Reader's Special – Director's Cut (for 4th)

This is in direct relation to Disasteriffic Kaz's Reader's Special – Fourth Edition. I take all the insane crack-worthy prompts she can't use, and put them in here! READ HER CHAPTERS FIRST or this makes no sense

Here's how this is gonna work. Most of the prompts Kaz can't use are because it would end the story too quickly or that the prompter didn't read the rules and asked for something outside the timeline. I'll put the prompts at the end of each chapter, not using names. (Please note that if you asked for a different timeline, I won't be going to that timeline, but rather trying to fit it into this one.)

Each chapter will be UNRELATED to the next. My chapters will ALWAYS be related to Kaz's chapter before it. In other words, I will write DIRECTOR'S CUT-chapter 2. But DIRECTOR'S CUT chapter 3 will be as if DIRECTOR'S CUT chapter 2 didn't really happen. DIRECTOR'S CUT chapter 3 will be a chapter that follows KAZ'S chapter 2, and so on (because this is the only way the prompt will work and make sense—and I use that phrase loosely! LOL)

Bringing you up to speed: Set post 8x17 "Goodbye Stranger"

Kaz's chapter 1 (summarized)

Set in season 8. Sam is sickly from the trials, to an extent, but insists on going on a hunt he's found in Alaska, where people are going missing, turning up dead/frozen/torn up. The opening scene revealed some sort of shadowy creature attacking a dude named Gary. He was working on an oil rig and starting to head back to base because it was cold and dark and all that "something is about to kill me" criteria. The chapter ends with Dean reluctantly agreeing to go, and saying he won't fly...

*~.~*

"Guuuuuuuuuuh," Dean groaned after taking another shot of whiskey in a bar at LAX, Sam sitting beside him looking amused. "I said no flying, Sam. I said no freaking flying and not only did you sucker me into one flight, but now I gotta get back on another one... You suck, bitch."

Sam snorted a laugh and shook his head. "You survived the first flight," he reminded him. "It wasn't even that bad. This flight'll be okay. You can do it." On the other side of the bar, Sam absentmindedly spotted a man and woman standing near the corner, arguing quietly. The woman looked familiar.

"'Course I can do it," Dean scoffed. "You'll have to carry me to it though, because I plan to not know who I am before we get on that next damn plane." The man's back was to Sam, but the woman seemed to be progressively getting upset by the man's words, whatever they were.

"I'm not carrying you, Dean. If fact, I don't know if they'll let you on-board if you get that sloshed."

"Promise?" Dean raised his brows hopefully.

The amusement dropped from Sam's face. "I don't care if I gotta brush your teeth and tell the check-in lady you've got a neurological disorder, we are both getting on that plane." Sam's eyes shot back over to the corner of the room just as the man grabbed roughly onto the woman's arm.

"Let go of me!" she yelled, but the man tugged at her still, roughly trying to direct her to leave with him.

Sam shot up out of his seat and stalked toward them, Dean spinning in his chair slightly, confused as to what was happening. "Leave her alone," Sam called out to the man.

The man stopped and turned around, a scowl on his face. "This is none of your business, so back off, dude."

Sam ignored him and looked to the woman. "Do you want him to let go of you, ma'am?" Fearfully she nodded. Sam looked back to the man. "Let go of her or we'll call security and they'll make you do it themselves. I can't promise they'll be as nice as I am."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" The man violently released the woman and she fell back onto the floor as the man walked toward Sam.

Dean instantly sobered at the sight of the fairly large man stalking toward his brother. Every protective cell in his body began to rush through his veins and had him out of his seat within moments.

"Think you're some kinda hero?" the man asked Sam.

Sam held out his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I don't wanna fight you, man," he said as he shook his head. "The girl looked scared, and I just wanted to make sure she was okay."

"Like I told you before, it's none of your damn concern!" The man moved to lunge at Sam, but Dean was tackling the guy before Sam even realized his brother had gotten up from the bar. He watched as they both hit a table and chair set, Dean's back twisting oddly before they hit the floor. Dean quickly had the upper hand and Sam knew he had it under control. These were just people, after all.

"You okay?" Sam asked the woman who was staring wide-eyed and tearful at the men fighting on the floor.

She looked over to Sam and nodded again. "Thank you," she told him shakily. "God...thank you," she shook herself out of the strange daze she seemed to have been in.

"Hey, this is gonna sound horribly cliched, but do I know you from somewhere?" he tilted his head.

She laughed wetly, sniffling before running a hand over her cheek. "I think I'd remember you," she replied.

"I could swear I've seen you somewhere before," Sam continued.

"Maybe," she nodded, both of them oblivious to the swarm of security guards that came in to pull the fighting men apart. "I'm a model. Not really famous or anything...yet," she smirked.

"Oh my god, now I remember!" Sam's finger waved in the air as he pulled the memory from his brain. "You're the new Sully Sunshine tanning oil girl!"

She groaned. "I hope it's not this embarrassing every time someone says that," she said with a grimace.

"Hey, it could be so much worse."

"Yeah?"

"You could be in a genital herpes commercial."

"I hate to interrupt," Dean's voice drew their attention to him still lying on the floor, a bit of annoyance showing on his face. "But I could use a hand getting up, if you don't mind. Think I did somethin' to my back."

"Sorry," Sam reached down and grabbed Dean's hand with both of his, and pulled.

"Everybody okay over here?" one of the guards asked as the others hauled the man off.

"Yeah, I think we're good," Dean grunted as he stood. "Sunshine-girl over here might need to make a few phone calls, though."

"Alianne," the woman replied with a grin. "And yeah...I'll be okay. Thanks, both of you," she looked back and forth between Sam and Dean. "Not sure I'll have agents lining up to represent me, now, but hey," she smiled, "Showing up for shoots needing extra makeup for bruises on my arms was never really good for business."

"Any agent who isn't smart enough to take on a gorgeous and obviously smart girl like you, is an idiot," Sam smiled. Alianne blushed as she looked down at her feet. "Hey, can we walk you to your gate?"

"Oh uh...yeah sure. That'd be great," she looked back up at them. Dean rolled his eyes, but when she looked at him he smiled at her.

"Got any bags?"

"They're all checked," she replied. "This was just a layover," she told them as they headed out of the bar.

"Where're you headed?" Dean asked.

"Vancouver," she replied. "We're doing a winter-wear catalog for Shawny's."

"Guess it's not the right season for tanning oil," Sam grinned. Dean rolled his eyes again.

*~.~*

"You sure you're okay, Dean?" Sam asked mid-flight.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Dean raised a brow. "I didn't realize you were paying attention to me again."

"What?" Sam asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"Your head was so far up Alianne's ass she might need to take a pregnancy test."

"Are you-" Sam began to argue, but quickly changed tactics. "Oh I see... You're pissed that she was talking to me and not you."

"Pretty sure both of you were not talking to me," Dean retorted, swishing his drink in his glass over the tray table as he spoke. "And you were flirting so hard back and forth I was surprised there was no 'mile-high club' proposition."

Sam just stared at him for a few moments, watching him finish his drink. "I don't even know what to say to you right now," he said, finally. "And is this your way of distracting yourself from flying? Giving me a hard time about something that didn't even happen? Ya know, Alianne is a nice girl."

"Oh I know she is," Dean replied. "She gave me a Xanax for the flight," he said as he smiled. "She understands me, Sammy. She needs them for flying, too."

"Awesome," Sam sat back in his seat. "So you're drunk and stoned."

"Relax, princess. We've gotta wait for our stuff to ship to the hotel before we do anything anyway. I've got the rest of the night to recover."

Sam let out a breath, realizing that Dean was right. At least Dean wasn't on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. Dean's weird fears always made him close to intolerable to be around, let alone impossible to deal with or help. If a little anxiety pill and a few drinks put him at ease like this, Sam would have to let it slide just in this case.

"Hey Sam?" Dean sounded beside him, and Sam turned his head to see his brother looking glassy-eyed at him. "It's like...freezing in Alaska, right?"

"Probably at least below 40."

"We're gonna have to get some winter stuff. Like real winter coats and snow-pants and snow shoes and stuff."

"Yeah, probably."

"Yeah, 'cause...we wear layers when it's like 90 out, dude," Dean said with a dopey half-grin. "We're not made for that kinda cold."

"We'll get some warm clothes, Dean," Sam said and couldn't help a small smile of amusement.

"Some Eskimo suits," Dean grinned. "We'll probably have to special order for you, dude. We're gonna be laid up in a hotel for days just waiting on them to find a Sasquatch big enough to kill and turn into a coat for you," he giggled at the end of the sentence.

Sam tried hard to hold in his own laughter, not at the statement but at his brother's 'giggle', which he would remember to give him a hard time about later. "You're a jerk," he told him without being able to hold back a smile.

Just then, the plane began to shake fairly vigorously, and Dean grabbed onto Sam's arm. Sam knew it was turbulence, but something flared in his chest in that moment, and his hand shot over Dean's and squeezed until they passed through the rough air.

"Whoa, little brother," Dean let out a lighthearted laugh. "I'm supposed to be the one scared of flyin'."

Sam didn't reply as he took his hand back and placed it over the fluttering in his ribcage. He tried to cough and clear it, only sending him into a coughing fit. He reached for Dean's drink-napkin at the same time Dean went to hand it to him, and used it to catch the bit of blood he coughed up. After a moment of letting Sam catch his breath, Dean asked, "You good?"

Sam realized, then, that Dean was still holding onto Sam's arm with one of his hands. "M'okay," Sam nodded. He saw the worry in his brother's eyes, even drugged and boozed up. "Really, I'm fine. Get some sleep, Dean. You look like you need to pass out, anyway."

"You stayin' up?"

"Probably."

"Kay," Dean replied, then shifted closer and laid his head on Sam's shoulder. He did this as if he always did this; as if it were normal and they flew all the time and this is just a thing they did, like Dean taking the bed closest to the door. Sam wasn't sure how to react to it, but he let him stay there, let him keep holding onto his arm. Somehow it gave them both comfort.

*~.~*

"Ooooh man, it's been a while since I slept like that and didn't wake up feeling like death warmed over," Dean said as he stretched awake on the hotel bed. Upon a breath in he noticed an aroma in the air. "Do I smell food?" he asked as he sat up and noticed Sam was unpacking a bag of take-out containers. "You got breakfast? What time is it? You don't even have a proper coat, dude. You should've waited-"

"Until you got up to go out without a proper coat?" Sam asked with a raised brow. Dean snapped his mouth closed, not having a decent retort for that. "I got you the classic Alaskan breakfast," Sam told him, walking the container over to the bed. "An egg nestled on a pancake, and...reindeer meat," he finished with a bit of a grimace.

"Dude... Reindeer meat?" He looked excited as he opened the container to look at his breakfast. "You think this is Comet or Cupid?"

"Just eat your breakfast," Sam shook his head and walked back over to the second bag he brought in. "And speaking of proper coats, I picked you up some stuff, and..." he mumbled the rest of the sentence.

"What?" Dean asked around a mouth full of food.

"You were right," Sam replied. "I had to special order my stuff..."

"Don't feel so bad, Sam. There's what, like...50 people in this city? They don't keep too much in stock for giants."

Sam shook his head and huffed a breathy laugh as he reached down for his coffee. Then the same fluttering feeling he'd felt in his chest on the plane was suddenly back again. Coffee forgotten, he brought his hand up to his chest, determined not to start himself coughing again, he started patting his chest to try and stop...whatever this was.

"Dude, what's up with you?"

"N-nothing," Sam straightened and pulled out a chair so he could sit down and play off the weird sensation.

"You get pneumonia on top of everything else, I'm kickin' your ass. And then I'm draggin' your ass back to the bunker."

"Just...eat your Rudolph," Sam waved a hand at him. "I said I'm good."

"Fine. I'll eat and then I'll go check out the coroner's office."

"Not without me, you're not."

"You don't have anything warm enough to wear outta here," Dean argued.

"I left here to get breakfast and find you warm stuff to wear, didn't I?"

"That's different."

"Not really, Dean. If we needed to go hike out someplace where we weren't gonna be inside for a while, sure. This fact-checking stuff, though, I can handle. I'll wear some extra layers. It'll be fine."

"What now I can't go anywhere by myself?"

"Not with an unknown monster out there. It could be one of the people you talk to. Hell, it could be the coroner."

"Is it the cold making you a bitch or are you just that worried about me?"

"Is it the detox making you a jerk or is it because you're short?"

"You wanna go out with me and freeze your lady-parts off, then fine. Just don't ask for my coat, Samantha."

"You're welcome for getting that stuff for you, by the way," Sam responded with raised brows.

"Thanks," he grinned. "So where the hell is your breakfast?"

"Ate it on the way back," he told him. "Kept me warm, anyway."

"More than I can say for this stuff," Dean poked at the food in his container. "We got a microwave in this place?"

*~.~*

"So our stuff is getting here tomorrow, right?" Sam asked as they trekked into the coroner's office from their rental in the parking lot.

"Overnight expressed it, courtesy of William Robert Thorton," Dean smirked.

It took him a moment to get it. "Billy Bob? Dude..."

"Get used to it. It's what we booked the room under, too."

"Agents Thorton and Jolie?" a man greeted as they walked into the coroner's office.

Sam glared daggers at the side of his brother's head as Dean greeted the man. "What gave us away?" he asked as he shook the man's hand.

"I know every face on this island, and neither of you are one of 'em," he replied with a grin. "I'm Jack. Spoke with you on the phone. I trust you got in without any problems?"

"Nothing a little whiskey couldn't handle, right, Thorton?" Sam smiled.

Dean shot him a glare before turning back to Jack. "So how about those bodies you've got for us to take a look at?"

"Well...body," Jack replied. "Couldn't hold on to the others any longer. Families wanted them put to rest and all," he told them as he began to walk them down the hall. "We don't really have much room here to store them anyway."

"What about the family of this body you still have?" Dean asked.

"This one's a John Doe. Not from here, far as we can tell. And really, there's not a lot left of him to tell much of anything. We've run the DNA but whoever it was, isn't in any database we've sent it through."

"Did you do tox screens on the bodies?" Sam asked.

"All came back with nothing," Jack replied, shaking his head. "It's messed up, I'll tell you that much. I will tell you that I've seen, first hand, injuries from attacks of wildlife in this area. But this is different. First thing people thought was mountain lion. An attack like that would require fear or hunger, and if they were hungry-"

"They would've eaten the bodies," Sam finished for him. "Not left them behind like that."

"Or eaten any of it," Jack added. "There are wounds and tears, but everything is, essentially, there." He opened a door for them to let them in. "Tubs are in the freezer. I've seen enough of it, myself."

"Jack?" Sam looked back before the door was closed. "You said you know all the faces here. Is it possible that any of them could've done this to these people?"

"Like some cracked out Jack-the-Ripper?" Jack raised his brows. "Doubtful. But when you rule out animal attacks, I guess you've gotta take that into consideration. If it's a person that's killing these people, it's not someone from here. They'd have to have a damn good hiding place, to boot."

"Thanks," Dean nodded to him and opened the freezer just as Jack closed the door. "Oh this is gonna be just awesome," Dean grimaced as he pulled out the first tub.

"Dude, you made me Angelina? Really?" Sam scoffed.

"What?" Dean shrugged innocently. "You're hair is almost dead-on."

"You're a jerk."

"Can we look at this crap and get the hell outta here?"

Sam sighed and opened the first tub as Dean pulled out the second. "Oh geez..." Sam grimaced. "Yeah...I can see how they're having a hard time ID-ing this guy."

"Holy crap, dude, you ain't kidding," Dean said as he looked into the bin.

"Looks...looks like an animal attack," Sam swallowed as he tried to cover his nose and mouth with one hand. "There was nothing used to tie his wrists or anything. Nothing that would've restrained him."

"Could've been dead before he started getting tore-up."

"Yeah. But I doubt it. I'm thinking that whatever did this wasn't human."

"Any idea what it could be, then? What kinda monster kills for sport like this and doesn't use the remains for somethin'?"

"Demon. Bloodhound. Someone might've made a deal..."

"I don't smell any sulfur, and I've never seen them do this much damage. This much damage is...not necessary."

"Daevas..."

Sam looked over at his brother, then. "That'd mean we have a witch on our hands. Or a demon, I guess. If they know we're in town..."

"We're basically screwed without our stuff."

"We'll need to lay low for a while. Maybe even tell the coroner we're leaving. Check into a different hotel..."

"This place is too small to lay low in, dude. We'd have to camp out somewhere where people wouldn't see us, and we are so not prepared for any of this. Plus we've gotta wait for our stuff to get here, anyway. We need a better plan."

"As long as we don't go poking around anymore until we get the stuff we need, we should be okay," Sam replied after thinking for a moment. "We tell the coroner we're sending for some equipment and will be going out within the week to observe the wildlife with some animal behavior expert."

Dean let out a breathy laugh. "Who are we gonna find to play that role?"

After a moment they both replied, "Garth..."

*~.~*

"Dude, my back is killin' me from tackling that douchebag at LAX," Dean said as they got out of the rental car at their hotel. "Think I hit the table funny or something. It's really starting to hurt."

Sam only half heard him as his chest started fluttering again out of nowhere. "There's uh...there's some pain killers in my bag," he told him as they approached the door. "Some muscle relaxants in the first-aid kit."

"Sammy? You okay, man? You don't look so good." Sam met Dean's eyes as Dean opened their door to the room. Sam's face was a bit pale, which wasn't exactly a surprise lately, with the trials kicking his ass. "Hey! Whoa whoa whoa!" Dean grabbed hold of his brother just as his knees started to give out. "Sam!" he pulled him into the room and led him over to the bed before turning to shut the door to keep out the cold. He was back at his side within a single breath, hovering over him with concern etched in his face. "Sammy, talk to me, man. What's going on?"

"I just..." he breathed, panted almost, as if he'd just returned from a long run. "I dunno. Room started to go white."

"You're freezing. You know I was kidding, man, you could've asked for my coat," he said as he moved his brother more properly onto the bed and began wrapping him up in the blankets. "You shoulda said something."

"I's not the cold, De'. I dunno what... My chest feels funny. Heart's doing weird flippy things."

Sam watched as Dean's face lost some of its color and the worry etched into fear. Dean's head went to Sam's chest, pressing an ear to his brother's heart. What he heard...well he was no doctor, but he knew that whatever Sam's heart was doing right then, was in no way normal. "S-Sam..." he pulled his head up. "Dude, we need to get you to a doctor. Like right now."

"Dean!" Sam shouted as he watched a shadowy figure slink over the both of them. Dean started to turn, but felt a hard hit to the back of his head, and then there was nothing...

*~.~*

"Dean..." Dean heard the echoing sound of his brother's voice from somewhere. He tried to open his eyes, but coming out of this fog of unconsciousness was like swimming up through pudding. "Dean..." he heard him again, and heard the pained breathing along with it. Somehow that sound pulled him out faster.

"S-Sammy?" Dean looked up at the bright night sky lit up with aurora borealis.

"'s pretty," Sam said weakly where he lay beside him.

Dean turned his head to look at his brother who stared up into the sky. His skin was white and covered with crystals of frozen sweat. He wasn't shivering. "Sam..."

"I can feel it getting slower," Sam said quietly.

"What?"

"I know why you threw it away, Dean," Sam said. "I know it wasn't 'cause of me. It was 'cause of God. 'cause of everything we found out. I didn't know then, but since the trials...things started making sense."

"Sammy, what're you talking about?" Dean tried to get up, but the pain in his back flared ten-fold, and he barely swallowed the cry.

"The amulet," Sam replied. Then he looked over at Dean. "I can feel it slowing down."

"Feel what, Sam? We need to get outta...wherever we are. We need to get someplace warm."

"My heart, Dean," Sam told him. "It's why I've been feeling weird lately."

"Your... Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Dean gruffed out, though it was hard to raise his voice much at all in this state.

"Didn't think much of it at the time," Sam might've shrugged. "It's okay. It's okay, Dean. I can't really feel anything anymore."

"Sam..." Dean's voice shook as he tried to search around them for something—anything; a way out of there, a sign of possible help. "Gonna get us outta here, little brother," he told him. "Even if I gotta carry you."

"You can't, Dean. You can't even get up. Even if you could, it's too far."

"We can't just give up, Sam!"

"It's not...we're not giving up. We're letting go. It's okay, Dean. Look. Look at what we get to see before we fall asleep," he turned his gaze back up to the sky.

Dean stared at his brother for a long moment before looking up at the lights again, a tear dropping from the outer corner of his eye and freezing there. "Sam...we can't..."

"Yeah we can," Sam's hand somehow found Dean's and held on. Dean could barely feel it, he realized, but he closed his fingers around Sam's as much as he could. "We just...we just go to sleep, Dean. And if we're lucky, we wake up in Heaven. If we're not...well, someone brings us back and we end up back here, don't we?" Sam turned his head to look at Dean again, and Dean turned to look at Sam. Sam's eyes were filled with something Dean couldn't quite interpret, but he was smiling at him and his breaths were shortening with every passing second. "I love you, De..." he told him. Then his eyes closed.

"Sam?" Dean's voice shook and he received no reply. "Sammy?" his face pinched as he watched his brother's final breaths. "Sammy, I love you, too... Sam?" And Sam had stopped. Everything had stopped. And Dean's whole world burst in his chest as he cried out into the empty sky.

His breath came quick and hard with tears that wouldn't pass the corners of his eyes, stopped up from the cold that had paralyzed them both. After a long moment, Dean allowed himself to let go. He allowed himself to relax and look back to his brother one last time.

"Goodnight, Sammy," he told him, then closed his eyes...

*~.~*

End. (Please note that each chapter will be continued from KAZ'S chapters, not mine. In other words, Sam and Dean did not die in Kaz's chapter 2, therefore nothing from THIS chapter applies to my next chapter.)

Prompts from which this chapter was created:

For my prompt have the trials start affecting Sam's heart and Dean doesnt realise it til it starts showing in Sam's performance and Dean goes into hyper-worry mode.

My prompt: Sam gets hurt badly in season nine somehow and Ezekiel brings up the amulet and voicemail to Dean. Sam has been thinking about them a lot lately.

exhausted dean & sam, it's on the edge of dying (like so many time), it's freaking cold, in the middle of the night. Sam already dozed off to. .. (whatever) dean is ready to give up on life with his little brother, leaving everything behind. "good night, sammy" ...

My Prompt Is where Dean is seriously hurt. But he doesn't realize because he's making sure Sam is alright.

My prompt is that they have a difficult time finding Sam the warm clothes and shoes he will need for the harsh conditions in Alaska. They have to be special ordered. That delays them starting the hunt. Sam feels guilty about the delay and while they wait he gets very creative to try to find a solution to the problem.

they would have to change planes from Kansas to Alaska so I'd like to see a stopover in Los Angeles and see what sort of trouble Dean could get into there ( maybe rescuing a model from an attack so the attacker goes after Sam)