Summary: After Sam had left for college, John had made you and your other brother, Dean, go on a series of hunts with no breaks. Being 17 and going on non-stop hunts was starting to take a toll on you.
Warnings: Mentions of blood
It's been a month since Sam left after the fight, and 3 weeks since John sent you and Dean out to work some cases. They weren't just some quick salt and burns either. You've been hunting black dogs, ghouls, and your own personal favorite-- shapeshifters. All these different kind of monsters made you want it to be a ghost hunt.
You and Dean walk back into the old motel room like you've been hit by a bus. Blood was going down your forehead from a cut you got from being pushed through a glass table, and Dean definitely messed up his shoulder by the way he was holding his right arm close to his body.
You threw the duffle bag full of weapons onto the small wooden table near the window, hoping to clean them later if you got the chance. Dean dropped on the end of his bed, the one closest to the door. It had always been a rule since you were kids: Dean would have the bed closest to the door just in case anyone, or thing, would barge in.
"Alright, move your hand," you instructed with a voice hoarse from exhaustion. You walked over to Dean as he slowly moved his hand away from his shoulder. Placing your hand to where his had been, you put some pressure to feel where you need to pop it back into.
"Okay, one." You felt Dean tense up as he shut his eyes to prepare. You mostly would pop it back in after one but not this time.
"Two-"
He opened one of his eyes and looked up at you with an eyebrow raised. "Wha-"
POP.
Dean groaned through his gritted teeth, his jaw clenching as he exhaled sharply. "You are cruel for that, Y/N," He grumbled, standing up to make sure it was fine. Dean rolled it a few times before walking to the bathroom to get the first aid kit.
You shrugged as you took his place on the bed. "When you know it's coming, it hurts more." He came back into the room with the kit in his hand. You heard him chuckle under his breath a little before he dragged one of the chairs from the table to sit in front of you.
"I don't think that's how it works, missy." He poured some alcohol onto the gauze pad, setting the bottle down on the floor by his feet.
"Sure it is. You always distracted Sa-" You winced as he pressed the gauze to your forehead, cutting off your sentence with a sharp inhale.
"Hm. Yeah, maybe it is how it works." Dean smirked.
You shot him a glare but before you could reply with a sarcastic remark, your phone buzzed in your pocket. Dean stopped when you shifted a little to get the phone from your jeans. The bright light of the screen illuminated your face and the message on it made your expression drop.
Dean watched your expression change and his small smile went away. "Dad?"
"There's a case in Wyoming. He said to get there ASAP." You bluntly spoke.
Every time you guys were done with one case, John would immediately send a text for another. It was driving you insane. You didn't speak of it to Dean since you didn't want to complain about saving people but it was harder to hide your annoyance. Dean saw right through it.
You sent out a reply to your dad. Just a simple: "Yes, sir." That was always your reply. Dean put a bandage over the cut while you threw your phone over to your bed.
"We'll leave in the morning," he said, standing up to go put the first aid kit away. You felt your eyebrows furrow a little bit and scoot back to lean on the pillows.
"But he expects us to be there in the morning." You said watching as Dean packed for the morning, unfazed.
"If we leave right now we won't ever get there. We're both tired and if I drive then we'll probably get into a car crash because I fell asleep on the wheel." You hated to admit he was right, but he was. The thought of postponing John's orders didn't sit right with you though.
"I can drive," you offered.
"No." He quickly shut that offer down with his older brother tone. Of course he wouldn't let you drive Baby. "You need sleep, sweetheart. Ever since-" He stopped himself when he saw you picking at your nails. It was one of your anxiety habits that you did.
You guys haven't talked about Sam leaving. In fact, you guys were actively avoiding it. There were times where the talk could've happened. For example, in the car or before going to bed some nights.
You and Sam were close. Really close. Him leaving you and Dean felt like a part of you left. You weren't mad at him for any of it since you understood but it still made you sad. You buried those feelings like a Winchester. Fake it until you make it.
Dean knew, though. And in his own way, he tried to be there for you. He just didn't know how to say it.
He took something out of the bag he was packing before zipping it up. Your mind raced, bracing for the conversation you had both been avoiding. How would you answer his questions? Would you cry? Would he?
Your thoughts were cut off by soft strumming of a guitar. Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide."
You blinked when you realized Dean had found your iPod--the one you had been searching for. He set it on the table and came to lay beside you so your legs were almost touching.
Reaching over, he took your hands that were on your lap in his. As the song played, Dean rubbed his thumb along your knuckles that were slightly scratched up from the fight earlier. The gesture made your tense muscles relax and you took the chance to lean your head on his shoulder.
Can I sail through the changin' ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
You felt Dean shuffle against the pillows so it would be more comfortable for the both of you.
"You know I'll always be here if you want to talk, right?" he murmured. "I might not be good with my words like Sam, but I give great hugs."
The warmth of his voice settled inside you. He saw you. He understood. But only because he was hurting too.
Well, I've been 'fraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
"I know," you whispered. "I'm here for you too. You might be my older brother and think you have to act all tough but you need someone to lean on too."
You felt his chest stilled for a second before he exhaled, his grip on your hands tightened slightly.
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I'm gettin' older, too
"Yeah, I know." He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "Now go to bed, Y/N/N. I'll wake you up so you can shower tomorrow."
You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as the music played. Stupid Dean. He always knew that music helped you sleep. For the first time in the past three weeks, you slept peacefully.
Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole.
Supernatural Masterlist // Full Masterlist
Sister!Reader x Sam and Dean
You were actually clueless as to how you’d gotten Dean here. It had been months of begging and attempted black-mail. Hell, you had even asked Sam. But neither brother would budge. Until today.
There was no chance you were going to say no when Dean dangled the car keys in front of your face this morning. You had been waiting months for one of your brothers to cave and it had finally happened.
“Do you want to learn or not?”
“Of course, yeah, let me just… get dressed.”
So, you may, or may not, have ended up choking on your cereal. You also totally didn’t continue to choke as you, safely, ran to your room to throw some clothes on and brush your teeth. You sprinted out into the centre of the bunker where Sam and Dean were both chuckling as you showed that you were ready.
“No, you aren’t.”
“What do you mean? I’m dressed.”
“He means you aren’t ready to go driving, Y/N.”
“Yes, I am Sammy!”
You started to get frustrated, beginning to believe that they were just playing games with you rather than actually teaching you to drive.
“Your feet.”
You looked down, you still had slippers on from when you went into the bathroom. The floor of the bunker was normally warm, but the tile floors of the bathrooms were always freezing.
“Oh…”
Sam had wandered down to your bedroom to get you a pair of socks and suitable driving shoes. The boys had seen your expression change and apparently had decided to play nice.
“Are you both coming?”
“Well, I don’t expect you want to be alone with Dean when you smash up the car?”
“I’m not going to be that bad!”
“Still, do you want to chance it?”
“No.”
So all three of you exited the bunker and got settled in the Impala. For a moment, Dean definitely forgot he wasn’t driving. After you actually shoved him to the right side of the car, you hopped into the driver’s seat.
“Right, so put the key in the ignition.”
“Dean, I know how to start a car, even with a key.”
“I know, wait, what?”
You ignored Dean’s question and reached for the aux cord, gracefully added in secret by Sam, and plugged it into your phone. You decided you’d need something not too distracting, but of course you could choose whatever you wished to hear, and whatever Dean didn’t.
As the opening to Status Quo played, obviously from High School Musical, played in the car you watched Dean for his reaction.
“Turn it off.”
“Nope.”
“You can’t listen to music and learn to drive.”
“Sure I can.”
“Can you at least play something else?”
“Nope.”
“Why?”
You and Sam looked each other dead in the eye and turned to Dean.
“Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole.”
Dean snapped his head around and raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was in disbelief that you’d actually used his own retort against him.
Warnings: Cute Dean, fluff, lots of laughs, Dean making kids giggle, Dean being great with kids, Talk of Deans baby Y/n
Summary- Dean and his sister (Y/n) doing cute little projects with his pre-school/ kindergarten class.
Word Count: 3k
Main Masterlist:
Taglist: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl
I’ve been working for the cute little mam and pop, day-care. This year will mark the second year I’ve been here.
I grow-up with loving parents, and a baby sister. When Y/n was born I felt the natural pull to protect her, and make she was safe at all times. My parents, let me take that brotherly role in her life. My baby sister Y/n was only a year younger than me, so we pretty much did everything together.
When we were in elementary school, I’d walk Y/n to her kindergarten class, and then I’d walk to my first-grade classroom. I honestly can’t believe I still remember that memory.
I walked up the hall and to my classroom door. I had only had these kiddos for about three weeks now, but there were making great progress. And since today was Friday I thought it be cool if I dressed up a little and we had an arts and crafts day.
I looked down at my watch, the digital numbers popping up it read “8:30″. ‘Great I had enough time to pull out all the supplies, and have a few more cups of coffee to keep up with the little munchkins.’
I set my half empty coffee cup on my desk in the front of the classroom, and open the shades letting the morning sun fall into the class room. I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the abundance of playlists on my Spotify account.
This was the only time, when the kids weren’t in my room was, I allowed to listen to my type of music. “Heck yeah, let’s rock baby.” I said as I clicked the most recent playlist.
I set my phone down on my desk and walked around the room. I had a fairly small class this year. I had 2 baby girls that were only about ten months old, but the rest of my class was 2 years, which had the attention span of a Nat, and had the most energy I had ever seen.
Ya, see I love working with this age group. The babies which have to come to day care are the most adorable little girls I had ever seen. Little toes and babbles coming from them as I would change them into their afternoon outfit, or we sit down and eat.
My other kiddos were just having equally adorable. They’d raise their hands for everything, they also asked the oddest of question, but I think what I love most about being with these kiddos every day is that they make me so much happier.
I generally wake up in an over-all happy mood, but the minute my kiddos step into my room. I can feel the joy raise through me, starting at my toes and ending at head. And just like any day, I’m always the first to make it to the daycare. The second person to make their way into the building was my co-teacher. My co-teacher just so happens to be Y/n. She had a thing for being late, but I didn’t mind.
Y/n walked into the classroom, setting her belongings on the rounded desk in the back of the classroom. When Y/n had told me, she had interned to be a part of the daycare I couldn’t help but feel so excited.
Y/n and I’s relationship was prefect damn near unbreakable. Something about having her by my side thirty years later had a great feeling. “Hey big bro!” She said as she looked up after setting her things down on her desk.
“Hey sis, you get enough sleep last night?” I asked knowing she probably didn’t, not with the way those two-year-old ran her ragged yesterday. Y/n and I had a system to how we took care of our class. I’d take Monday with the two-year-old, and then Tuesday I spent with the baby girls, Wednesday I was with the big kids again and then Thursday I was with the babies yet again Friday I’d take the big kids.
Then the cycle would change and Y/n would start with having the big kids Monday. I went over to the paper section, pulling out craft paper, crayons and markers for the kids to play with. “Today if you can’t tell by my amazing outfit, it’s craft day.” I said walking past Y/n desk in the back, as I kicked out the raveling carpet.
I set the paper down at my desk. The day care didn’t open until nine fifteen. “Sis, what may it be?” I said fancying my best London accent, doing things like this made me even happier, it got me in a mood to see my kiddos in the morning.
“Tee time may be nine ten brother.” Y/n said trying her fancy on the old London accent. I got up, quickly turning my playlist off and standing neither my door, other teachers were starting to the same. I waited, and the first child I saw was one of baby girls. Her name was Amber. Her mother said hello handed me her Amber’s bags and then said a short and quick bye-bye to her daughter. “Y/n, Come get amber and bring her to the back room.” I said Y/n came running taking Amber to the back room.
The back room was meant for any kiddos under the age of one year old. It was a quiet space for them, a space dedicated to just them. When I handed Amber off, I heard coo at the Y/n, “Awe, good morning sweetheart.” I heard Y/n say has she walked father away from me and closer to the back room.
The next kiddo was the other sweet baby girl. “Hey, Dean. I like the outfit today.” Said Poppies mother, and she handed me a sleeping poppy, and of course her bag for today. “And look you two match, how adorable.” Poppies mother said before kissing her baby's temple and then walking out the front door. The sun was starting to peak further above the horizon.
I figured since Y/n wasn’t back yet that she was probably putting amber things in the respectful place. I set Poppy down slowly and softly. “Well, the two baby girls are here, you need anything with these two and I’m right outside okay, sis.” I said as I saw Y/n come back from the little kitchenette we had in the back room.
AS Y/n got closer to me, she too noticed the matching outfits that me and Poppy were wearing. “You and poppy match today!” She spoke. Both poppy and I were wearing striped shirts, and dark blue overalls. The only different was that Poppy had a cute little bow in her short hair. “Okay, I’ve got to go out into the classroom and get ready for the other kiddos.” I said to Y/n before walking out of the back room.
When I made it to the door, Justin, Rachel, Cassie, and Paula were standing outside with their parents. ‘Good morning!” As each kid kissed their mothers' cheeks and ran over to me.
after all the parents had left, saying their goodbyes. We all went into the classroom. Like I said before my classroom room size was fairly small. Which I of course didn’t mind.
The kids put all their belongings on the little racks, and ran over. In the morning time we’d sit around in a circle and say one good thing that happened yesterday. I never picked on the kids, I just let the first kid that wanted to go, start us off.
Rachel was the first to start us off. “Yesterday, my mommy and I had ice cream for dessert.” She said her high and squeaky voice, making me smile. “Oh, that sounds awesome! Do you remember what flavor?” I asked sitting down like the kids were. “it was CHOCOLATE!” Rachel screamed the last part. “Oh, that does sounds yummy.” I spoke.
The next kiddo to go was Paula, she started off by saying “When i got home yesterday, I help my daddy make dinner. And we had mac and cheese.” She said rubbing her tummy as she looked back at that not do long ago memory.
Justin interrupted me before I could say anything “Mr. Dean? Where’s miss Y/n?” He spoke. playing with his shoe strings. “That a good question, but remember we have to raise out hand if we are going to ask a question.” I spoke. “I’m sorry.” Justin said.
“To answer Justin question, Miss Y/n is in the back room’ I said pointing towards the door in the back. ‘She’s taking care of the babies today, like I did yesterday.” I spoke.
“Really?” The four kids said in unison. I laughed a little. “Yes, Now Justin would you like to share your good thing?” I asked. “Of course, I want to share Mr. Dean. Yesterday, I helped my sissy with her make-up.” He said putting both his hands on his hips.
I again laughed, another reason why I love working with kids. They are always no matter what so eccentric. “Okay Cassie, what was one good thing that happened yesterday?” I asked. Cassie and I had a rocky start in the begging of class. She was an overly shy girl, and talked softly. But she grew comfortable with me. “Mr. Dean?” She asked getting up from where she had been sitting. “Can I whisper it to you?” She asked.
I just shook my head; she came closer and cupped her hands around my ear. “Yesterday, I told my mommy and daddy I couldn’t wait to come back to class.” She said in a very quiet whisper.
Awe I thought to myself, and said out loud. “I’m glad your excited to come to see me.” wrapping one of my arms around Cassie already small body and hugged her. “Okay kiddos, since today is the last day of the week. We’re are going to arts and crafts.” I spoke.
“Yay!” Justin said getting up and walking over to the little table. I looked over at Cassie, and smiled. she gave me a short smile and walked over to where Justin was. So, I got up and made sure that Rachel and Paula were walking with me. Once they were all sitting down at the table.
I grabbed the different colored papers, and the crayons and markers. Placing everything in the middle so they would be able to share. "Now kiddos, if you want anything else. I will be at my desks.” I spoke.
I sat down at my desk, trying to figure out anything else that I could do with the kiddos since today was Friday. ‘We could sit down and watch a movie; I could wait for them to do finished with their crafts, and then do another craft all together.’ I thought to myself.
I was pulled out of my thoughts when I heard the back-room door open, “Um, Mr. Dean. I need your help!” Y/n said. The kids rose their heads, but went back to coloring when they noticed it was just Y/n. “Listen kiddos, I have to go help miss Y/n, so just continue doing your drawing.” I spoke. I heard a “Okay, Mr. Dean.”
I walked to the back-room, Y/n walked back through the door, not shutting it. “What’s up Y/n? ” I asked. “I just needed your help, getting them into their afternoon clothes. They both had accidents.” Y/n said walking over to grab Amber and Poppy’s bag.
“Alright then, let's get started.” I said taking Amber’s bag. When I came over to where Y/n and had laid them out on the soft blanket on the floor, Amber had her small hand wrapped around her small ankle chewing softing on her big toes. “Awe sweetie, not that icky.” I said taking her foot from her mouth. Amber’s mother had packed two different outfits, one being a short sleeve shirt that said “Daddy's girl!” in purple glitter with a black skirt. Her second outfit was a long sleeve that had a momma and baby elephant on it, with blue leggings.
I held up either one of the shirts, I know she’s only ten, but I bet her Amber’s mom is letting her choose some sort of her outfits. I held the shirts up and Amber did the thing that most kids her age do which is grabby hands. Amber wanted to wear the elephants, which meant she was pants.
So, I lightly lifted Amber's head to let me put her head in through the hole at the top of the shirt, then I had to grab her arms. Amber had this thing when you changed her cloths. All the sudden she’d become a wiggle worm. Finally, after a few minutes of trying to grab her arms, she let me. I gently put her hands and arms through the holes. Afterwards I put her leggings on and I sat her up in my lap.
“The kiddos out there asked where you were today?” I said catching Y/n attention. “Did they? Awe that’s cute” She said had she lifted Poppy into her lap. “I’ve got them drawing out there, since it’s Friday.” I said “I figured you go easy on since today is Friday. Yesterday I tried to teach them number one through twenty, but it didn’t work out as I planned.” Y/n said laughing a little when poppy babbled into her lap.
“I was thinking that we could let them watch a Disney movie and feed these girls, maybe go for nap time too.” I said lightly bouncing Amber in my lap, and she chewed on her binky. I saw Y/n face contort like it always did when she was thinking.
“I don’t see why not; what movie were you thinking?” Y/n asked. Without missing a beat “Frozen” I said, a little giggle erupted from my younger sister. “Okay, I guess we got a plan then.” She said putting Poppy on her hip, and walking towards the door, so I followed her. “Let’s go Amber!” I said putting her on my hip and walking out of the room.
When I walked out the kiddos were still coloring and drawing. “Alrighty kiddos let’s be done with coloring. Because we are going to watch a movie.” I said All heads turned and looked at me, in the moment you could hear a mouse scurrying across the floor for how quiet it was.
“What movie are we watching?” Rachel said after raising her hand. “Rachel we are watching Frozen!” I said as I put Amber in the high chair. All that could be heard for a few seconds was screams of happiness.
“Alrighty calm down, kids. I want you all to go sit on the carpet in the front of the classroom.” Y/n said as she buckled Poppy in her high chair. “I’ll get the movie started, and you get the babies food.” Y/n said. “Okay.”
I walked in to the back room and grabbed their food. Y/n had finished set-up the movie and it had already started playing the starting credits. She walked back over, and grabbed a fandom one from my hand, and we started to feed the babies.
The kiddos watch the movie in silence, at one point close to when Anna meets Kristoff. The babies were done eating so we took them out of the high chairs and set them down in our laps as we sat behind the kids. When Cassie noticed that we were now on the floor, she turned around, and crawled over to me.
Laying down and resting her head on my thigh. “Are you tired Cassie?” I asked, all I got in response was a hum. I smiled, and brushed her arm. I felt the change in her breathing. I looked over at Y/n. “Cassie is out and so is Amber. Should we call it?” I asked her. She looked down at Poppy. “Poppy is asleep, and I think so is Justin.” She said looking at the kids.
Y/n got up with poppy in her arms. She came over and grabbed a sleep Amber in my arms. And brought them into the backroom. I gently picked up Cassie, she didn’t weight much seeing as she was asleep. I moved her over to the sleep mat, and grabbed her a blanket, before walking over and noticing that the once awake Rachel and Paula were asleep, which made this whole process just so much more easier, Y/n walked out of the back-room and noticed the same thing as me.
Whispering Y/n said “Looks like they did the job for us.” Giggling she picked up Rachel, and brought her over next to Cassie. I picked up Justin, now he weighed more than Cassie, causing me to grunt a little when I picked him up. I heard Y/n giggle a little at me. “Stop laughing at me, he’s heavy then I thought.” I said setting him down. Y/n grabbed Paula and did the same thing with her.
“At least they are all asleep.’ She spoke. ‘I could use a lap.” She said leaning her head against my shoulder. I leaned my head against the top of hers. “How about we just take a little nap since it’s the last day before the weekend.” I spoke. She shook her head.
We waked over to the shades that I had pulled letting the morning sun in, and Y/n pulled them back, and then she slides down to the floor, and sat down next to her and she rested the head of my shoulder, “I’m glad I work with you De.” She said a yawn passing her lips.
“I’m glad you’re here to help, Y/n.” I said patting her knee. I kiss her forehead, something I had done since she was a baby girl. I kissed her forehead every night when it was time to go to bed. “I love you, big brother.” She said before she hugged me tightly. “I love you too baby sis.” Hugging her back.
Summary: The investigation brings on new connections, revelations and deaths around every corner as you and your brothers get closer to finding the real monster of Lake Manitoc.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent messages while I was away. I appreciate every one of you so, so much. Thankfully (and miraculously) both of my grandparents have made full recoveries. (Still positive for COVID but symptom-free.) As usual, all dialogue taken directly from the episode will be in italics.
~ ~ ~ ~
“So, there’s the three drowning victims from this year,” Sam said, his eyes never leaving the computer screen in front of him. You were going through the clothes with Dean, silently planning a trip to the local laundromat as the “too used to wear again” pile grew larger and larger by the second.
“And before that?” Dean asked, lifting a shirt to his nose before setting it down on the bed beside him—the first of few wearable clothes.
“Uh, yeah. Six more, spread out over the past 35 years. Those bodies were never recovered, either. If there is something out there, it’s picking up its pace,” Sam replied.
“So, what? We got a lake monster on a binge?” Dean threw a pair of jeans to the large pile behind you.
“This whole lake monster theory—it just bugs me,” you cut in, mimicking your eldest brother’s actions. At this rate, you’d spend more time at the laundromat than working on the case.
“Why?” Dean asked. Sam continued to click through the articles on his screen.
“Loch Ness, Lake Champlain—there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, there’s almost nothing. Whatever is out there, no one’s living to talk about it,” you explained. Dean walked over to Sam, standing behind him and reading over his shoulder. He pointed at one of the articles.
“Bar. Christopher Bar. Where have I heard that name before?” he asked.
“Christopher Bar, the victim in May,” Sam mused, clicking around a bit to find the article he was looking for.
“Isn’t that Andrea’s last name?” you asked as he searched, making your way over to the table and leaning over Sam’s right shoulder. He pulled up the article he was looking for, and the three of you were met with a picture of Lucas. He was wrapped in a towel, and you could only assume it was his grandfather standing beside him.
“Huh. Christopher Bar was Andrea’s husband. Lucas’s father. Apparently, he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued,” Sam summarized. He clicked on the picture so it filled the screen, Lucas’s terrified face staring back at you.
“Maybe we have an eyewitness after all,” you said, moving away from the table and looking anywhere but the picture. Dean did the same, though his eyes were locked on the computer screen.
“No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn’t something you just get over.”
~ ~ ~ ~
Dean pulled up to the playground, and parked. He didn’t shut the car off, however, until he’d surveyed the area and spotted Andrea.
“Let’s go” was all he said before getting out of the car. He waited for you and Sam to get out before starting the walk over to where Andrea sat.
“Can we join you?” Sam asked once the three of you were in close proximity to her. Andrea looked up at the three of you and smiled.
“I’m here with my son,” she replied, glancing over at Lucas before turning back to you.
“Oh. Mind if I say ‘hi’?” Dean asked. Without waiting for a response, he turned away and walked towards Lucas. Andrea scoffed, smiling, and looked back at you and Sam.
“Tell your friend this whole “Jerry McGuire” thing’s not going to work on me,” she said.
“I don’t think that’s what this is about,” you answered, giving her a small, reassuring smile before looking back at Dean. Andrea mimicked your smile before turning her attention to Dean and her son. She rose from her seat and stood beside you on your left, Sam to your right. The three of you watched in an awkward silence for a moment, like parents only congregated to ensure their children’s safety. You decided to break the tense stillness.
“So, has Lucas always been so…reserved?” You asked, watching as Lucas almost refused to acknowledge Dean’s presence. A humorless laugh escaped Andrea’s lips, and she turned to face you.
“No, no. He used to be so talkative when he was younger. He shut down when his dad passed.”
“We’re sorry to hear that,” Sam interjected when Andrea paused. She sighed, crossing her arms. “I’ve taken him to therapists…done everything under the sun that I could, but still, Lucas hasn’t said a word. Not even to me. Not since his dad’s accident.”
“Yeah, we heard. Sorry,” said Dean as he went to stand beside her.
“What are the doctors saying?” Sam asked. Andrea sighed again, a sort of exasperated sigh that usually accompanied information relayed countless times.
“Oh, that it’s a kind of post-traumatic stress,” she replied. Something about her tone led you to believe she didn’t believe that herself.
“That can’t be easy for either of you,” you sympathized.
“We moved in with my dad. That helps a lot. It’s just…when I think about what Lucas went through—what he saw…” Andrea trailed off, focusing her gaze back on her son.
“Kids are strong. You’d be surprised what they can deal with,” Dean assured her.
“You know, he used to have such life. He was so hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth.” Her nostalgic smile was short-lived as her thoughts settled back in the present. “Now, he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—” She cut herself off when Lucas approached, bending slightly to greet the boy. “Hey, sweetie.” Lucas kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, but went to Dean’s side and held out a picture.
“Thanks.” Dean took the picture and looked down at it. “Thanks, Lucas.” He turned his head to look back at the younger boy, but he’d already set back toward the bench. Andrea watched him for a moment then looked back at Dean, mouth slightly agape.
~ ~ ~ ~
The door of your motel room swung open and Sam walked in, letting it shut itself.
“So, I think it’s safe to say we can rule out Nessie,” he announced. He looked to Dean, who sat at the end of the bed currently covered in clothes—clean clothes you’d just brought back from the laundromat.
“What do you mean?” Dean asked as Sam sat at the edge of the second bed.
“I just drove by the Carlton’s house,” he explained. “There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead.”
“He drowned?” Dean asked in disbelief.
“Yep, in the sink.”
“What the hell? So, Y/N is right; this isn’t a creature. We’re dealing with something else,” said Dean.
“Yeah, but what?” you asked, dropping the shirt in your hands. Sam shook his head.
“I don’t know. A water wraith maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water…” Dean trailed off, and the three of you looked at each other, eyes widening with the revelation you seemed to come to simultaneously. “Water that comes from the same source.”
“The lake,” you continued your brother’s thoughts. “Which would explain why it’s upping the body count. The lake is draining. It’ll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it’s running out of time.”
“And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone almost anywhere,” Sam added.
“This is going to happen again soon.” Dean moved to sit at the table and began putting his shoes back on, ready to go after this thing. You grabbed your boots from their spot beside the bed.
“And we do know one other thing for sure,” Sam continued. “We know that this has got something to do with Bill Carlton.”
“Yeah. It took both his kids,” you said, pointing out the obvious in Sam’s statement as you tied your laces.
“And I’ve been asking around. Lucas’s dad, Chris—Bill Carlton’s godson,” Sam revealed.
“Let’s go pay Mr. Carlton a visit,” Dean decided, rising from his seat.
~ ~ ~ ~
As if he’d never moved from the last time the three of you visited his home, Bill Carlton sat on his dock, looking out at the water. His back was to the house, and he made no move to acknowledge your arrival at any point as the three of you walked over. His grief was obvious in his movements—or lack of, that is—but it was a whole other thing to see the despair on his face, the sorrow in his eyes when you approached the man.
“Mr. Carlton?” Sam asked. “We’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”
“We’re from the Department of-”
“I don’t care who you’re with,” Bill cut Dean off. “I’ve answered enough questions today.” His voice quivered as he spoke, always on the verge of tears. You stepped forward to speak with him.
“Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there?” Your voice was empathetic, but professional—you’d found it was enough to give you an air of authority, but comforting enough to allow you to gain the trust of your witness. Bill, however, remained silent, refusing to meet your gaze. “Mr. Carlton, Sophie’s drowning and Will’s death—we think there might be a connection. To you or your family.”
“My children are gone. It’s…it’s worse than dying.” Bill blinked away tears and finally turned to look up at you. The air fell still for a moment, punctuating his words. He turned away before he spoke again. “Go away…please.” Dean nudged you before nodding his head in the direction of the car. You wouldn’t get anywhere badgering him any further. Sam and Dean left the dock, but you stayed planted in your spot, pursing your lips.
“I’m sorry,” you said softly. Bill only looked down at the ground and shut his eyes. With that, you finally turned and followed your brothers back to the car.
“What do you think?” Sam asked once you were back at the car and out of Bill’s earshot.
“I think the poor guy’s been through hell. I also think he’s not telling us something.” Dean answered.
“So now what?” Sam asked, resting his arms on the hood of the car. You went to stand beside him, ready to get in, but Dean had stopped and was now looking up at the house.
“What is it?” you asked.
“Huh. Maybe Bill’s not the only one who knows something.” He pulled Lucas’s picture out of his jacket pocket and held it out in front of him. The drawing was identical to the house standing before you.
~ ~ ~ ~
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Andrea said, putting her hands on her hips.
“I just need to talk to him, just for a few minutes,” Dean pleaded.
“He won’t say anything. What good’s it gonna do?” Andrea asked him. Sam was the one to answer her.
“Andrea, we think more people might get hurt. We think something’s happening out there.”
“My husband, the others—they just drowned. That’s all.” Andrea shook her head, adamant in her beliefs. You sighed.
“If that’s what you really believe, then we’ll go,” you said. “But if you think there’s even a possibility that something else could be going on here, please let Dean talk to your son.” Andrea didn’t reply, and she cast her gaze downward. You could practically see the gears turning as she weighed the pros and cons of letting the three of you upstairs. Moments later, she looked back at the three of you and nodded.
“Alright.” She moved past you and walked up the stairs, motioning for the three of you to follow. You stood against the wall once you’d all reached Lucas’s room, standing close enough to see what was going on, but far enough back to give Dean space to do his thing without an audience. He stepped into the room and knelt down on the floor beside Lucas.
“Hey, Lucas. Remember me?” It was silent for a moment as he looked down at two of Lucas’s pictures. “You know, I, uh…I wanted to thank you for that last drawing. But the thing is, I need your help again.” Dean pulled the picture of the Carlton house out of his pocket and set it down in front of Lucas. “How did you know to draw this? Did you know something bad was gonna happen? Maybe you could nod yes or no for me. You’re scared.” Dean nodded. “It’s okay. I understand. See, when I was your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom, and I was scared, too. I didn’t feel like talking, just like you. But, see, my mom, I know she wanted me to be brave. I think about that everyday. And I do my best to be brave. And maybe your dad wants you to be brave, too.” You quickly wiped a tear from your eye. The three of you had always had a bond, having lost your mothers to demons at such young ages, but Dean was the only one with real, concrete memories of Mary. Having been two when your own mother passed, you had a vague recollection of her, but nothing as real as what Dean had.
Suddenly, Angela’s eyes widened and her mouth fell open again. You looked back into the room to see what you had missed. Lucas was looking up at Dean, meeting his eyes. He grabbed another picture and held it out to your brother. Dean looked down at it then smiled at the boy. “Thanks, Lucas.”
~ ~ ~ ~
You sat in the back of the car, leaning forward and looking over Sam’s shoulder at the picture he held in his hands. Dean sped down the street, headed back towards the motel.
“Andrea said the kid never drew like that ’til his dad died,” Dean said.
“There are cases. Going through a traumatic experience could make certain people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies—” Sam relayed some Supernatural Psychology 101, but was cut off by Dean.
“Whatever’s out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow?” He asked. Sam started to respond, but Dean continued his thought. “I mean, it’s only a matter of time before somebody else drowns. So if you got a better lead, please.”
“Alright,” Sam relented. “We got another house to find.”
“The only problem is, there’s about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone,” Dean complained. You reached forward and took the picture from Sam, moving it so Dean could better see it.
“See this church?” You asked, pointing to the building in the foreground. “Bet there’s less than a thousand of those around here.”
“Oh, kid thinks she’s so smart,” Dean mocked. You smirked.
“Only ‘cause I am,” you responded triumphantly, sitting back in your seat and setting the picture down next to you. Sam chuckled at the two of you before looking at Dean, shifting the mood of the car when he began to speak.
“You know, uh, what you said about mom—you never told me that before.” Dean kept his eyes on the road ahead.
“It’s no big deal,” he replied, voice monotone. He looked over at Sam when the younger brother refused to look away and grimaced. “Oh, god, we’re not gonna have to hug or anything, are we?” Sam smiled but shook his head, finally turning away from Dean. The two of them remained silent, though, and you decided to break the tension.
“Aw, look at college boy, all in touch with his feelings,” you teased, reaching forward to push on Sam’s shoulder. “You’re turning it into a real chick-flick in here.” You sat back and smiled when your brothers started laughing; your job was done.
~ ~ ~ ~
It had taken a little over half an hour to find the location from Lucas’s drawing, but your assertion had been correct and the three of you had found the white church and, subsequently, the yellow house with relative ease. You had opted to stay in the car this time, letting Sam and Dean go investigate this part of the puzzle. You didn’t have a good feeling about what they were going to find, and after your encounter with Bill, you thought it best to stay back, lest you start getting emotional. Sam and Dean were back in the car within twenty minutes and as always, were quick to fill you in on their discoveries.
“Okay, this little boy, Peter Sweeney, vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow,” you summarized, looking between the two of them.
“Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?” Dean nodded, eyes on the road in front of him as he drove down the street, on his way back to the Carlton house.
“And Bill—the people he loves—they’re all getting punished,” Sam continued.
“So what if Bill did something to Peter?” Dean asked, connecting the dots in front of you.
“What if Bill killed him?” Sam specified.
“Peter’s spirit would be furious,” you said. “It’d want revenge. I mean, it’s possible.”
You were back at Bill’s house minutes later. The three of you got out and looked to the dock, only to find it empty.
“Mr. Carlton!” Sam called, looking around. Dean looked back to the water and spotted Bill in the boat, going out into the water.
“Hey, check it out,” he said, getting you and Sam to follow his gaze. The three of you ran down the beach and onto the dock, calling after Bill.
“Turn the boat around! Come back here!” you yelled, your brothers calling out similarly. Bill only looked back at you before turning his head and speeding up. Seconds later the boat shot out of the water, flying back towards the dock. You jumped back at the sudden explosion of water. The boat landed upside down on top of Bill and, almost instantly, both disappeared under the water.
Synopsis: You couldn’t save the girl. It hits you pretty hard.
NOTE: Short and sweet
MASTERLIST
.
Dean’s the one to grab your arm when you get inside the bunker. You stop cold at the top of the stairs, keeping your eyes fixed straight ahead. You don’t try to pull away, experience had taught you that Dean won’t let go until he’s got what he wants.
“C’mon kiddo, it wasn’t your fault,” he rumbles, as if the words are going to erase the loop in your head, playing the same scene. You, the werewolf, the young girl who still had a life to live. “Y/N.”
You don’t move. “Let me go, Dean.”
His grip, if anything, tightens. “Y/N, you can’t let it get to you. There was nothing you couldn’t done-“
“You aren’t John,” you spit, and you want it to hurt him because you’re angry and guilty and you’re so goddamn stupid. “Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do. I could’ve saved her, I should’ve been able to save her, Dean, and I let her die instead. That’s on me.”
“It’s not,” he tries to insist, but his grip slackens and he lets you walk down the stairs.
You refuse to acknowledge the reason he does so. It’s because he knows you’ll seek him out later, once it’s hit you fully just what happened. You’ll seek him out, because you’re weak and pathetic and you can’t even save one girl.
You walk all the way to your room without registering a single step.
You think at one point, Sam calls your name.
You ignore him, just like you ignored Dean’s shout of your name when you’d knocked his bag off the table when he’d tried to stop you from isolating yourself one more time.
Your room is hollow, like you, and you stand in the middle do the floor for a while, just breathing the silence and the stillness. You want to be as plain as your walls, as unfeeling as the greyscale paint job.
You’re so sick of not saving people.
You don’t want to dwell on it yet, and there’s blood on your skin, so you move to the bathroom in a daze, your feet barely making a sound. Your boots are covered in mud, so they leave stains on the floor. You can’t bring yourself to care.
It takes too much energy to strip down, but you do it anyway, just for the sake of being clean. You stand under the water and watch the red disappear down the drain. You wish blame could wash away that easily.
You spend a long time under the warm jets of water, finding solace in the pressure on your skin. You feel like it cleanses you, makes this all a little more bearable. You stand there until you can’t bear to be there anymore, then you turn the water off and simply stand for a moment longer.
For a second, just a second, you hear the girl’s dying screams in your ears.
Then it’s nothing but a heavy, pressing quiet again and you hurry into fresh undergarments, loose sweats and a plain shirt.
You walk back into our room and lie on the bed, your dripping hair causing damp spots on your back and the bed sheets. It makes your head cold, but it also soothes your headache, so it’s a sacrifice you can make.
There’s a knock on your door, and you know in a heartbeat that it’s Dean.
“I brought food,” he says quietly, opening the door. He has a tray in his hands. There’s a plate with plain fries and a cup of apple juice. It’s your comfort food. “I thought it might help.”
You nod and let him place the tray in front of you. “Thank,” You rasp, and say no more.
Dean tuts softly. “Your hair is still dripping wet. You’ll catch cold.” You shirt and start picking at your fries, so Dean huffs slightly and shuffles away, reappearing moments later with a dry towel and your hairbrush. “Move over, you big lug.”
Mindlessly, you shift forward and he clambers onto the bed behind you. He drapes the towel over your head childishly, cackling like it’s actually funny. You don’t say anything and he gives up, just starts towelling your darker locks to get rid of the excess moisture. “When I started hunting with Dad for the first time,” he says, starting to run your brush through your hair very gently. “I missed a shot. Because of that, a little boy got badly injured. He died because of his injuries a few days later. Dad ripped me a new one. Told me I’d never be a hunter if I couldn’t shoot straight.”
You hum noncommittally, and Dean tugs on your hair playfully.
“For weeks, the only thing he’d let me do was shoot cans on a fence,” he continues. “I hit every one. Dead center. He still didn’t let me stop. He said, ‘Dean, you’re going to live with that boys death for the rest of your life. You’re going to feel it in every shot. Make them all count.’ He was right.”
Dean starts braiding your hair, and you start properly eating your fries instead of just picking.
“What was his name?” You ask in a whisper. “The boy?”
Dean finishes the braid. “Kyle. His name was Kyle.”
You chew on your lip in thought before saying, “The girl I failed today. Her name was Alex.”
Dean stands up and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “I know,” he answers, and that’s that. “Now,” he says, gathering your tray. You’ve eaten most of the fries and drained the juice. “I’ll take this out, and bring back Sam, yeah? We can watch a movie.”
You nod. “Yeah okay.”
Dean gives a half smile, and bends forward and presses another kiss to your forehead. “Good girl,” he breathes.
“Dean,” you say as he walks out the door. He pops his head back in. “Thanks.”
Imagine being the youngest Winchester and Sam and Dean don’t know what to do when you’re on your period.
“Guys, I think I'm going to have to sit this hunt out.”
Sam gave you a strange look, “What're you talking about?”
You gritted your teeth, your ears flaring red, “I just can’t this time.”
“We’ve taken on vampires before, what's different this time?” Dean asked, frowning at you across the table.
“Really, it's not a big deal, I just can’t do vampires right now-" you insisted, more than reluctant to admit the truth of the matter.
“Is something wrong, [f/n]?” Sam’s expression was turning concerned.
“They'll smell me coming,” you finally gritted out between your teeth, cheeks flushed pink in humiliation.
Dean blinked and frowned, “What, are you hurt or- oh.” Realization dawned over his face and his eyes widened. “That.”
Sam seemed to have come to the same conclusion. “Yeah, sure, feel free to sit this one out then. Is there, uh, anything you want us to get while we're out?”
Your face felt like it might burst into flames with the power of your embarrassment, “Can you pick me up a pack of pads?”
Request: Hi I was wondering if maybe you could do a rewrite of the episode faith were instead of dean getting Tased the reader does? If not that’s totally fine also.
Pairings: Dean x sister!reader, Sam x sister!reader
Word Count: 1,010
Dean’s Age: 26
Sam’s Age: 22
Reader Age: ~16
A/N: This is the final part of the rewrite of episode 12 of season 1, “Faith”.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
You and your brothers pulled up in front of the white tent once again.
“That’s Layla’s car,” Sam said, “she’s already here.”
You clenched your jaw and shook your head, “yeah.”
“Y/N…” Dean trailed off, turning around to look at you.
“You know, if Roy would’ve picked Layla instead of me, she’d be healed right now.”
“Y/N, don’t,” Dean warned, but you kept going.
“And if she’s not healed tonight, she’s gunna die in a couple months,” you were pissed with the situation.
“What’s happening to her is horrible. But what are we gunna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself, Y/N – you can’t play God,” Sam tried to convince you. Instead you opened the door of the car and got out without a word.
The three of you silently made your way around to the back of the tent. Dean pulled the tarp aside slightly and you could see Roy talking to the small crowd, bringing Layla up to the stage.
“Where’s Sue Ann?” Dean asked. You looked around quickly but didn’t see her anywhere.
“House,” Sam stated. You turned and walked quickly.
“Go find Sue Ann, we’ll catch up,” Dean said, motioning for you to follow.
“What are you -?” Sam started, but Dean held out his hand and kept walking. As you rounded the corner of the house, you saw the cops who kicked you out of the tent earlier.
“Hey!” Dean called, making them both turn their heads. “You gunna put that fear of God in us, or what?”
Dean hit your arm lightly and you both took off as the cops chased you towards the back of the house. You and Dean zig-zagged through a couple RV’s, crouching behind a larger one. Dean slowly stood up, trying to peek through the driver’s side window. A large dog shot up from behind the window, barking and growling.
“Whoa!” Dean shouted as you jumped back. Dean pulled your sleeve and pushed you towards the ladder on the side of the van. You climbed up and stayed low on the roof, Dean following.
“Psycho mutt,” one of the officers said as the dog continued barking. You watched them walk away, then sat up slightly, glancing at Dean. He gestured for you to head back down. As you walked through a row of cars, the lampposts above shut off one by one. You looked up, then at your brother. He let out a breath and nodded for you to keep moving. You turned around and came face to face with the old, pale man from when you were healed. The reaper.
“Dean,” you said, swallowing. You took a couple slow steps back, gripping onto Dean’s jacket.
“What? What is it?” Dean asked, confused.
“It’s back,” you said softly. The reaper reached up and grabbed the side of your face, sending a shooting pain through your head. You groaned out and clutched Dean’s arm.
“Y/N!” Dean shouted. The reaper’s grip remained firm.
“Find her!” You grunted out, falling to your knees. Dean hesitantly took off as you cried in agony. Your vision blurred and you gasped for breath, groaning and writhing. Suddenly, the reaper let go. You swayed backward slightly and coughed, regaining your breath and sight. You stayed on your knees, holding your chest. Dean jogged up beside you and placed a hand on your back. You took a couple deep breaths and nodded, using his hand to help you up. Sam was a couple feet away and pinched his lips together. You walked towards the Impala, leaning against her frame.
“You okay?” Sam asked.
“Hell of a week,” you responded, glancing at them both.
“Yeah,” Dean agreed, opening the back door for you, “alright come on, we should get going.”
You sat on the motel bed, tugging loose strings off an old t-shirt.
“What is it?” Sam asked as he tossed your Dad’s journal into his bag. You glanced up at him, then at Dean.
“Nothing,” you said, looking back down.
“What is it?” Dean repeated the question. You poked your tongue out of the corner of your mouth subconsciously and glimpsed back at them.
“We did the right thing here, didn’t we?” you asked, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Of course we did,” Sam responded.
“Didn’t feel like it,” you muttered, continuing to tug on the strings. There was a knock at the door.
“I got it,” Sam said, opening it. “Layla, hey. Come in.”
Layla slowly walked into the room and you stood up. It was awkwardly quiet.
“So, um…where are you guys going?” Layla asked.
“Oh, don’t know yet. Our work kind of takes us all over,” Dean answered, earning a nod from Layla.
“You know, I went back to see Roy,” she said, looking at you.
“What happened?” you questioned ignorantly. Layla shook her head and sat at the edge of one of the beds.
“Nothing,” she said, tears in her eyes. You sat next to her and Dean leaned against the table, Sam lingering in the doorway. “He laid his hand on my forehead, but nothing happened.”
“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely, “I’m sorry it didn’t work.”
“And Sue Ann,” Layla continued softly, “she’s dead, you know – stroke.”
“Yeah, we- we heard,” you cleared your throat, glancing quickly at your brothers.
“Must be rough,” Dean said, “to believe in something so much, and have it disappoint you like that.”
Layla smiled sadly, “I’m okay. I guess if you’re gunna have faith, you can’t just have it when the miracles happen. You have to have it when they don’t.”
“So, what now?” you asked.
“God works in mysterious ways,” she said, placing a hand on your forearm. She stood up and made her way to the door.
“Hey,” you called, stopping her. “Um… You know, we’re not much of the praying type, but…we’re gunna pray for you.” You looked at your brothers who both nodded. Layla smiled with tears in her eyes.
“Well, there’s a miracle right there,” she said, turning around and walking out the door.
Request/Summary: just once, you’d like to go out and have fun - like everybody else
Pairings: sister!winchester x sam, sister!winchester x dean
Words: a lot like 2145 ish
Warnings: tiny bit of swearing, mentions of underage drinking, bit of sexual harassment & bit of violence
Specific time/Important info: reader is a teenager, my entry for @winchesters-favorite-girl ‘s 31 days of halloween challenge - october 27, ‘sneaking out’
i’ve never really wrote anything like this before so it isn’t the greatest thing in the world but hey ho i tried
You had a strange relationship with Halloween. On one hand, it was a time to have fun and eat candy. On the other, it didn’t feel quite right to see people dress up as the monsters you knew weren’t quite as harmless as the people wearing the costumes. But you tried to think less about the latter, and more about eating all the chocolate you could get your hands on.
This year was no exception. Like always, a group of kids in your year at school were holding another halloween party for the entire grade. Like always, you wanted to go, and be with your friends who went every year, and eat too much sugar that’ll make you vomit, and listen to music that’s too loud, and pretend to be normal so you can just fit in. Like always. Dean didn’t have a problem with it. But like always, Sam refused to even consider letting you go.
“Sammy, please. C’mon- I’ve got straight As at school, I never go against you, I always help do the research for a hunt. Do I not deserve this one night? I promise I won’t do anyth-”
“No.”
“But Sam, you say this every year. And every year I do what you ask, I just want this one time to h-”
“I said no.”
“Please, Samm-”
“Y/n. You can either stop this and go about your day, or you can carry on arguing and stay in your room for the rest of the day. The choice is yours.” He left the library mumbling something about ‘teenagers’ as you turned to your left, dragging a hand to rub the back of your neck. Sam wasn’t usually like this - in fact, it was only really in October when he got this way. Every year near Halloween, his research into local cases got ten times harder because of all the pranks and fake stories spread around towns. You couldn’t blame him for being a little more stressed out than usual.
“Enjoy the show, De?”
“Honestly, I had a great time.” Your brother smirked as you dragged yourself to the chair next to him. “You know, he’s just worried about you, Y/n/n. Neither of us want anything bad to happen to you.”
You looked at your brother. “No- I know, I get it. It’s just.. I mean, you of all people should get where I’m coming from.” You paused slightly. “Wait. You are on my side, aren’t you?”
“You already know I am.” You looked at him hopefully. “But you know he’ll never let me convince him to let you go tonight.”
You frowned slightly. “It was worth a shot,” you started to get out of your chair.
“However, you may or may not feel so sick that you have to stay alone in your room all night,” you looked at your brother like he had two heads, “and I may or may not take Sam out to pick up some food at 7:30, so there may or may not be 15 minutes tonight when nobody but you is in the bunker, and there may or may not be somebody stopping you from doing whatever you so wish to do.”
You looked at your big brother with weary yet thankful eyes.
“I’d have wanted to do the same thing at your age. And we both know I’m not necessarily the best role model for shit like this. Just stay safe, alright? No funny business with anyone, you hear? And, for the love of God, don’t drink any alcohol while you’re there.”
You raised your eyebrows at that last one.
“I’m serious - I know how rich that sounds coming from me. But please, Y/n.”
“You have my word.”
As you hurried out of the library, you shot an extremely grateful “Thank you!” at Dean. You didn’t have the time to stay - you had an outfit to figure out. Besides, you didn’t want to infect Dean with your sickness.
19:27
…
19:28
…
19:29
…
19:30
Each minute was slower than the one before it. What felt like hours had barely been seconds; it didn’t matter now, though. You were in your outfit (you ripped up an old shirt that Sam had given you so you could be a gore-less zombie), Sam and Dean were currently in the Impala, and your friend was on her way to pick you up. You were about to spend a night surrounded by your friends and dancing to your favourite songs. What could go wrong?
A lot.
A lot could go wrong. As you stood down the street from the party, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, you gripped tightly onto your brother’s shirt. Sam was right. Deep down, you knew he would’ve been since you first mentioned your plans for tonight. But you just wanted this one time to prove him wrong, to prove that you could be responsible, to prove to your friends that you were just like them.
The party had been fine when you first got there. Yes, there was alcohol. No, you didn’t drink any of it. Although you wanted to fit in, you wanted to keep you promise more. You filled a red solo cup with diet coke and entered the room of sweaty teenagers and overpowering music. You and your friends found a fairly empty corner and danced with each other. For once, you were actually having fun. Were. Everything was going fine at first, but you couldn’t help the fact that all the underage drinking around you was making you feel quite uncomfortable. You obviously knew it’d happen, and it wasn’t the drinking itself that made you feel uneasy - it was how it made some people feel like their actions were okay.
Teenage boys + a seemingly bottomless cup? Not always the greatest combination. Some of them weren’t so bad - in fact, the group dunk guys in the middle of the room screaming the lyrics to Beyonce’s ‘Single Ladies’ only improved the night. What made it worse, however, was the boy (whose name you didn’t even know) who thought that it’d still be a good idea to grind on you after you politely, and then maybe not so politely, asked him to stop over and over and over again. You attempted to step around him to get to the bathroom. He didn’t like that.
He grabbed your chest. “Where do you think you’re going, babe?”
Your eyes grew wide and you shoved him off of you. Anger poured into your veins and you couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. He smirked. Without thinking twice, you brought your foot up to his shin and rushed past him. You should’ve listened to your brother.
Feeling like you were trapped in a labyrinth, you eagerly pushed past everyone. You needed to get out into the fresh air and away from whoever the boy was. When you got through the front door, you were met with a sparsely crowded front yard which left you slightly relieved. At least if he followed you, he couldn’t do anything. Although there were fewer people outside than in, anything he did would be a lot more obvious - he wouldn’t have the guts to do it.. right?
Wrong. He stormed through the door almost straight after you and his face reflected something that was anything but happy. Fuck. He squared up to you, trying to make himself seem as intimidating as possible. It worked. You didn’t want them to, but your hands began to shake as soon as you looked the stranger in the eye.
“Think you’re funny? Doing that in front of everyone?” His words slurred so badly that you struggled to piece together what he was saying. You opened your mouth to try and formulate a response, but the wind was knocked out of you before any noise could leave your lips. Pain simultaneously spread from your cheek and your gut and you doubled over. ‘All of this,’ you thought to yourself, ‘because I didn’t want to dance.’
He left almost instantly. Not because of guilt. Not because of shame. But because a friend had called him back inside because he was ‘missing out’.
You were disgusted. You wanted to cry, scream, shout at the people watching. You wanted to, but you didn’t. You couldn’t. They’d just say you were overreacting. So you left.
You walked as far as the street would take you, until you could no longer hear the music from the house. You reached in your pocket, pulled out your phone and dialed Dean’s number. When he picked up, you kept your voice as calm as possible whilst you told him the name of the road and the small store you were stood in front of. He asked what had happened - his big brother instincts instantly taking over - and he knew you were lying the second you opened you mouth. You were about to hang up. “J-just please, don’t tell Sam.” You pressed the red button.
The sight of Baby pulling up tipped you off the edge. The tears you’d tried so hard to keep back fell down your face. In seconds, Dean was out of the car and engulfing you in a hug.
“I’m so sorry, De. I promise I-I didn’t drink, it wasn’t my fault.”
“Shh, sh, y/n/n. It’s okay.” He was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
“He heard the call.”
You turned your head to the Impala, and sitting in the passenger seat was no other than Sam Winchester. Your heart dropped further into your chest and more tears spilled from your eyes.
You got into the car, pulled your knees to your chest and refused to make eye contact with anyone. The silence surrounding you lasted until the end of the street.
“Tell us what happened.” The voice was emotionless.
“Sammy,” Dean could clearly see that you were distressed. As much as he wanted to know what had happened and why you were in such a state, he was aware that right now probably wasn’t the best time to ask.
“What? She’s big enough to go against the one thing I asked of her, so she’s big enough to tell us why she’s upset.”
“Sam-”
“Dean.”
You glanced at the older brother and saw that his knuckles were turning white. “Sam, I get that you’re pissed. I know that I shouldn’t have encouraged her to go and I know that you’re angry. But shut the hell up. Y/n should have listened to you, but she didn’t and there’s nothing you can do to change that. Our sister is obviou-”
“He came over to me. I-I don’t even know his name, but he was drunk,” you interrupted their argument, “a-and he started touching me. I didn’t like it so I told him to stop. B-but he wouldn’t listen.”
The car was deadly silent.
“I-I kicked him, hard. In the shin. And I ran away from him but he followed me and he, h-he was angry. He shouted at me and slapped me and punched me and” you couldn’t hold it together anymore. Voice cracks turned into sobs, tear drops became floods. By the time you’d finished talking, Dean was parking the car at the bunker. You chanced a look up at Sam, fully expecting him to be staring straight ahead. His eyes were locked on you, his mouth parted slightly. Your brother’s eyes were full of pity and sorrow, and still a little bit of anger.
“I’m so, so sorry Sammy.”
Dean lifted you up, kissed your head, and took you inside. He tried to take you to your room; you refused. You didn’t want to sleep yet - your mind was still racing. You asked if it was okay for you to stay in the library for a couple of hours, and he said yes. Before he put you down, he held onto you for a few moments. Despite not making a sound, you heard every word he wanted to say.
You didn’t sit alone for very long. The other Winchester knew where you’d be and decided to sit next to you. You weren’t mad. You didn’t know what you felt, but you knew you weren’t upset with your brother. He’d just been trying to help you and you just assumed that you knew better. Your hand rested on the table silently, and his reached up to join it. You couldn’t help the way it flinched away, in something that was almost like fear. You could almost feel your brother’s heart crack next to you. You hated this. You hated the way you were too scared to talk. You hated the way you felt some sort of fear towards your brother. You hated the way you had become so weak in such little time.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry, too.”
damn this is so rushed and i feel like i ruined it even more with the ending but i had no idea what else to put bc my other ending idea just felt even worse but y’know what we’re gonna roll with it, thank you so much to everyone who read this far & thank you to @winchesters-favorite-girl for letting me take part in your challenge :)
