IT’s a what!? Another Supernatural FIC! YAY! This was just gonna be one part, but the word count got carried away. Whoops! And so now it is a two part fic.
*I do not own Supernatural*GIF not mine*
Platonic Dean and Sam X Reader
Word Count~2300
Warnings: Supernatural gore. Swearing. Cancer. Family death.
Summary: What happens when you find out that everything you thought you knew was actually wrong? You decide to find your biological father, even if it means leaving the white picket fence life behind for good.
THIS WILL BE A TWO-PART FIC. THIS IS PART ONE.
Silence. That was the one thing you craved more than anything in this moment. Stuck in grim Eastern Washington, in the middle of nowhere in a middle of a rundown barn about to fall over, surrounded by screaming people and snarling Vampires, the noise was overwhelming. But you couldn’t focus on that, you had a job to do.
Swinging your machete around, you sliced off another head. “Hurry! Get out!” You shouted at the terrified hostages that the Vampires had been using as blood banks.
The civilians ran past you, helping each other get out of the rundown barn. you kept your focus on the enraged Vampire nest that was trying to take off your head.
“You took away our meal. Now you’re gonna have to pay Hunter.” You grinned darkly as the Vampire tried to threaten you. You were too hardened to let it get to you.
“Bring it on, Twilight.”
In a matter of minutes, the fight was over. The last of the Vampires ganked. You stood panting over the last body, covered in blood and dirt. As you walked back to your 1968 Pontiac Firebird you thought back to how you ended up embroiled in this supernatural life.
*2 years before*
“Mom..? Why are you crying?” You walked into your mother’s room, seeing her sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to dry her tears.
She gave you a watery smile before beckoning you over to sit next to her, “Honey, I love you so much. I tried my best to give you a normal life and all that you could need to survive in this world.”
You reached over and squeezed her hand, “Mom, you’re scaring me.” You knew she had been going through a rough patch. You had noticed her lack of appetite and she had been having more accidents, running into things and bruising easily.
Your mother looked down, fresh tears trailing down her face, “Honey, I have cancer.”
Cancer, Cancer, CANCER!
The world froze as the word thundered through your head. Had you heard her right? “Mom?”
“Oh Honey, come here.” She pulled you in for a hug, as you broke down sobbing. She rubbed her hand on your back, pressing kisses into your [h/c] hair, “Shhh. I know honey, I know.”
You pulled back, “Isn’t there something? Chemotherapy?”
Your mother smiled gently at you, reaching up to wipe away a few tears, “I’m afraid it’s too late for that. At this stage of Ovarian Cancer, there isn’t much they can do for me.”
You jumped off the bed, suddenly angry at your mother, at the world. “No! You can’t leave me! You can’t! You’re all I have!”
Your mother watched you pace, patiently, hands folded in her laps. Her tears were silent as she watched you battle with yourself and the world. Finally, she stood up as well and caught your arms with her hands. You couldn’t help but notice how frail her grasp was.
“Honey, I don’t want to leave you, believe me, if there was another way. But God has decided that it’s my time and this is the way I make my exit. But I did everything I could to prepare you for the world by yourself.” She wiped a tear away, her eyes the same color as yours, catching your gaze, “All those karate classes, hunting trips. Survival training sessions. You are ready to face this world.”
You were confused, “What do you mean? How did those activities prepare me?”
Your mother let go and lowered herself to pull something out from under her bed, sighing she handed you an old worn oak box. “There are several things I have kept from you through the years. Your father,”
You interrupted, giving your mother an odd look, “He died when I was little in a fire.”
“No [y/n]...he’s alive. He’s a hunter.”
You gasped, looking down at the box in your hands. Your father was alive? “A Hunter? As in deer?”
Your mother gave a heavy sigh, sitting down on the bed again. Her skin was becoming very pale and you could see the weight on her shoulders. “You don’t have to tell me right now mom, you need to rest.”
Your mother pushed your hands away as you fretted over her, setting the box on the bed. “No, [Y/n], I’m fine. I need you to know this before I leave you. Your father is a hunter of the supernatural.”
You laughed, “What? That’s not a thing.” But your laughter faded and your smile turned into a frown the longer your mother stared at you in all seriousness. “Wait...really?” You whispered.
“Yes honey, there are things out there in the dark. All those stories about things that go bump in the night...they aren’t stories, they are really out there and they are dangerous. That’s why men like your father dedicate their lives to protecting the rest of us.”
You were numb. It was so much to take in. Your mother was dying, your father was alive and there were monsters in the world. “Why wasn’t he apart of my life then?”
“That was my doing in part, his line of work is dangerous. Anyone connected to him is a target to those monsters. He and I thought it best if we separate ways once we realized that I was pregnant. It’s been years since I saw him.”
You stared at your mother with new eyes. “So all those lessons growing up, you were preparing me to protect myself from those monsters, weren’t you?”
Your mother gave a weak laugh, “Even though your father wasn’t around, I was not about to let my only child go out into the world defenseless.”
“Why. Why tell me about the monsters at all?”
Your mother dropped her gaze to the box that was next to her now. “Because once I’m gone, I want you to have some family left. And I want you to know what you will be against in finding your father.”
“Where is he? What’s his name?” You shot questions at your mother.
“Look in the box, it will give you some answers, I’m really tired Honey.”
You immediately felt sorry for pushing her, you helped her climb into her bed, “Okay mom, I love you.”
“I love you too sweetie.” And with that you took the box and walked back into your bedroom.
*Present Day*
Your mother had passed away a week later. The box had revealed an old black and white photo of a young man with a name written on the back in your mother’s handwriting. Robert Singer. Your father’s name. There were also several newspaper clippings of news from around America. You had looked over them trying to see the significance before realizing that they all were about a mysterious stranger saving people from various accidents. You deduced that the accidents were actually monster related.
Once your mother passed and you took care of her affairs. You had packed up a duffel bag and hit the road. Over the next couple years you had learned how to track and kill various supernatural creatures. Keeping a journal filled with notes about each one that you encountered.
All the while tracking down your father. Every Hunter’s bar you asked about a Robert. But no one knew anything.
All this played in your head as you drove back to the closest city, to the motel you had been staying in while tracking the Vamps.
Pulling in to the parking lot, you were surprised to see a nice looking car parked in front of your room number. You cautiously pulled up, staying in your car, you looked around. There were two guys sitting in the car, talking.
Still wary, you climbed out of your car, fingering the gun you kept tucked in a holster at your hip. You walked to your door, opening it while keeping your ears open. You heard doors open and slam and footsteps coming up. You opened the door, took a step forward, quickly spun and grabbed the closest man, that happened to be the shortest and pinned him up against the wall while pointing your gun at the giant man behind him.
“Woah, easy there.” You continued to apply pressure with your arm against the man’s throat, catching his bright green eyes.
“Who are you? What do you want?”
The giant brown haired man who you had your gun trained on him, raised his hands and answered, drawing your attention, “I’m agent Osborne, that’s my partner, Agent Zepplin. We are looking into the disappearance of the residents of this city, we were told you were a newbie, blown in a few weeks ago.”
I laughed, bitterly, keeping my gun trained on the guy, “Try again, Hunter.”
I felt the man under me tense up at that word. “Wait, are you a hunter?”
I reluctantly let go of the short green eyed man, but kept my gun at the ready. I pulled them both inside my motel room, closing the door.
“Okay, you guys want to tell me who you really are now?” I jutted out a hip, not in the mind frame to play games. Still covered in splatter of blood from the Vamps.
The green eyed one stepped forward, “My name is Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam. We came to deal with the Vampire Nest we heard was setting up camp here.”
You chuckled, finally putting away your gun. The Winchesters, you had heard about them in your travels. The brothers were a beacon for trouble and monsters. You walked past them to the small sink and mirror. Wetting a wash rag and starting to wipe away the gore from your face and arms you looked back at the brothers. “You boys can just turn back and go home now, I already dealt with the nest. Trust me,” I smirked at their confused looks, “They won’t be bothering anyone anytime soon.”
The tall one, Sam, managed to look impressed, “You took on the nest by yourself? How many Vamps were there?”
You thought back, “It was hard to keep track while fighting for my life, but I figured about fifteen. The largest nest I’ve ever come across.”
Dean whistled low, “Wow, and you took them on all by yourself. You are an impressive woman.”
You didn’t miss the gleam in the Winchester’s eyes. Rollin yours, you hopped up onto the counter, “So you boys can run back home now.”
The brothers glanced at each other and you frowned at the silent communication they seemed to share. Why weren’t they leaving?
Sam looked back over at you, “You are fairly new to the hunting gig aren’t you? We haven't heard about a lone woman hunting. Mind telling us your name?”
You sighed, of course, they didn’t think you could handle yourself. Being a weak woman. You snorted, flipping your hair over your shoulder you glared at the pair of grown men in your room, “My name is [Y/n]. And that’s all you need to know. I can handle myself. As proven.” You gestured to your bloodied shirt. “So don’t feel like you need to get protective. Bye bye boys.”
You made shooing motions with your hands. But they stayed put. Dean tilted his head, squinting at you, “Sam doesn't she..?”
“Yeah I thought so too.”
“What do you think is the reason?”
“We can ask.”
You interrupted their weird conversation, “Woah hold on, what are you guys talking about?”
Sam sighed and turned back to you, “You look a lot like a friend of ours. We’re trying to figure out why.”
You jumped down and walked over to your duffel bag, “You know you could just ask me. Instead of speaking in code right in front of me.”
Sam stared into your [e/c] eyes and said softly, “Do you know Bobby?”
You tilted your head, did I know a bobby? I heard about a hunter by the name Bobby, but never met the man. “I’ve heard of him. But I’ve never met him. Why? Is he the guy I look like?”
The thought crossed your mind that he could be your father, but you shook it off. Your father’s name was Robert and as far as you were aware, after looking for him the past two years, the man was either dead or hiding in a hole somewhere.
Dean finally spoke up, from his place near the window where he was peeking out at your car, “So that Firebird is yours?” He sounded arrogant so you decided to let him have it.
You cocked a hip, duffel bag over your shoulder, “As a matter of face its a 1968 Pontiac Firebird, all original parts. And you drove here in a 1967 Chevy Impala. By the sounds of it, the engine has been tweaked slightly, so I would say not all original parts, but rather scraps put together. Am I right?”
You glanced between the brothers, feeling pleased as Dean looked awed and Sam looked puzzled.
Dean seemed to get something in his head and he bounced towards you as you headed out the door, “Hey why don’t you come with us to meet Bobby. He runs an auto parts yard and I could show you some more classics.”
You thought it over as the brothers followed you out of the motel room. You opened your trunk, displaying your array of weapons, throwing you duffel on top. Slamming the trunk closed, You leaned against your car, eyeing the two hunters.
“I guess. I don’t have another hunt lined up anyways. I’ll follow you guys then?”
They nodded, the one called Dean looking way too excited for a road trip. Taking a deep breath you climbed into your car, starting it up, wondering what the hell you had just agreed to.
I won't be sending cards for AT LEAST another 10 days (there's a thing. Its where I get stuff.) So if you want one there's still time to get me your address.
