was a small bag with a red symbol on it and it contained bones. It’s called a hex bag, it’s what witches use. So maybe before you start calling me stupid, you should do your damn research.”
Silence. Complete, utter silence. Not a single word came from that mans mouth, and you could almost feel how proud Mary, John, Sam and Dean were from what you had just expressed. You smiled sweetly, but of course, it was sarcasm.
“I’ll be right back,” Ketch sneered before he walked out of the room and left you all to choose which case you wanted to take.
“Nice work, Y/N,” Sam chuckled as Ketch left. “You sure proved him wrong.”
“Well, I know my stuff,” you replied without taking your eyes off the screen about Johnny. The real reason you had gotten so good was because of what happened with your dad back before your mother died. The way he made you feel because you didn’t know anything drove you to make sure you did your homework on monsters. You knew everything there was to know and you had to prove that to every hunter around you.
It was a little annoying to you all that you had to go off for separate cases, but you didn’t really have a choice. A different member of the British Men of Letters worked with each of you for the case you had chosen. In a very unfortunate event, Ketch had ended up being in charge of the case you had chosen. Fantastic, you thought, I get to spend more time with this asshole that likes to put me down and expect the worst from me.
You didn’t see your family for the rest of that day, you spent it in a car with Ketch on the way to the house of Johnny Lurche.
* * *
Dean walked into the bar that they knew they would be followed to. Trust me, Sam had told him, and of course he did. Sam’s his brother, he had to trust him. But you trusted Ketch and look where that got you. Ketch betrayed you. Sam would never do something like that, but the word ‘trust’ was very strange to Dean at the moment. Regardless, he believed in his brother, and he walked into the bar.
* * *
“I must say, Y/N,” Ketch said from the drivers seat with you riding shot gun, “I was very impressed by your quick work today. I was extremely embarrassed that you had showed me up like that so I left the room, but I was still impressed.”
“Thanks,” you replied. “I guess I’ve just got a knack for it.”
“You sure do,” he agreed. “That’s why I wanted to ask you something. I know how you’ll feel about the question but I want you to really consider it.”
“What dude? Are you gonna ask me to marry you?” You joked with annoyance in your voice.
“I want you to leave your family,” he revealed. You were about to protest… ‘But why would I do that?’ You would have asked, but he spoke before you could. “I want you to work for me. For us… The British Men of Letters.”
* * *
He held his beer bottle in his hand and looked down at the bar. His barstool was extremely uncomfortable but he had to act normal. He noticed a small woman sit close to him, she ordered a drink and spoke in a quiet, British accent. She must have been who was watching them. Dean placed his phone down on the counter in front of him and stared at it. He noticed the woman in the corner of his eye, she was trying to be subtle about the fact that she was watching him.
He continued to watch it like he was waiting for a phone call that would change his life. “Come on, call me back!” He complained loud enough for the woman to here. “Sammy, man, I’ve called you 25 times, call me back,” Dean once again spoke to himself.
He went to pick up the phone to call his brother, but just as he was about to the phone started ringing. He held the phone far away from his eyes like he couldn’t read the screen unless it was at a distance. But really he moved it away so that the woman had a chance to look at it. When she looked over she noticed the name on the screen said, ‘Sammy.’ She knew exactly who Sam was, one of the four Winchester’s that she had to look out for.
* * *
“That’s ridiculous,” you complained. “How could you even ask me something like that? You don’t know me!”
“We know more than you think. We know a lot about you, Y/N. We know about how you grew up with your mother, not your father. We know that as soon as you met him you were forced to become a hunter, then you found out that your mother was dead,” he revealed.
You gasped at his words. “How the hell do you know all of that?” You growled.
“Because that’s what our organisation does. We know things about every hunter in America because we have to be smart,” he revealed. He was getting agitated because you wouldn’t even consider his offer. “We need people like you on our team.”
“No,” you simply said. If only he would have just taken no for an answer.
“Y/N.” He was going to try and persuade you, and you didn’t want to hear it. You had already said no and he had to respect that. But he was an asshole, so you had to scream at him for him to even take in what you were saying.
“I said no, for fuck sake!” You screamed. “No. No. No! Don’t ask me again, you hurt my brother. You let Sam get tortured by your fucking organisation, I will not work with you. The only reason I’m here now is because of my family.”
Ketch seemed to be more angry than before, but his breathing had evened out which, to you, was much more scary. “Fine. That’s fine. You stick with the family that doesn’t love you.”
He was wrong, they did love you. Remember Y/N, you thought, you have to give life one more chance.
* * *
“Sam?” He questioned abruptly. “Sam, where the hell are you? I’ve called you so many times, you haven’t returned any of my-”
“Sir,” a man spoke on the other side of the phone. Dean made sure that his speaker was on even though the phone was next to his ear, just to be sure that the woman next to him could hear the phone call. “This is Agent Wildon. I’m here at the scene of a car accident, this is the phone found in the car.”
“What car? Is it-” he started to speak and his voice was shaking. “Is it a 1967 Chevy Impala?”
“That’s correct, sir,” the man on the other line replied. What this woman had no idea of was that the man on the other line was actually Bobby Singer. They had called him up to ask him for help in tricking these people. Bobby always loved you very much, just like he loved the boys, as if you were his own child. He hadn’t known you as long as he’d known Sam and Dean but he loved you no matter what. You meant a lot to him and if this was going to help your family kill the people that had hurt you at some point in your life, Bobby was more than happy to help. “We’re unable to tell the identity the bodies, but there seems to be two males and one female, two of them around the age of-”
“Wait a second,” Dean interrupted. “Bodies? You mean… They’re dead?” He gulped as he waited for a reply.
“I’m very sorry,” Bobby replied. “They were killed instantly after they collided with a truck on the highway.”
Dean froze and didn’t speak. She had to have been buying this, he heard her gasp a few times, she even pulled out her phone and started typing rapidly. The small woman must have been reporting back to the Brits.
“Sir?” Bobby asked, “are you still there?”
Dean hung up the phone, his mouth wide open and tears streaming from his eyes. He was told to fake cry, but it wasn’t hard for him to cry when he thought about tape 9 and how hurt you must have been. “Are you ok?” She asked in a fake, tacky American accent. He knew she was British because he heard her order her drink, even if she did do it quietly.
He looked at her and closed his mouth before wiping his tears away. “I uh… That was an Agent at a crime scene. He just told me… He told me,” he stuttered with more tears falling down his face. “My whole family are dead.”
“All of them?” She asked unsympathetically. “What were their names? How many were there?”
“Mary was one, she’s my mom. And John, my dad… And my little brother, Sammy,” he told her. He went a little cold even having to pretend that they were dead, but he had to trust Sam. This was going to work out how they wanted it to. “You know, I lost my sister a while ago too. She was only 18.”
“You had a sister?” She asked in surprise. They must have not told her about you, just about them. “What was her name?”
“Y/N,” he smiled as he spoke about you. “She was… God, she was fantastic. And I mean, she really was a great person. She was so, driven, and kind. She had her moments, I mean, come on! She was an 18 year old girl trying to figure stuff out. But over all, she was such a sweet person. When I lost her, I lost a part of me, too,” he told her. This was all true, this wasn’t part of Sam’s plan. “I miss her, so so much. Before she was gone I couldn’t have imagined life without her, now I’m forced to live it and I-” he couldn’t get the words out. “I just.. I don’t-” again, the words were just stuck.
“I’m very sorry,” she said truthfully this time. Tears has begun to surface in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall.
“Living without her is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” he finally said. “She- she killed herself. She was so unhappy with her life that she actually ended it. If she would have just talked to me I would have done whatever it took to fix it. I would have helped her so she could keep on living. Suicide shouldn’t be an option… It should never be an option.”
He had no idea why he was opening up to this woman. Maybe he just had to finally let these words out, regardless of who he was talking to. But as he looked at her, she reminded him a little bit of you. The way she sat and listened to what he had to say. The way she actually felt emotional for him because she didn’t want him to hurt, even though she didn’t really know him. That’s the kind of compassion you had and this world didn’t deserve you, but you deserved the world.
“I’m gonna get going,” he told her. “I uh… Thank you, for talking to me, and listening to me speak about Y/N. I know you don’t know me-”
“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head and smiled. “You take care of yourself.”
Dean walked out of the bar, he cleared the tears from his eyes after opening up about you. He had felt that way for a long time but never told anyone about it. The only reason he did talk to someone was because you never did and it’s what he wanted you to do… He knew that it’s what you would have wanted him to do. You wouldn’t have wanted him to suffer the same way that you had to.
* * *
The car journey seemed prolonged after you screamed at Ketch. You hated the man and weren’t going to act like you were okay with working with him. This was your families decision and you were with them.
Just as you drove up to Johnny’s house, Ketch kept the car moving. “Hey, you missed the house.”
“That’s not his house,” Ketch told you. “Remember? It’s number 130 not 30.”
“Right,” you nodded. I must have got it wrong, you thought.
“Look, I’m sorry about what I said,” Ketch revealed which surprised you. “I didn’t mean to get too angry, I just wanted you to work for us. Maybe one day you can look past what we did to your brother.”
“Whatever,” you scoffed. His apology wasn’t sincere. You knew he was up to something but you had no idea what, maybe he was going to force you to work for them somehow. He might have been apologising so that you would trust him and tell him something that he could blackmail you with later. It wasn’t going to work, no matter what his trick was. He may have been smart, but you were smarter.
“Here we are,” he said as he parked a little down the road from house 130. It was dark outside but the numbers on the houses were visible under the street lights. “You know what you’re doing?”
“Of course I know what I’m doing,” you snapped back as you took your gun out of your pocket. You checked again to see if the witch killing bullets were in place. “He lives alone right? Well, since his wife died.”
“He does, yes,” Ketch told you. “Are you sure you can handle this?” He wasn’t asking to be nice, he was asking to be a smug asshole.
“I’ve handled worse,” you smiled back sinisterly. “Wait for me here, I won’t be long.”
You stepped out of the car and shut the door quietly. If you were in Dean’s car, the door would have been creaking and his engine roaring, probably waking the entire neighbourhood. You had this, all you had to do was get in, kill him and get out. Simple, right?
* * *
Dean walked back to the motel from the bar. It wasn’t too much of a walk, but having the car around could have blown their cover because Dean told the woman that his family were in a car crash. The second he walked through the door he asked Sam what it was that he had to trust him with. Sam ignored his brother, he just continued to type away on his laptop with wide eyes. “Sammy?!” Dean demanded.
“Shh,” Sam replied harshly. Once again his hands were moving quickly while he concentrated on the screen in front of his eyes. “I’ve almost got it.”
“Got what?” Dean asked but was once again ignored. He just waited until Sam was done.
“Yes!” Sam cheered. “I did it, I actually did it.”
“Did what?” It was John is time that demanded an answer.
“Because Dean was on his phone at the same time as the person working for the British Men of Letters, I was able to pick up a signal from her phone and hack into it,” he revealed. “I wasn’t sure if it was going to work but it was all I had.”
“So what can you do now that you’ve hacked it?” Mary questioned from across the table. “And why did Dean have to act like we were dead?”
“I told you guys. I have a plan and you have to trust me,” he said as he started fiddling with the key board. “I can read her text messages and if Dean did it right, it should work out how I’d wanted it to.”
“Who are the texts between?” Dean asked.
“Her and Ketch,” Sam revealed. He turned the screen around so that they could all read the texts between Ketch and the woman, who’s name was revealed as Andrea.
Andrea: I followed Dean to a bar. He was on the phone and found out that his family are dead. That’s Mary, John and Sam. I thought he may have been lying but he cried a lot and talked about his sister, Y/N. Did you know who she was? You never mentioned her.
Mr Ketch: All of them are dead? Are you sure it wasn’t a trick, Andrea? And yes, we knew her. She was trouble, that girl. You don’t have to worry about her, she’s gone now. Good riddance, too.
Andrea: He couldn’t have lied, you didn’t see the look on his face. And I even overheard the person on the other line, it wasn’t him pretending to be on the phone. What do I do now?
Mr Ketch: Stay in the bar. Me and Toni are on our way, then we will find the bodies to dispose of them, and then we will kill Dean Winchester. See you soon.
They all finished reading the texts around the same time. Dean took a step back and steadied his breathing so that he wouldn’t cry again. He didn’t want his family to know that he had a moment of weakness and opened up about you to a complete stranger. He didn’t want them to know that he was hurting, but it was better for them to know rather than him be alone.
“My plan worked,” Sam said as he pulled the screen back to him. “Ketch and Toni will come here alone and look for Dean. They’ll think that he’s alone and vulnerable and easy to take on. That’s when we hit them hard, it’s not exactly finding the whole of the British Men of Letters but it’s a start. It’s what Y/N would have done.”
* * *
You quietly approached the front door and realised it was locked so you headed around the back of the house. Once again, the door was locked. You didn’t know why a man who lived alone, lived in such a large house. You could tell by the amount of windows that it was a three bedroom house. Why did one man need so much room? Maybe it was for his witchy stuff. Maybe, one room was for sleeping, one to keep his potions and ingredients and then the other for actual magic practising.
You stopped wondering and focused your mind back on the task. You had a job to do and you couldn’t allow yourself to get distracted.
The kitchen window was open slightly; you were just about able to slip your hand in and open the latch so you could push the window in fully. Once it was opened, you gripped your hands on to either side and pulled yourself up until you were nicely placed on the kitchen counter.
You climbed down from the kitchen counter and shut the window. You quietly made your way to the front door and unlocked it so that you had a quick escape rout. If Johnny knew you were here and tried to fight you first, the neighbours could easily hear you fighting and call the police. At least with the door unlocked you could just run downstairs, get out and jump into Ketch’s car.
A creaking sound came from the floorboards as you made your way up the stairs. You had to stay as quiet as you could, or he would hear you and it would be harder for you to kill him.
Hunting was such a normal thing to you now. To you it just sounded like killing. Why was killing so natural now? It should never be something normal for a person to do. After all the lives of monsters you had taken, you always wondered where they went afterwards. Hell? Purgatory? Or, did their ghost still linger because they had unfinished business?
A noise suddenly came from the bathroom; once again you were pulled from your thoughts and remembered that you couldn’t keep losing focus while you were on a hunt.
With your gun raised and in position, you carefully stepped towards the bathroom. The noise was a tap running, he must have been brushing his teeth or washing his face. You were quick to kick the door open and see him, standing there in front of you. The bullet flew from your gun and through his head, before you could even realise your mistake. By then… It was already too late.
* * *
Sam, John and Mary all had different places they were going to hide. Two inside the motel, and one outside to watch every movement of Toni and Ketch. John was inside the closet, Mary behind the bathroom door and Sam just outside of the motel, watching from inside of a car he borrowed from Bobby’s shop.
“Before I go-” Sam whispered to Dean as he noticed John and Mary talking about killing Toni and Ketch, “-I just wanted to tell you that I’m here for you, man. I know that you miss her, I do too. You haven’t admitted how much it’s affected you, and it’s okay.”
Dean nodded at his brother. “Same with you, I don’t want either of us to bottle things up so much like Y/N did. I can’t let anyone else hurt themselves the same way that she did, or have the same outcome. And I don’t just mean you,” Dean continued. “I mean, everyone we see everyday. We have no clue what people are going through, if someone had seen Y/N and knew what she was feeling they would have said something, you know? They would have, I don’t know, at least tried to convince her to not do it. They would prove to her how worth it life is. I want to show that to as many people as I can, but I don’t know how.”
Sam gave Dean a reassuring smile. “We’ll do the best that we can.”
“It’s not enough,” Dean replied. “It’s not enough, it isn’t. I don’t want anyone to kill themselves… I never want anyone to do that.”
“Neither do I,” Sam agreed. “And if we can save at least one person, that’ll be good enough. It’s what Y/N would have wanted. She’d be proud of us, you know? I’m sure of it… She would have wanted to do the same thing. We know the signs now, because before we didn’t pay attention to Y/N’s signs,” he admitted. Dean sighed but he knew his brother was telling the truth. “I know that you want her back, Dean. I know that you wish we could go back and stop her from doing it, and I’m sorry. I wish we could, too… But it’s too late. All we can do now is learn from it.”
“You should probably go and watch from the car,” Dean told him as he wiped a single tear away from his cheek. “They’ll be here soon.”
He couldn’t stand to talk about it anymore. He had never really thought about how much pain it can cause people when a person commits suicide. Dean had lost a lot of people in his life, but this felt different. You went because you wanted to and it physically pained him in the chest. It was as if he could really feel his heart breaking.
Dean watched from behind the closed door to see when Toni and Ketch showed up. He was covered in the parking lot and inside the motel so it should go okay… At least that’s what he had hoped.
* * *
Maybe you were mistaken. Maybe Johnny had died his hair from bright blond to dark brown. Maybe he had changed his eye colour and gotten those three, fading tattoos. Oh, how naïve could you be. It was obvious what had happened here, Ketch did this on purpose. He made you kill an innocent man.
You were right, Johnny lived at house number 30, not 130. How could you have been fooled? Also, why? Why would Ketch do this?
The only thing that could have made this worse happened. There was a noise from another door. You looked up to see a small boy standing there, he couldn’t see his dead father inside the bathroom. “Who are you?”
“What’s going on out here, babe?” A tired woman asked her husband. But he would never reply again, he would never answer again. He would never hold his child or his wife, not ever again. Then she saw you, and she saw her son. She panicked. She grabbed her son and held him close, the tiredness of her body leaving in seconds. “Take whatever you want, please don’t hurt us!” She begged as she noticed your gun.
“No, no you don’t understand!” You cried, hot tears streaming down your face. “I- I’m an agent. I was sent here… I was sent to the wrong house!” You cried as you tried to explain, and the woman saw the blood flooding the floor under your feet. “I’m so sorry,” was all you could say before you ran away and heard her scream her husbands name. Nathan, that was his name. Nathan, the poor man, would never see the light of day again. He was gone, and it was because of you.
You killed him… You hurt his wife like John had hurt you. You hurt his son just like Crowley had hurt you. You damaged them just like everyone that you had ever met had done to you but this time you weren’t the one that was broken. You were the one who destroyed, and that was when you knew that it was too late to save yourself. You knew what you had to do in order to stop people from getting hurt, but you needed to leave something behind to tell people why. If you were going to be gone it was time that everyone knew the truth.
* * *
It didn’t take long for Ketch and Toni to arrive. Sam watched intently from the car, his gun was lined up with Ketch’s head incase he tried to make a move to hurt Dean. They weren’t sure what they would do, they didn’t know if they would break in and try to kill Dean instantly or surprise him by going through the window.
They knocked at the door, and Dean opened it quickly as if he had no idea who it was. He stared at them, Ketch’s face looked very punchable, and Toni’s wasn’t too far from it either. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Dean growled.
“We’re here to talk about Y/N,” Ketch told him. “May we?” He asked as he gestured to walking into the motel room.
Dean let them, he actually let them. “Dean, what the hell are you doing?” Sam whispered to himself from the car. He wouldn’t be able to shoot them now, he would have to depend on John and Mary to shoot from inside.
“Are you really here about Y/N?” Dean asked. “Or are you here about my whole family being dead?”
“You don’t think we believed that for a second, do you?” Toni asked with laughter in her voice. What a bitch, what a god awful woman. “Andrea may be stupid, but we’ve been trained for years, Dean. We’re guessing you thought you could draw us out here and kill us. We saw Sam in the car.”
Dean sighed at her words, which resulted in Mary and John walking out and pointing their guns towards Ketch and Toni. “Now, we didn’t come here to kill you,” Ketch said, “we really did come here to talk about Y/N.”
“Y/N hated you,” Dean growled. “After what you did to her, Ketch.”
“It wasn’t just him, it was the whole organisation. We sent her out on that hunt to kill that witch,” Toni snapped.
“You didn’t tell her, did you?” Dean asked as he stepped forward. Don’t do it Dean, Mary thought, you’re just going to get yourself killed. “You were too scared of your tape because you didn’t want your organisation to find out about what you did to Y/N.”
“That’s why I’m here to talk about Y/N,” Ketch admitted. “I want that tape destroyed, Dean.”
“Tape? What tape?” Toni demanded. “What do these tapes have to do with Y/N? I thought we were here to kill the Winchesters.”
“Why did you bring her if you don’t want anyone to know about the tapes?” Mary questioned. “If she finds out she’ll tell the rest of them.”
“Hm,” Ketch nodded with a smile. “I guess you’re right, she will snitch on me, won’t she? I guess I’ll have to stop her myself.” Insanity took over Ketch, these tapes ruined him almost as much as they had ruined Dean and he didn’t even know you that well. He pulled out his gun and shot Toni in the head like it was nothing.
* * *
Her screams were so loud, they were heard all over the neighbourhood. As soon as that door was flung open, you raced to Ketch’s car, but before you could climb in he started driving off. “Hey, no no no!” You cried. “Hey!” You screamed violently. “Come back!”
You were running out of time. The only option now was to run back through the house and climb out of the kitchen window. As much as it killed you to think, you knew that the woman was too scared of you to try and stop you from escaping. All she wanted to was protect her son from the monster that had broken into their house and killed her husband.
You jumped through the bushes in her back garden and made your way to a familiar road, it was where you and Ketch had drove down when you were on your way to the house. That’s when you saw his car coming towards you at full speed. You were beyond caring now; you stepped in front of his car. Ketch slammed his foot against the brakes, his car was a centimetre away from you. Once he was pulled over you opened the passenger door and climbed in. Ketch didn’t look at you, he just continued to speed down the road and away from the house with you sat next to him.
Your door slammed and made you jump as he began to drive. “Ketch,” you sobbed angrily. “Ketch, tell me I didn’t just do what I think I did.”
“I was testing you,” he admitted as if it was nothing. He really was a cold hearted man, that was if he even had a heart. “You’re not as strong as I thought you were when it comes to the mistake of killing an innocent person, it needed to be-”
“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screamed so loud that other people would probably come out of their houses, too. “That was not a fucking joke, you asshole! A man is dead. He had a son and a wife, he had a family you fucking piece of shit!”
“These things happen.”
“It wasn’t an accident, Ketch!” You fumed. Once you were out of the neighbourhood and hidden in a parking lot of some diner, you slammed his head against the dashboard. Again, and again, and again. “You asshole! You. Asshole.” You repeated before pulling his head up by gripping his hair. “You wait until I tell my brothers,” you growled. “They’ll kill you if I don’t get there first! Your organisation will go under the fucking ground!”
“They don’t know about it,” he told you calmly as he held his nose to stop the blood from pouring out of it. “The Brits don’t know and they can never know, and neither can your family.”
“And what makes you think that I won’t tell them?!” You spat. You had never met someone like this, even Crowley had more compassion than this man and he was the King of Hell!
“Because they’ll know what you did and hate you even more,” he told you as his cold eyes looked into yours. You were about to protest about how wrong he was but he continued to explain himself. “We know things, we know how your father abandoned you and that your brothers hated you because of how you reacted to some situations. Claire told Mick things when they met, and he told us everything she knows. Do you really think they’re going to want to stick around for someone who was stupid enough to kill someone before even checking if they were innocent?”
His words broke your heart into a thousand pieces. He was right, fuck, he was right. How could someone so cruel speak words that were so true? They would never want you if they knew about this… They would never want you or need you. It was over for you, there was no point in adding to the disappointment that your family already felt towards you. So you had to lie, you and Ketch. On your way back to their base, you came up with your lie that you would tell everyone.
* * *
Toni didn’t move. She was still and not breathing. The blood poured from her head and on to the dirty motel carpet. “She was an asset. She decided to tag along and I let her, but I can never let her know what I did. This isn’t even an official job, they didn’t send me here and they have no idea that Toni and I have been tracking you all.”
“You hurt Y/N,” Dean growled as he got even closer to Ketch than before. Dean didn’t have a gun or any kind of weapon but he didn’t care, he just wanted to tell Ketch exactly how he felt about what he’d done to you. “You let her kill an innocent man. And come on, he had a wife and a kid! I know you were a dick, but this is a whole new level of evil. The way she spoke about you on the tape is different from how she spoke about everyone else. She was considering giving life another chance, and you ruined that.”
“She had already made the decision to take her life, whether she told herself that she was going to give life one last shot or not,” Ketch replied as he took a step back in fear. “Someone was going to do something to upset her… If it wasn’t me then there are four more tapes after me, yours included. Now, Y/N never trusted me. But you, she loved you. She trusted you and put her faith into you and what did you do? You know what you did, you’re just too scared to let it in. You’re too scared to accept that what you did was worse than what I did because she loved you and she didn’t love me.”
Don’t believe what he’s saying, Dean thought. What Ketch was saying felt true to Dean, but accepting that would be like accepting your death. It wasn’t fair.
He couldn’t control his actions. Anger took over his body as he stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Ketch’s neck. Ketch dropped the gun he had in his hand and tried to move Dean’s hands away but he simply couldn’t… Dean was too strong. “Dean, let him go,” John said warily. They had planned on just shooting him and getting it over with, but Dean made it personal. Hell, it was fucking personal. Ketch had never seen as much anger as he did in Dean’s eyes as he watched the life leave the helpless man’s body.
“You are gonna fucking rot for what you did, just like all the rest of them,” Dean growled before squeezing so tight that Ketch’s neck snapped. With that one harsh squeeze, Ketch died instantly and dropped to the floor. Dean didn’t look back at his worried mother and father, he just stared at the motel door before whispering so that they both heard him say, “let’s go home.”
It wasn’t an angry whisper like they had expected, his response was filled with pain and sadness. As much as he had hoped that turning his hurt into anger would help, it only made him feel worse.
* * *
You told them all the lie and they bought it. Everyone, including your family, really believed that you and Ketch had killed the witch successfully. That’s how you explained his nose bleed, the witch was aware that you were in his house or some bullshit. You didn’t really listen, you were too focused on what you had done and what you were planning on doing to stop yourself from hurting anyone else.
You were in the car going home with your brothers, John and Mary were once again in the other car which left you just with your brothers in the Impala.
It was completely silent up until you were around half away home. “Hey, Dean. You know you said I could have some of those tapes?”
“Yeah, kiddo?” He questioned.
“Exactly how many blank tapes do you have? I want to take them all if that’s okay.”
You had already made your decision of how you were going to leave the truth with people. You were going to make tapes to tell the story of everyone person that had hurt you in the last year. There were so many so you probably wouldn’t have been able to add every single one. So you decided that you would just chose the worst ones for the amount of tapes that Dean could give you. That would be your legacy.
“Sure, you can have all of the blank ones,” Dean nodded with a smile. “There are thirteen.”
One of the challenges that we have in America is that America is a society based on conquest, not on survival. It is a society, by and large, based on the concept that there is always a West, always a frontier. There will always be someplace to go. We don’t necessarily have to give thanks for where we are because we’re moving. That’s what has happened in this America, is this conceptual framework—there is always going to be someplace we can go or something else we can buy….
You cannot make an argument to me that the United States is sustainable, because there is no way that a society that causes so much extinction—an industrial society that caused the extinction of over two thousand nations of indigenous people—is sustainable…. A society that causes so much extinction is not a society that is nourishing.
Winona LaDuke, “Honor the Earth: Our Native American Legacy” in The Winona LaDuke Reader: A Collection of Essential Writings (2002, p. 180)
I am terrified of failing.
At the same time I’ve survived it before.
I am terrified of failing.
I am terrified of disappointing myself.
I am terrified of disappointing my parents, even though they tell me they’ll always be proud.
I am terrified to fail in this country I’ve called home, and made their voyage in this foreign land seem for nothing.
I am afraid of being called out by the calluses on my father’s hands.
And I am afraid that if I fall to my knees, my mother’s unfailing ones will mock me.
I am afraid that I’ll fall between the cracks of my brown heritage and pseudo white privilege.
I am afraid of falling from the pedestal my parents have honored me with.
I try to tell myself that I am worth the sacrifice.
Worth their sleepless nights and worried strain.
A beacon of pride and hope, in a neighborhood too often overlooked.
A beacon of anguished esperanza in a city of suburban white success.
I know regardless of what happens.
My parents have and always will love me.
My parents- both mountain and humility.
Success and failure.
Both hurricane, and gentle rain.
Have loved me.
Have been proud of me.
When I’ve been none of these things.
I know this.
But at the end of the day.
I want this legacy to be worth something.
If that one line doesn’t represent this entire fandom of people who cry over founding fathers and those who should have been founding fathers (JOHN LAURENS) and our passion to love and learn and share their legacy then I don’t know what does!
The Cherokees resisted state and federal efforts to remove them from their Southeastern homelands during the 1820s and 1830s. During that time, most whites saw them as an inconvenient nuisance, an obstacle to colonial expansion. But after their removal, the tribe came to be viewed more romantically, especially in the antebellum South, where their determination to maintain their rights of self-government against the federal government took on new meaning. Throughout the South in the 1840s and 1850s, large numbers of whites began claiming they were descended from a Cherokee great-grandmother. That great-grandmother was often a “princess,” a not-inconsequential detail in a region obsessed with social status and suspicious of outsiders. By claiming a royal Cherokee ancestor, white Southerners were legitimating the antiquity of their native-born status as sons or daughters of the South, as well as establishing their determination to defend their rights against an aggressive federal government, as they imagined the Cherokees had done. These may have been self-serving historical delusions, but they have proven to be enduring.
The continuing popularity of claiming “Cherokee blood” and the ease with which millions of Americans inhabit a Cherokee identity speaks volumes about the enduring legacy of American colonialism. Shifting one’s identity to claim ownership of an imagined Cherokee past is at once a way to authenticate your American-ness and absolve yourself of complicity in the crimes Americans committed against the tribe across history.