I Really Messed Up, Guys: A Supernatural Self Harm Fic

Eat Me

Holy macaroni. 1.7 k??? How is this even happening??? Thank you so much!! 

Okay I know this chapter is a little rough but dear God. I didn't think writing hunts would be this hard. Thank you for all your patience!!! I'll try to update again sooner! <3

"So, pretty much what you're telling me is that some douche bag tried to get his lady to go heels to Jesus with him, she said no, and then he ganked her?"

"Yeah, man. Like, why didn't she just say yes? There's a reason she's called Prudey Peggy," the kid scoffed. He couldn't have been more than twenty years old, but he was already filling Dean, Sam, and Casey with disgust. He looked at Casey. "Should she even be hearing this?"

"Should you even be talking?" she snapped back, crossing her arms. "There's a reason you aren't getting any, you know? You're a dick." The kid was taken aback. She couldn't remember his name. Scott or Brad or something asshole sounding. He obviously wasn't expecting to get filleted by a fifteen year old girl, and by the rising color in his face, he didn't look like he was expecting to take it calmly.

He turned to her brothers, looking at them expectantly. "Aren't you going to say anything? She just called me a dick. She's like, what, twelve?"

Casey's jaw dropped open in mock surprise. "Oh my god!" She put her hands on her cheeks and looked at Sam and Dean. "He knows numbers?" She took great pleasure in watching ScottBrad's face turn a deeper shade of red. It was obvious that he wanted to snap back by the way his jaw was clenched, but something about the two six plus foot guys standing beside her was stopping him from speaking his mind. He looked at Sam for help, but Sam shrugged.

"Kids these days," he said dismissively.

Dean snapped his fingers in the kid's face. "Hey. We're on the clock here. Knock it off and tell us what we need to know."

"Whatever," Whateverhisnamewas said. He folded his arms and puffed his chest, as though he was defending his honor by making himself look slightly bigger. "There's not much else, anyways. That's where all those kids died. Bet it was because Prudey Two-shoes didn't want them bangin' on her death bed." He paused. "It doesn't seem that complicated to me. I know it was a different time and stuff, but you may as well. Nobody goes into the sub-basement expecting to not get any nookie. She knew what she was going for. Shoulda put out." He shrugged and Casey felt her rage grow.

Dean flapped his notebook shut and looked coldly at the kid. "By talking to you I'm beginning to think that your mother shouldn't have." BradScott looked as though he wanted to say something, but Dean was nowhere near finished. "Listen, Brad-,"

"It's Tad," Apparentlynotbradorscott interjected.

"Yeah, I don't really care. The thing is, Tad. Chick says no, it means no. Pout all you want, but you don't go and stab your girlfriend in the sub-basement because you didn't get your rocks off, plain and simple."

"It's the sub-basement. The only thing on the menu down there is sex. No rainchecks." The kid was firm on his beliefs.

"Yeah, well, she wanted her's to-go. Point is, the little girl is right. You're a dick."

Casey smiled at Tad happily. Even if she hadn't been right, it was nice to know that her brothers would defend her honor, although she was completely right this time around. Both of them knew that too.

As they turned to leave, Sam looked up from his phone. "Oh, by the way, Tad. Her name was Margaret. So maybe instead of calling an obviously murderous ghost a prude, you can politely ask forgiveness by using her real name." He smirked before leaving the boy. It killed all three of them to not see the horror unfold on his face as he realized the danger that he might be in, even though he wasn't the spirit's targeted audience. All three of them knew that Tad (who names their kid Tad anyways? Did they want him to be a douche?) would be completely safe from Margaret; there was no way he would ever be able to convince a girl to go anywhere with him.