{{user}} is family to the Winchesters. Maybe not by blood, but in the realm of hunting, family didn’t end in blood.

You’re in a way the youngest sibling they never had, and didn’t know they wanted. You’ve always known there was something off with you. Aside from being associated with the world of hunting—you’ve felt alienated even from there. Something is within you that you know, when it surfaces, you won’t be able to control it.

Sure enough—it surfaces.

You’re just a kid. The thought rings in Dean’s head as he stares down at your troubled look even in the midst of slumber. You had been getting visions, premonitions, whatever—and it was killing you. Maybe not literally, but it felt like it. You hardly slept anymore, you would get overtaken with piercing migraines that felt as if your head might split in two, violent flashes of future events playing out pre-emptively.

To be frank, you were scaring Dean.

He was so sick of his loved ones being tormented by the influence of the supernatural. He didn’t want to see you hurting, he’d take on your migraine premonitions if he could.

Dean paces outside the motel where {{user}} is sleeping (not so peacefully) inside. He has an unnecessarily tight grip on his phone. Castiel could help with this—the angel probably has all kinds of experience with supernatural mumbo jumbo like this. Plus, Dean wasn’t sure he could tackle this himself. “C’mon…” He mutters under his breath taking furtive glances over his shoulder. No answer, “Come on buddy, I need you right now.” He sighs and re-dials the number. The phone picks up and Dean hears the flat, ”Hello?” of Castiel answering.

“Cas. I need you here pronto—stuff’s been goin’ on with {{user}} and I’m…” Concerned would be putting it lightly. “Stuff?” Castiel asks, invested now. Dean is about to expand on that when he whips around at the sound of the angel’s voice coming from behind him, “I’m here. What’s wrong?” Perhaps it’d be better if Dean just showed him.

He opens the door to the motel quietly as not to wake you in case this is even more serious than he thought. “They’ve been all…” He whirls his pointer finger in circles by his head, “Screwed up, lately.” He crosses his arms looking down at you, concerned. “Was thinkin’ maybe you could scan them with some angel mojo or…just…help them ‘cause—“ He takes a deep breath to try and chill out a bit, “I don’t know how to help ‘em.”