More DWImpala67 (SamW1983 Part 5)
SUMMARY-Ever felt like you were in the wrong time and place? What if you were right and someone was t trying to get you home.
CHARACTERS-Reader, Dean
A/N-Sam returns in the next chapter. Which also happens to be the end of this story.
You unlocked the door, yanked it open, grabbed his arm and pulled him into your apartment. As you made sure the door was locked you leaned your head against it and took a deep breath. You tried to control your temper as you turned to face him and you might have managed it except for the cocky smile on his face. That look caused you to explode.
“What the hell, Ackles,” you ranted stalking towards him, “I don’t know why you and Jared decided to punk me but I want some answers now! What made you two decide to pick on me? I’m just some fangirl.”
By the time you finished you were right in his face, poking your finger into his chest. If you’d have been six inches taller you’d have been nose to nose with him. In your anger you weren’t intimidated by the height difference. The fact that he was looking down at you with a smirk on his face just pissed you off more.
“Calm down, (Y/N),” he said, “I’m not who you think I am.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” you yelled, “You and your pals seem to have…”
You stopped yelling abruptly and your mouth snapped shut as you realized his voice was deeper and rougher than it sounded in the convention videos you’d watched. Up close and focused on his face you could see his eyes were greener, more emerald than apple. Slowly you started backing away.
“Who the fuck are you,” you whispered.
He gave you a mocking bow and replied, “Dean Winchester.”
When he straightened up you could see in his eyes that he believed what he was saying. That scared you into backing up a few more steps, “You can’t be. He’s not real.”
“Sweetheart, I’m just as real as you,” Dean said softly as if he realized how much he’d scared you.
He touched your hand with warm, calloused and very solid fingers, “See real.”
You closed your eyes willing this to be a dream but when you opened them he was still there, “One of us is crazy.”
Dean laughed, “Not the first time I’ve been told that, not even close. Let’s eat and I’ll take you to someone who can explain everything.”
Eat, right you’d promised him dinner if he showed up. In a daze you went back to the kitchen and dished up another plate for him. Tucking two sodas from the fridge into the crook of your arm you went out to the table.
“Sorry, no beer,” you managed a weak smile at him.
He smiled back at you, “No problem. Smells good.”
The two of you ate, quiet except for the noises that Dean was making. You wished you had the nerve to record and post it because talk about food porn. To keep yourself from laughing you finally asked the question at the top of your mind.
“Why me, Dean? Who am I to you,” considering how scared you were your voice only cracked slightly.
Dean looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were asking that question, “You’re a hunting partner, my friend and as much my sister as Charlie.”
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. At least you weren’t worried about him hurting you, he called you a friend and Dean Winchester would never deliberately hurt a friend. You were both much more relaxed after that. Dean even helped with the dishes, washing while you dried and put them away. Then he led you outside and towards a black ‘67 Impala.
You smiled at the car, appreciating the lengths he’d gone to for this. As you headed towards the passenger door you brushed your fingers over get fender.
“Hey Baby,” you found yourself whispering into the cool spring night. Then an image flashed through your mind: you in the back seat with a bloody cloth pressed to one side of your head and a voice begging you to hold on. You stopped for a second with your hand on the door before you opened it.
When you got into the car Dean was smiling almost sadly at you. He pulled out of the lot without saying a word, turning on the radio after a couple of blocks. AC/DC blasted from the speakers at a volume that made you flinch. When you reached to turn the volume down Dean trapped your wrist.
“Rule number 1: Driver picks the music,” he said
“Shotgun shuts their cake-hole,” you finished laughing, “It’s the volume not the music.”
He nodded withdrew his hand allowing you to turn the volume down a few notches. Absently, you began to sing along while you watched the world go by through the window.
Dean watched (Y/N) out of the corner of his eye as she sang along with AC/DC. It was something that he hasn’t heard in too long and missed more then he would ever admit. He just hoped the plan the he, Sam and Jo had come up with would work.
The Usual Suspects- @darkcastersruletheworld @black-shad0w-w0lf @imagine-that-supernatural @ladysaraharper @thedepthsoffandomminds @kbrand0 @soaringeag1e @supernaturalismalife @iwantthedean @jojomonsterbunni @little-red-83 @growleytria @ashleymalfoy @daydreamingintheimpala @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @halespecterwinchester @driverpicksthemuusic @torn-and-frayed @isometimeswritesomethings @whyisleepacesoamazing @mist-and-echoes @kaylas-obsessions @aerisawriting @letsgetoutalive @divinitycas @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @jodyri @soab1967 @busybee612 @appleschloss @kazchester-fanfiction @oriona75 @deandoesthingstome @littlegreenplasticsoldier @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @sammy-moo @for-the-love-of-dean @mrswhozeewhatsis @kittenofdoomage @sandlee44 @apeshit7x @loveisallineed @rewritingcanon @fast-times-in-the-impala @wereallbrokenangels @wonderless-screwup @leviathanslovedick @dontsassmecastiel @see-you-then-winchester @cherrie-liquor @deascheck
As always to get on or off the list of Usual Suspects drop me an ask or a message.
