summary: sister!reader includes Sam in some of her skincare routines.
pairings: Sam Winchester x sister!reader
word count: 730
a/n: a little fluffy fic to balance off my last two angsty ass fics.
You had always leaned towards the tomboy side compared to other girls, it was kind of written out for you to be, growing up around men. The only girly thing you can remember from childhood was having one single barbie doll that Dean had bought from the dollar store. Other than that, it was always matchbox cars and plastic dinosaurs.
When high school started, you did however become interested in some makeup and skincare. Not just because of the trends, but because it was the one thing that set you apart from your brothers. Everything else that formed your sole being was pretty much tied to Sam and Dean. The way you dressed, your language, your interests...
It felt nice having one enjoyable girly thing. To feel done up and pretty with some makeup during the day, a nice touch on top of your flannel and jeans. And to feel a fresh and clean face at the end of the day.
It was always hilarious seeing your brothers faces if they'd happen to walk into your room in the middle of you doing gua sha. Or to stroll past you in the hall with your skin covered in a blue face mask. There was usually a brief explanation to follow their confusion.
You stood in front of the bathroom mirror applying your pink under eye masks, the rejuvenating ones. You reveled in the satisfaction the cooling sensation gave to your skin. Just then Sam came by and stopped in the doorway, tilting his head.
"Hmm." His brows creased.
"Hmm, what?" You asked, head tilted upwards.
"Why you got eye patches on?" He motioned curiously.
You huffed in amusement. "They're not eye patches, it's under eye masks."
"Isn't that the same thing?" Sam now fell confused.
"No, cus don't eye patches go over your eyes... These are for the skin under your eyes, cus it's thin and sensitive." You clued.
"O...kay, so what do they do."
"...is there something I can help you with?" You wondered as he lingered.
"I came to ask you something, but now I can't remember." He sighed.
"Well, these ones are rejuvenating. I have a whole pack of other ones though. You... wanna try?" You gestured, expecting him to laugh and turn the other cheek.
Sam stood there for a minute contemplating. "Sure." He blurted out, stepping beside you in front of the mirror.
Surprised, you excitedly showed him the range of colors. "Okay, so the gold ones are illuminating, blue are moisturizing, pink is rejuvenating, and green ones are revitalizing. I have yet to try them all, but which ones do you want?" You fanned out the packages.
"Uh, which ones do you think I need...?" Sam's eyes glared at them all.
"I'll give you the gold, you could use a boost to those dark circles." You began to unwrap the foil.
"What-?"
"Hey, you asked for my opinion." You laughed. Sam placed and smoothed the jelly patches onto his skin, looking in the mirror with a flat expression.
"So, this is another one of your beauty regimens, huh?"
You nodded.
"Is this like, the eye equivalent to those patches you put over your nose?"
"Sort of, but those are pore strips so they take stuff off. These do not." You explained as you began dotting moisturizer onto your chin.
"I don't get it." He sighed.
"You don't have to- wait, feel my forehead." You pulled Sam's wrist up.
"What, are you sick?" He turned to face you.
"No, feel the smoothness." You fixed his hand. "Oh- ohh. Pretty soft, yeah."
"And that is why I do it." You smiled.
"Gotcha. Sooo... how long do I have to leave these on for?" Sam pointed to his shiny gold masks.
"15 minutes."
He let out a breath of air, then Dean walked by. Stopping and backing up when he saw two figures in the small powder room.
His face curled in bewilderment when he caught sight of Sam. "What's this?"
"Oh. Illuminating eye masks." He said with a straight face.
Dean raised his eyebrows before walking away. "I shouldn't have asked."
Sam turned around at the sound of you laughing. "C'mon, y/n"
"Whaat? You're honestly pretty cool for doing this." You smiled, peeling your masks off.
Sam smiled to himself. "Jokes on Dean, he won't be achieving an illuminated, glowy look tonight." You both laughed.
I understand the impulse to make girl!Sam look like Sam but girl carries over to most Winsister ideas but I am once again putting my Winsister OC thought on blast:
Imagine the absolute brain worms that John and the brothers would have if they had a sister who looked just like Mary. Like make her face claim Amy Gumenick levels of looks like Mary. I love their fucked up relationship dynamics getting thrown around with a sister and all the gender weirdness of that now imagine a sister who literally looks like their ultimate victim and their ultimate reason.
"She was so scared. I couldn't help; I couldn't do anything to stop it,” Mr. Dutton whispered in regret, staring off into space between Sam and Dean who were questioning him. His eyes flicked back up to them. “And I've talked to the police, and I've talked to the medical examiner and no one can explain it."
I shined my flashlight around every inch of the master bathroom that Janet Dutton died in, only half listening to their conversation as I searched for anything out of the ordinary that could give us a reason to believe this was our kind of job. "Well, that's why they put the call in to us Mr. Dutton."
"But the CDC, that's disease control, right? What do you think; it's some kind of virus?"
"We're not ruling out anything yet,” Dean said. I began searching through their medicine cabinet, pushing aside prescription bottles and bandaid boxes, but nothing was in there, either. “Mr. Dutton did Janet have any enemies?"
There was a beat of silence behind the bathroom door as Mr. Dutton processed the question. "I'm sorry?"
"Anyone that might have a reason to hurt her?" Sam asked this time. I rifled through the tall pantry, shuffling through the neatly folded towels, baskets of small perfume bottles, extra toothbrushes, hand soap. Absolutely nothing of interest.
"Wait, what are you saying? That somebody...poisoned her?"
"I'm just saying we have to cover every base here."
"Well, I mean, what kind of poison? You think a person could have done this?”
I nearly gave up on the search before I spotted the double cabinets beneath the sink. I squatted down, pulling them open where sure enough, a hex bag was stuffed between the pipes. I sighed, pulling it free and placing it into my pocket.
“Would anyone want to?" Sam was asking as I returned to the room. Mr. Dutton was standing now, looking horrified.
"What?! No, no, there's just no one that could've—" He paused, looking off into space again in thought.
Dean raised his eyebrows at us before waving a hand in front of his face. "Mr. Dutton?"
Whatever trance Mr. Dutton was in, he seemed to snap out of it quickly. He blinked twice, looking back at us. "Uh, everyone loved Janet."
Yeah, totally not weird and suspicious at all. Sam nodded once. "Okay. Thank you very much; I think we've got everything we need. We'll get out of your way now."
Sam, Dean and I stepped out onto the wet porch of Mr. Dutton’s house. "That dude seem a little evasive to you?" Dean asked.
"I don't know I was under a sink, pulling this out,” I said, tossing it to Sam who caught it before it could drop to the ground. "Hex bag."
"Awww gross,” Dean groaned as Sam opened it up in his palm.
"Yeah, there are bird bones, rabbit's teeth. This cloth is probably cut from something Janet Dutton owned."
Dean shivered at the thought as we kept walking. Sam looked over to me. "So we're thinking witch?"
"Uh, yeah, and not some new age wicked water douser either. This is Old World black magic, I mean, warts and all,” I said as we slid into the car, the rain coming down harder now.
There was a beat of silence in the car before Dean turned in his seat toward us. "I hate witches." Sam and I chuckled at the rant we knew Dean was about to go on, the same one he always went on when we dealt with witches. "They're always spewing their bodily fluids everywhere. It's creepy, you know, it's down right unsanitary."
"Yeah, well someone definitely had it out for Janet Dutton."
"Yeah, someone who snuck into that house and planted the bag,” Dean said, glancing up at the home. “So what are we thinking, we're uh, looking for some old craggy Blair bitch in the woods."
I shook my head, "No it could be anyone. Neighbor, coworker, man, woman—that's the problem, they're human, they're like everyone else."
"Great,” Dean exasperated. “How do we find 'em?"
I thought about it, the brutal way in which Janet died: choking on her own blood after all of her teeth fell out, seemingly out of nowhere. "This wasn't random; someone in Janet Dutton's life had an ugly axe to grind. We find the motive—"
"We find the murderer,” Sam finished. Dean nodded once before peeling away from the curb.
I sighed, tapping my fingertips against the door with my chin in my hand, people watching the patrons walk in and out of the pub just across from our stakeout spot. “I’m telling you guys, give me five minutes in that bar to hustle some pool money-”
“El, we’re working,” Sam reprimanded. I looked over Dean’s shoulder toward Mr. Dutton’s car that we’ve been tailing for the past four hours. He was parked in an empty lot after we’d just followed him through a drive thru.
“Yeah, and it’s thrilling,” I said sarcastically as I let out a puff of air, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don’t think anything’s going on here, you guys.”
“Wait,” Sam shushed me and just seconds later, Mr. Dutton’s car flew open as he fell to the ground. Dean immediately put the car into drive, barreling across the two lane road and skidded to a stop just inches from Mr. Dutton who was kneeling on the ground, gasping for air.
"Check the car!" Dean shouted to Sam and I. Sam ran toward the driver’s seat as I pulled open the back, reaching shoulder-deep under the seats, my hands searching blindly.
"Hurry up!" Dean called from behind us where he was kneeled beside Mr. Dutton who was trying to cough but couldn't, his wheezes for air becoming more and more desperate.
"Got it!" Sam suddenly shouted, holding the hex bag up. He grabbed his lighter, catching the hex bag ablaze before dropping it to the road.
"Come on.” Dean lifted Mr. Dutton off the ground as he grasped his chest, finally able to breathe again. "You okay?"
Mr. Dutton looked at us with wild eyes. "What the hell is happening to me?!"
"Someone murdered your wife and now they're trying to kill you, that's what's happening to you,” Sam said.
"That's impossible! There's no way—"
"If we hadn't have been following you, you'd be a doornail right now. Now who wants you dead?" Dean demanded.
Mr. Dutton looked at us as if we were crazy but wracked his brain for an answer, "I-uh..."
"Come on think."
"There's a woman—uh—"
"A woman, okay?"
"An affair—a mistake, she was un-balanced, she was blackmailing me and I put an end to it a week ago."
I raised my eyebrows at this. An affair would make sense, why this woman would want Janet dead. "What's her name?"
Mr. Dutton looked at me, confused, "Wha–what could she have to do with—?"
"Paul! What is her name?"
Mr. Dutton paused, watching us. “Amanda...Amanda Burns.”
Paul Dutton cracked pretty fast when it came to giving us Amanda’s address. I quietly picked the lock of the front door, leading the way into the dimly lit house. I entered the living room first, keeping my gun held high as I rounded the corner where a brunette woman in a black dress laid face down over a glass coffee table. I tilted my head at the blood pooled beneath her. "That's a curveball."
"Yeah."
Dean approached her, using his gun to rotate her wrists to the side as he confirmed what I’d suspected: "Three per wrist, vertical. She wasn't foolin' around."
Sam held a hand over his nose and mouth as he lowered himself to the floor beside the table. I followed his line of sight to a knocked over spell book and a plate of rotting food, maggots crawling in and out of it. There was a board with a sigil painted across the front, a knife, and a denim shirt beneath it all that I assumed was Paul Dutton’s. "Yeah, looks like she was working some heavyweight evil here."
"Oh god!” Dean shouted suddenly. I drew my gun towards Dean who’s eyes were wide, staring at the rabbit suspended by his feet from the ceiling behind him. I sighed, dropping my gun. “Fuckin' witches! Seriously man, come on!"
"Guess we know where she got the rabbit's teeth from,” Sam said. The rabbit was long since dead, its once-white fur now matted with dark blood.
"Well, Paul sure knows how to pick 'em huh? It's like Fatal Attraction all over again,” Dean said, looking back at the rabbit, his face falling. “And why does the rabbit always get screwed in the deal?! Poor little guy."
"You know what I don't get?” Sam said, making Dean and I look to him. “If she was so bent on revenge, why do this?"
I shrugged, "Well, she got Janet Dutton, thought she finished off Paul, decided to cap herself and make it a spurned lover's hat-trick...I mean, this doesn't exactly look like the TV room of a bright and stable person, you know?"
Sam kneeled down to the floor, inspecting beneath the coffee table. "No, but then...there's this.” Sam stood, throwing me a small object, wrapped in brown leather.
"Another hex bag? Come on!" Dean groaned, shaking his head. "Looks like we got a hit, huh? A little witch-on-witch violence?"
"I guess,” I said, tossing the hex bag onto the coffee table.
Dean pulled out his phone, dialing 911. "Hi, I'd like to report a dead body...309 Mayfair Circle...My name? Yeah, sure my name is—” Dean cut himself off, snapping his phone shut. “Why are witches ganking each other?"
Sam sighed, "I don't know, but I think maybe we got a coven on our hands."
"You must have a green thumb,” Sam said as we approached Elizabeth’s house where she was out in her garden, digging in the dirt. This was our first suspect, someone Amanda had been friends with for years.
“Excuse me?” She said, looking up at us.
“Getting these herbs to grow out of season like this, quite impressive,” Sam said before stopping. “I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself first. I'm Detective Bachman, this is Detective Turner and Detective Thornton.” He motioned to each of us as we flashed her our fake badges.
“Hi-ya,” Dean smirked.
“We're following up on Amanda Burns' death, going around the neighborhood and talking to neighbors, stuff like that,” I said.
Amanda stood, watching us in what I believed to be feigned confusion, “But didn't she— I mean...she...killed herself...right?”
“Maybe, maybe,” Sam said, vaguely. “We heard you were friends with the deceased right?”
Elizabeth shrugged, obviously anxious at the questioning. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Did you have any idea about her practices?”
She furrowed her eyebrows at my question. “I'm sorry, what kind of practices?”
“Well see, her house was littered with Satanic paraphernalia.”
“A regular Black Sabbath,” Dean added.
“No, the— but she was an Episcopalian.”
“Well, then we're pretty sure she was using the wrong Bible,” Dean chuckled.
“Elizabeth, you alright?” A voice asked from behind us. We turned, two women coming up the driveway. They rounded us as they stood on either side of Elizabeth.
“I'm fine...Renee, these are detectives,” Elizabeth hesitated. “They say Amanda was— she was practicing-”
“I'm sorry detectives; you can tell that Elizabeth is a little bit upset,” the blonde woman said, running a soothing hand down Elizabeth’s arm.
I narrowed my eyes at them. Something was definitely fishy about these three. “Of course, Miss…?”
“Mrs. Renee. Van. Allen,” she said, punctuating each part of her name. “Would you like me to spell it for you?”
I raised my eyebrows at her, biting my tongue. “I'll get by, thanks.”
“This Amanda business has been hard for Liz,” Mrs. Renee Van Allen said. She tightened the grip she had on Elizabeth’s arm. “For all of us.”
Elizabeth seemed frightened to even speak for herself as the other brunette woman spoke up this time, “Yeah. I mean, you think you know a person.”
“Well, I guess we all have secrets don't we?” Dean said. I could tell him and Sam both had their suspicious about them, too.
“Well, thanks,” Sam said, maintaining intense eye contact with Elizabeth that she couldn’t return. “We'll be in touch.”
After leaving Ellie at the motel to research more into what we didn’t already know about witches, Sam and I went out to see if we could find anything else on these women. It was nearly pitch black as we made our way back.
“Well, I'm already sold on that Elizabeth chick. Did you see that victory garden of hers?” I said as I drove. “Belladonna, wolfsbane, mandrake, not to mention that little flinch she threw when we mentioned the occult.”
“Well, she's definitely had a good run lately, gone up a few tax brackets; won almost too many raffles. Kinda thing a little black magic always helps with,” Sam said as he read through the local paper and other files we were able to scrounge up. “I don't think she's alone either. I looked into 'Mrs. Renee Van Allen'. She’s won almost every craft contest she has entered in the past three months.”
“Yeah, a regular Martha Stewart, huh? Except for the devil worship, I'm thinking that was the coven we met back there, minus one member,” I said, shaking my head. “Amanda was clearly going off the reservation. What do you think, they killed her to keep up appearances?”
“Seems like an appearance kind of crowd, don't you think?” Sam said.
“Yeah...if they killed the nut-job, should we uh, thank them or what?”
“They're working black magic too, Dean. They need to be stopped,” Sam said, folding up the paper.
I paused, glancing over to him as I suddenly remembered mine and Ellie’s conversation. “'Stopped' like stopped?” Sam shot me a look saying he was serious. It was never like him to think that way. “They're human, Sam.”
“They're murderers,” he corrected.
Pushing aside how out of character it was for Sam, it seemed justified to me. I looked back to the road, satisfied. “Burn witch, burn.”
Then, the car began to rattle and sputter. I looked down, confused, as I took my hands off the wheel. “What the hell?”
The headlights began to flicker. One second, they were off, and we were drowning in darkness and the next second they turned back on, there was a figure, illuminated in the golden light. The car rolled to a stop right in front of a woman, her arms crossed over her chest. I felt for the Colt in my jacket, gripping it by its hilt. We stood from the car, the woman unmoving.
“Ruby?” Sam said in confusion. I raised my eyebrows, looking back at her.
“Sam, listen to me, there's no time,” Ruby urged.
"For what? What are you talking about?"
"You have to get out of town."
"So this is Ruby, huh? Never had the pleasure,” I said, bringing the Colt out and aiming it at her.
"Dean!"
"I was hoping you'd show up again."
Ruby only watched me, unfazed. "Point that thing somewhere else."
"Hahahaha! Right,” I said sarcastically.
She sighed, looking back to Sam, "Sam, please. Go. Get in the car and don't look back."
"Why? I don't understand."
"Hey, hot stuff, we can take care of a few kitchen witches, thanks,” I said, making Ruby roll her eyes as she turned her attention back to me.
"I'm not talking about witches, you jackass. Witches are whores,” she spat. “I'm talking about who they serve."
I furrowed my eyebrows, looking to Sam for answers when his face fell. "Demons. They get their power from demons."
"Yeah. And there's one here, now."
I scoffed, "Oh, what, you mean besides you?"
"Sam, it knows you're in town and it's gonna come after you and it’s way more than you can handle."
I looked to Sam who suddenly seemed worried. I widened my eyes. "Oh come on, what is this, huh? Please tell me you're not listening to this crap!"
"Put a leash on your brother, Sam, if you wanna keep him."
"Dean, look, just chill out."
"No...no! She's messing with your head, god knows why, that's who they are!" I shouted, waving the gun in her direction. I was not going to let Sam make me feel like the crazy one.
"I'm telling you the truth,” Ruby interfered.
"And I'm telling you to shut up, bitch."
"I'm sorry, why are you even a part of this conversation?!" She yelled, stepping closer.
"Oh, I don't know maybe because he's my brother, you black-eyed skank!"
"Oh, right, right. You care about your brother so much. That's why you're checking out in a few months, leaving him all alone?"
My heart sank, praying Sam hadn’t heard her, but in my peripherals I could see Sam whip his head toward me. I tightened my hand on the gun. "Shut up."
Ruby knew she hit right where it hurt. She leaned forward, only inches from the gun now. "At least let me try and save him, since you won't be here to do it any more."
"I said shut up!"
I brought my finger back on the trigger, but Sam was faster as he bent my arm upwards, shooting a round into the sky. I opened my eyes, looking around, but Ruby was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it!” I shouted, shaking my head, turning away from Sam. I could feel his eyes on me.
“What did she mean, Dean?” He nearly whispered.
I ran a hand down my face before turning to him, acting like I hadn’t heard him when in reality I was buying myself time to think of an excuse. I didn’t want him to find out like this. I didn’t want them to find out at all, not until I was already gone. “What?”
Sam took a step closer. He was angry. “What did she mean...when she said you were checking out- what did she mean!?”
“Sam, c’mon, I have no idea!” I lied through my teeth.
Sam’s face shifted into realization. “What did you do, Dean?”
I couldn’t meet his eyes. Guilt corroded my insides. Guilt because I’d been lying to them, guilt because I know what I was going to put them through would kill them. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Sam...”
“You took her deal, didn’t you?”
I slowly looked back to him, fear clouding over his face. There was no use in lying to him anymore. I’d done that too much already. “I couldn’t let her go, Sam...” Sam’s shoulders fell in defeat and shock. “You said it yourself...we couldn’t let her go.”
“I didn’t mean take her place, Dean!” He shouted, his breath coming out in smoke against the cold air. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say a thing. “So...what, now we have to lose you? Our plan this whole time was to come up with something so none of us would die! Did you forget that part!?”
“I didn’t have a choice!” I shouted back. “It was me, or her and if not one of us it was you, Sam! There was no way out of it so I...” I stopped myself, lowering my voice. “I had to do it. I have to protect you two.”
Sam shook his head, tears brimming his eyes. “Does Ellie know?”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat before shaking my head. Sam nodded once, looking away from me. “She can’t know, Sam. She can’t.”
“You can’t ask me to do that.”
“Well, I am,” I said. His eyes flicked to mine. “You have to promise me. You won’t tell her. Promise me that, Sam. Please.” He clenched his jaw, walking back toward the car before slipping inside. I looked up at the dark sky, wishing Hell would open its flaming mouth and just pull me under now.
The silence in the motel room was almost serene. I plopped myself onto the motel bed, a cloud of stale stench floating into the air from the ancient comforter. After nearly six hours of research on witches, my hand was cramping and my ass was sore from the motel’s hard wooden chairs. I stretched my legs out, clicking the small TV set on just as the door flew open, Sam and Dean arguing loudly.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Sam said as he came in behind Dean, slamming the door. I rolled my head backwards onto the wall, annoyed, switching the TV back off.
"What?! What the hell was I thinking?" Dean shot back, yanking his jacket off his shoulders and throwing it roughly onto his bed. "She's a demon, Sam. Period. Alright? They want us dead, we want them dead!”
“What happened?” I asked, watching as they moved across the room in a flurry, Sam hot on Dean’s trail.
They ignored me as they continued to go at each other. "Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead."
"Yeah, well she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook."
"No one's stringing me along! Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she's useful."
"No! We kill her before she kills us."
"Kill her with what? The gun she fixed for us?"
"Whatever works."
I closed my eyes, absentmindedly rubbing at the side of my abdomen, chocking the dull pain up to the two day old takeout I’d eaten out of desperation.
"Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives,” Sam retorted, making Dean roll his eyes as he went to the bathroom, splashing water on his face. “Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and – and moves ahead. It's not so simple, we're not – we're not just hunting anymore...we're at war."
I peeked an eye out, glancing at them in the momentary silence. “Are you guys done-”
"Are you feeling okay?" Dean interrupted, making Sam shake his head as he sat on the end of our bed.
"Why are you always asking me that?"
"Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters. And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people. You know, it used to eat you up inside."
"Yeah, and what has that gotten me?"
My eyes bounced between the two of them, rubbing rhythmic circles over my stomach. I was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened while they were gone.
"Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the fuckin' car and fuckin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that shit."
The pain in my stomach began to grow more intense. I sat up further on the bed, hoping my position would relieve some of the pressure, to no avail. I pushed my palm against it, wincing.
"Wait, so– so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?" Sam asked, looking up at Dean who was tossing the contents of his pocket onto the table.
"No, I'm not mad, I'm— I'm— I'm worried, Sam— I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself.”
"Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice."
Dean narrowed his eyes at him, stopping his movement. "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"Look, Dean...things are changing. And the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after...” Sam paused, him and Dean sharing a strange look. A silent conversation that I couldn’t quite place. “Then I gotta change."
"Change into what?"
"Into you,” Sam said after a beat of silence passed. “I gotta be more like you."
I sat up further on the bed, holding my side as I leaned forward, my face contorting in pain. Dean looked over at me as if he’d just noticed I was there. "What's going on with you?"
"I don't know,” I groaned as the pain quickly grew sharper until I gasped, feeling like I was being stabbed from the inside. “Something's wrong—"
"Ellie?" Sam said quickly, rounding the bed and kneeling in front of me. He gripped my shoulder.
"Son of a bitch—" I groaned, wrapping my arms around my midsection.
"Ellie, hey,” Dean said this time.
When I opened my eyes they were both in front of me, watching me worriedly. I panted, the pain just becoming more and more intense as I thought of the only solution I could come up with: "The coven...it's gotta be the coven."
I reached a hand out toward anyone and anything, grasping for air before finding Sam’s jacket, twisting it in my hand before they quickly pushed off the floor, turning the room upside down for the hex bag that had to be in here somewhere.
Sweat began to bead down my body as the sound of cabinets opening and closing filled the room, chairs being overturned, and our things being dumped from our duffle bags. I coughed, leaning forward as I felt something climbing up my throat. I dropped to the floor between the two beds, gagging as blood spurted from my mouth and down onto the linoleum floors. I quickly got onto my hands and knees, trying to clear my airways before my arms collapsed under me, sending me sprawling to the floor.
I didn’t have enough energy to pull myself up. I watched Sam above me as he threw the blankets off the bed and dug his knife into the mattresses, calling to Dean, “Did you find it!?”
"No,” Dean said as he came beside me, rolling me onto my side. "Sam, what are you doing?"
I opened an eye between fits of coughing up blood to where Sam was counting the bullets in the Colt, not saying a word to either of us. He threw the motel door open and all we could hear was the Impala’s engine roar to life.
"Sam!” Dean called after him, but once we could no longer hear the car he turned back, cursing Sam under his breath. “It’ll be okay. It’s okay.”
Blood continued to poor from my mouth and onto the floor, the pain only becoming more unbearable by the second.
I made it back to Elizabeth’s house in nearly half the time it should’ve taken me. I kicked down the front door, barging in, gun drawn at the coven standing around a seance table in the middle of the living room. They let out shrieks of surprised as they quickly stood with their hands in the air.
"Let her go." I couldn’t waste a second. I knew Ellie wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.
"Let who go? What are you doing?” Renee asked, obviously startled. “You're insane, get out!"
"Look, if you know about me, then you know about this gun. You're killing my sister. Now let her go,” I warned. “Get away from the altar."
I sat hunched over on all fours as Dean sat beside me, unsure of what to do except pray that Sam was doing something useful. Then, the motel door was kicked inward. Dean and I whipped our heads toward the door where a woman with long blonde hair sauntered in.
“Ruby?” Dean questioned.
"Ahh, you’re Ruby? You wanna kill me? Get in line bitch,” I groaned, blood smeared across my face. Ruby came deeper into the room, making Dean stand in front of me.
“Get back, Ruby.”
“You want me to save her sorry ass or not?”
Dean looked back down at me as I spit a wad of blood onto the floor. Suddenly, I was being lifted up by my shirt and thrown onto the bed. I kicked her away from me before she pinning my arms down with her knees and poured black liquid into my mouth. I gasped around it, but I instantly began to feel better. Dean yelled something at her, making her climb off of me. I sat up, the excess liquid spilling down my chest. I looked to Dean, and then her in confusion.
Ruby was panting, glaring at me. “Don’t...call me bitch."
The women weren’t giving me much to work with and I was pretty sure Ellie that if Ellie weren’t dead already, she would be soon. I gripped the gun, trying to clear my head as I analyzed the women, recalling what I knew about them.
"Okay, maybe it's not you,” I said, beginning at the front of the line with Elizabeth. I trailed the gun to Renee next, “—or you.” That left me with one option: Tammi Benton. The one out of the group we hadn’t been able to dig up much on. I cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe it's you."
Tammi’s eyes widened as Elizabeth and Renee looked to her in fear. "I don't even know what he's talking about. What are you even talking about?!"
"I mean, all of you, everyone in your little coven, you've all had runs of good fortune. Newsworthy good fortune. Except for you, Tammi,” I said, the pieces suddenly clicking together. I stepped toward her. “Now tell me, why is that? You didn't want anything for yourself? Or is it because you're already getting what you wanted – like these women's souls."
Elizabeth and Renee’s eyes grew wider at my words. Tammi continued to stumble, "I can't- I-I'm not- I-I-I don't..." Then, she stopped. Her facial expression changed as she let her hands drop to her sides, her eyes turning pitch black. "Nice dick work, Magnum."
I brought the gun up to her, gripping it with both hands. "Let. My sister. Go."
"What's wrong? Couldn't find my hex bag? Sorry, sweetheart, but your sister’s lungs should be on the floor by now."
I ground my teeth as I lightly pulled back against the trigger and released a bullet from the Colt, but before it could reach her, the demon brought her hand up, stopping it in mid air. I watched in shock as it fell to the floor with a clank. The demon smiled. "You're in a lot of trouble, Sam."
With that, she brought her hand up, sending me flying across the room and pinning me to the far wall. I groaned at the impact, watching in horror as Elizabeth and Renee turned to who they thought was their friend.
"Tammi, what's wrong with your eyes?" Elizabeth asked.
"Tammi, what are you doing?" Renee gasped.
"Renee, shut your painted hole,” the demon snapped.
"What?” Renee said in disbelief. “I- I will— you can't— not in my house, Tammi Benton-" The demon snapped Renee’s neck then, making her instantly fall to the floor in a heap. Elizabeth slapped her hands over her mouth, muffling her screams of terror.
"Look. You got me – let the girl go,” I tried to reason.
"Wait your turn, young man,” the demon hissed and turned back to Elizabeth who was shaking uncontrollably. “Shhh...Lizzie. It’s okay.”
"You're not Tammi,” Elizabeth breathed out.
The demon had her hand running through Elizabeth’s curls. "No, but I'm wearing her meat. I had to break the ice with you girls somehow."
Her eyes were brimmed with tears. "You killed Renee."
"Renee, Amanda...” the demon listed, circling the room like a caged tiger. “That's what happens to witches who get voted off the island."
"Who are you?"
The demon chuckled. "Funny story, actually. You remember all those dark demonic forces you prayed to, when you swore your servitude? Just who did you think you were praying to?"
"This- this isn't – it can't b—"
"What did you think it was? Make-believe? Positive thinking? The Secret? No, it was me. You sold yourself to me, you pig." Elizabeth’s hands were clutched close to her chest as tears silently fell down her cheeks. "All I had to do was bring one good book to book club, and you ladies lined up to kiss my ass."
Elizabeth began furiously shaking her head. "No, no, we didn't know—"
"Oh, yes you did. You knew every step of the way, and now your ever living souls are mine,” the demon smiled. "Comments? Questions?” Elizabeth continued to stare at her silently, frozen in fear before the demon turned to me. “Hmm, Sammy Winchester, wow! Right here in our little town. You know, my friends and I, we've been looking for you."
"Why?” I said before scoffing, rolling my eyes. “Oh, right, 'cause I'm supposed to lead some piss-poor demon army."
"No, not at all. You're not our Messiah. We don't believe in you...But, there's a new leader rising in the West – a real leader,” she said, coming closer. I furrowed my eyebrows at her words. “That's the horse to bet on, Sam, the one who's gonna tear this world apart. Thing is, this demon? It doesn't like you very much. It doesn't want the competition." I watched as the demon raised her hand and I slowly began to slide up the wall, the pressure against my chest becoming heavier and heavier. I grimaced, clenching my fists. "Nothing personal, it's a P.R. thing, so, buh-bye."
The demon pressed her hand forward until it felt like my chest was going to collapse in on itself. The wall behind me began to crack, plaster and drywall falling to the floor below me. I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the impact when the front door flew open, Dean and Ellie running through, guns blazing. I let out a breath of relief at the sight of them.
Then, demon simply flicked her other hand, sending the two of them flying to two separate walls. From this angle, we could all see each other. They winced at the impact. I looked to Ellie, wondering how the hell she was even alive.
"Three for one. Lovely."
Then, there was another set of footsteps coming into the house. The demon turned to Ruby who followed behind, her hands raised. "Wait. Please. I just...came to talk."
She turned toward Ruby, looking surprised. "You made it out of the gate. Impressive. That was a bitch of a fight, wasn't it?"
"Doors out of Hell only open for so long."
"What do you want, Ruby?"
Ruby stepped closer to her. "I've been lost without you. Take me back. That's why I led the Winchesters here.”
I glanced to Dean and Ellie, feeling guilty. Dean was shaking his head, mouthing: I told you so!
“They're for you...as a gift,” Ruby said, the demon looking between her and us.
"Really?"
"Let me serve you again. I've wanted it – I've wanted you – for so long,” she whispered, making Dean’s eyebrows shoot upward.
"You were one of my best,” the demon whispered back. Ruby smiled sweetly before quickly bringing a knife up and over the demon’s head, but the demon grabbed the blade before it made impact. "But then again, you always were a lying whore."
The demon tossed the blade across the room, making it slide across the floor and stopping in front of the alter. Ruby began throwing punches at the demon’s face, grabbing her shoulders and kneeing her in the stomach. Then, the demon grabbed Ruby’s arms where they were holding her jacket, using them as leverage to slam her forehead into Ruby’s nose. The resounding crunch of cartilage filled the room. Dean, Ellie and I flinched as blood began pouring down Ruby’s face, but she kept fighting, blindly swinging her fists but the demon had the upper hand. She grabbed Ruby, punching her twice over her face before kicking her backwards into the TV, electrical sparks flying upwards.
The demon gave Ruby enough time to roll off of the shattered TV before knocking her to the floor again. Ruby panted, blood coating her face. The demon grabbed her by her jacket, lifted her easily and tossed her across the room into a bookshelf. Ruby went sprawling backwards, the shelf breaking in half as Ruby just laid there, no fight left in her. The demon sauntered toward the fireplace where Elizabeth was backed up against. She grabbed a fire poker, smirking at Elizabeth before turning back to Ruby. "You're really telling me you threw in your chips with the Three Stooges here?"
Ruby struggled to sit up as the demon swung the fire poker, striking her across the face, sending her falling back down. "Come on. Get up." The demon demanded, but Ruby stayed down. There was movement behind the demon then. My eyes flicked to Elizabeth who quietly ran to the alter on the other side of the room, pouring out a bowl of sewing needles. "I said, get up!"
Fed up, the demon threw the poker to the side and kneeled over Ruby, pulling her up by her jacket. "We've been here before, haven't we?" The demon looked over at us. "She didn't tell you? Pretty mortifying, I guess. She was one of mine. I turned her out a long, long time ago.” Ruby’s head started going limp. I watched the color drain from her face but the demon held it up to look into her eyes. “Ruby here was a witch. Of course, that was when you were human. Didn't want your friends to know that all those centuries back, you sold yourself to me? Embarrassing, I guess. But don't worry love, no secrets where you're heading remember?"
Ruby stared back at her as the demon threw her back onto the debris. The demon stood over her, reciting an exorcism. Ruby clenched her fists as the black smoke began to escape her mouth. Dean, Ellie and I trying desperately to peel ourselves off the walls but it was no use. The demon continued the incantation before she suddenly stopped, bringing her hand to her mouth as she violently began coughing.
I looked to the back of the living room where Elizabeth was sitting behind the alter, her eyes closed as she chanted something quietly that I couldn’t quite make out. We watched as the black smoke returned to Ruby’s body, but the demon continued coughing harder and harder, trying to catch her breath. Each cough made the grip she had on us looser until we each fell to the floor.
I groaned, turning to look back at the demon as she pulled her hand away from her mouth, her palm filled with dark blood and three long sewing needles. Her lips were stained crimson as she looked up, realizing what’d happened to her. She brought up her other hand, clasping it into a fist. Elizabeth’s chanting immediately stopped as she grasped her chest, gasping for air before limply falling forward onto the alter. Then, seemingly from out of nowhere, Dean came up from behind the demon, holding her firmly to his chest as he stabbed her over and over again in her side with Ruby’s knife. The demon’s face was contorted into pain as she flickered orange before dropping dead to the floor.
Ellie stood, rubbing the back of her head where she’d collided with the wall, inspecting the damage inside the house. Dean came around, helping me off the ground. We came to a stop in front of the demon who laid with her mouth wide open, her hand still curled into a tight fist. Ruby stood, wiping the blood from her nose. "Go. I'll clean up this mess."
"Come on,” Dean said, laying a hand on mine and Ellie’s shoulders, leading us to the door when I stopped, looking back over my shoulder to Ruby.
Her eyes clicked to black threateningly. "I said, go."
I was outside of the motel room, throwing our weapons into the arsenal in the trunk when the fluorescent lights outside began flickering wildly. I paused, a low humming filling the parking lot. I looked from my left to my right, trying to prepare myself for whatever the hell was about to show up. I reached around behind me for the Colt. I checked my surroundings again when I spotted Ruby a few feet away form me, her arms crossed.
I let out a small breath of relief as the lights stopped flickering. I let go of the gun. "So the devil may care after all, is that what I'm supposed to believe?"
"I don't believe in the devil.”
I raised my eyebrows as I shook my head, shutting and locking the arsenal. "Wacky night...So let me get this straight, you were human once, you died, you went to hell, you became uh-"
"Yeah,” she said simply as she turned and started walking away.
"How long ago?"
"Back when the plague was big."
I paused, really thinking about what she was telling me. "So all of 'em – every damn demon – they were all human once?"
Ruby turned back to me, "Every one I've ever met."
"Well, they sure don't act like it."
"Most of them have forgotten what it means, or even that they were. That's what happens when you go to Hell, Dean. That's what Hell is: forgetting what you are."
"Philosophy lesson from a demon. I'll pass, thanks."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "It's not philosophy. It's not a metaphor. There's a real fire in the pit. Agonies you can't even imagine."
I shrugged, "No, I saw 'Hellraiser'. I get the gist."
Ruby ran her tongue over her teeth as she rolled her eyes. "Actually, they got that pretty close. Except for all the custom leather...The answer is yes, by the way."
"I'm sorry?"
"Yes, the same thing will happen to you. It might take centuries, but sooner or later Hell will burn away your humanity,” she said. I felt my stomach flip, watching her to try to see if she were serious or not. “Every Hell-bound soul, every one, turns into something else. Turns you into us. So yeah. Yeah, you can count on it."
I could tell she wasn’t bluffing. I swallowed roughly, realizing now just how bad this was going to get. "There's no way of saving me from the pit, is there?"
"No,” she said simply and for once, I didn’t question her. “I was surprised you'd made it this far, saving Ellie and all. That was smart, what you did."
"Then why'd you tell Sam that you could save her?"
"So he would talk to me. You Winchesters can be pretty bigoted. I needed something to help him get past the–"
"The demon thing? It's pretty hard to get past."
"Look at you. Trying to be all stoic,” she cooed before clicking her tongue. “My god, it's heartbreaking."
I set my jaw, watching her. "Why are you telling me all this?"
"I need your help."
I wasn’t expecting that. "Help with what?"
"With Sam and Ellie. The way you stuck that demon tonight – it was pretty tough. Ellie’s almost there, but Sam...not quite. You need to help me get them ready – for life without you. To fight this war on their own." She turned, walking away from me again.
"Ruby!” I called after her, making her stop. “Why do you want us to win?"
She turned. "Isn't it obvious? I'm not like them. I don't know why. I– I wish I was, but...I'm not. I remember what it's like."
"What what's like?"
"Being human." I held her eyes for only a second longer before dropping them and when I looked back up, she was gone.
The three of you watched a movie, chilling on the couch and munching on some popcorn, sipping beer on the side.
Except for Sam that decided to chug two bottles for fun. You and Dean knew Sam couldn’t handle alcohol. At all.
‘I’ll be fine.’ Sam said repeatedly as he finished his forth bottle of beer for the night. He stood in one leg, balancing himself as he tried to prove that he was alright. ‘See?’
Every five minutes during the movie, Dean would ask Sam. ‘Sammy? You good?’
Sam would reply back, ‘Dean, stop asking.’
After the thirty minute mark, Sam started to act crazy and childish. For that one night that he’s drunk, you forget that Sammy is the same guy that practically lives under a rock where all he does is read boring books for fun.
You felt a pillow hit your face, followed by a giggle. ‘Sam, stop before I beat your ass.’
‘I’d like to see you try baby sister.’
‘Here goes annoying Sammy.’ Dean rolled his eyes, turning on the light and completely ignoring the movie knowing that movie time was over when drunk Sam arrives.
‘You called me what?’ Sam jumped onto Dean as he stuck his tongue out, trying to lick his face.
‘Y/N, get this giant off of me.’ Dean pushed against Sam’s face, struggling to get him off.
Laughing, you got off the couch. ‘You’re on your own bud. I’m going to bed before Sam starts messing with me.’
‘But I helped you last time, you jerk!’ Dean grunted.
Could you please write something with 1 and 2 from your second prompt list 2 with sister!reader for supernatural?
Sam x Sister!reader
Prompts -
1: “I’ll make you something, yeah?”
2: “let's get you back to bed”
Summary: based on season 15, Chuck sends the reader to purgatory.
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Your eyes were burning. You were sat in the kitchen. It was the lightest place in the bunker, the place where you felt most secure.
Curled into a fetal position with your legs brought up to your chest, your arms wrapped around them, a demon blade hung loosely from your right hand as you surveyed the two entrances, you could see both through the corners of your eyes.
You had been ignoring the shakiness that was present throughout your body, whether it be from lack of sleep, lack of food, or both. You couldn’t afford to let your guard down. That’s how you’d get hurt.
It had been two weeks since you returned from Purgatory. You have yet to talk about your experience, Dean and Cas have tried the most to get something out of you. They had been using their own experiences to try and get you to open up, but you couldn’t. It was like your mouth had been wired shut, any attempt to talk about what had happened was met with stoic silence.
You rubbed your eyes with the palm of your left hand trying ever so hard to blink away the exhaustion.
Your eyes snapped towards the entrance to your left as your big brother, Sam, stumbled sleepily into the room. You observed as he made his way over to the fridge, he pulled out some milk, closing the door he leaned against one of the counters and started unscrewing the lid.
You narrowed your eyes as he brought it to his mouth “are you seriously not going to use a glass?” you muttered. A swear left his mouth as he jumped, he looked towards you, “geez, Y/n. You scared the crap out of me” he breathed out with a hand over his heart. “Sorry” you mumbled adjusting the grip on your knife.
Sam took in your disheveled appearance, you avoided eye contact with him as his eyes scanned your face.
You knew you looked like shit, there was no point in denying it. You had barely slept whilst in Purgatory, only managing an average of three hours a week, that added on to the fact you hadn’t slept for two weeks straight was definitely beginning to show on your person.
Your eyes were bloodshot red with grey bags underneath them, your cheeks were slightly sunken in.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked.
You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the obviously dumb question, “I’m just dapper” you replied whilst bouncing your leg,
“Y/n” Sam spoke in a warning tone.
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to say?” You shot back in anger only to close your eyes tightly in regret. You looked down as you felt your shoulders start to sag, your whole body seemed to start folding in on itself.
“I’m sorry” you whispered.
“No, no it’s okay. That was a bit of a dumb question to ask” he came and sat in front of you, his back to the wall. He took in how you curled in on yourself, he took note of your body shaking.
He leaned forward and took the knife out of your hand, only for you to shoot forward and try to grasp it back “NO, I need that!” you hissed, he held it away from you.
“Why do you need it? You’re home, you’re safe. You know that you don’t need to protect yourself anymore” he spoke quietly.
“What if I'm not?!” you fired back, your eyes red with unshed tears. "What if I'm not safe! What if this is more mind games from Chuck, this is exactly the type of stuff he'd trick me with back there... Every time I slept I'd be back here only it wasn't true. You have no idea what I went through in that hell hole, Sam" you spat, tears now rolling freely down your face, creating trails as they fell.
Sam grabbed your hands and turned his body to face you, "you trust me, don't you?" he asked, you looked into his eyes and saw desperation and hurt, not hurt for the words you had said but hurt from seeing his sister in so much pain.
You nodded your head, "then trust me when I tell you that you are safe. I promise. You don't need to protect yourself like this anymore, you're home, you're safe, I promise".
You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head buried in his chest "I'm so tired" you whimpered.
He wrapped his arms securely around your shoulders, "I know, sweetheart. You can stay with me for tonight, okay?" you nodded your head, "I'll make you something, yeah? How about a hot chocolate?" he asked, you leaned back and allowed him to wipe the tears from your face, you nodded your head.
He stood up and held out his hands for you.
Once he helped you to your feet he walked you over to the table, "sit there, I'll be back in a minute" he spoke gently. You sat down and rested your head in the palm of your hands, you closed your eyes as you felt sleep overtake you.
You let out a yawn and covered your face, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of any bleariness.
"Here you go," Sam said as he placed a hot chocolate in front of you.
"Thank you" you whispered as you took a sip, it burnt your tongue, the roof of your mouth, and your throat causing you to grimace slightly.
"Will you tell Dean about any of this?" You asked as your finger circled the rim of the mug.
“Only if you want me to. I think you should tell him though, Dean’s been through this. So has Cas, they’ll be able to help you” you nodded your head.
A couple minutes later you pushed the now empty mug away from you. Your eyes were practically shutting on their own, your body was slumped forward slightly.
Sam grinned softly and stood up, he circled the table and made his way over to you, “let’s get you back to bed” he grunted slightly as he lifted you, your head lolled over to his shoulder as sleep consumed you.
You weren't sure what your brothers wanted to do for Christmas, but you had a sneaking suspicion that they weren't planning on something big, especially after Thanksgiving, but that is a story for another day.
"This one looks good." Dean said, pointing at a small tree as you, him, and Sam were walking through the rows.
"You do realize we have a four by four foot area set for the tree, right?" You replied, "This isn't a quick one day and done thing. It's gonna be up for the better part of a month."
"Hey," Sam caught your attention, "What about this one?" He pointed at a perfectly sized tree, that you loved.
"Yes!" You squealed.
------------------------------------------
Jack and you were happily putting ornaments on the tree, Mary was hanging stockings, Cas was putting up your various trinkets, Sam and Dean were silently putting lights around the bunker, and Gabriel was trying to convince you to put a picture of him on top of the tree instead of your decorative star.
"But it's perfect! I was the one to deliver the news and there's an angel on top of a lot of trees! It would be the best thing ever!"
"We are not putting a picture of you up there. Let it go." You respond.
He frowned playfully, but went back to decorating.
You walked over towards Cas, where the box that held your Nativity set was. You felt his eyes on you as you pulled the pieces out.
"Y/N, you must know those figures are highly inaccurate," Castiel noted as he saw the pale faces painted on the figurines of Mary, Joseph, Jesus, the kings, and the shepherd, "The Holy Family were from Israel, and so were the others present at the birth. None of them were Caucasian."
"I know Cas, but these have been put under a tree every year for longer than I've been alive, so I think it would be rude to not do it this year."
-------------------------------------------
After decorations were all up, everyone gathered around the T.V. as you prepared the best Christmas movie in the world, in your opinion.
"How much you wanna bet she's getting 'Love Actually' set up?" Dean whispered to Sam, just as you turned around.
"I hope not much, because I have something much better in store." You said.
The screen flicked to life, and the song started up as you sat down next to Jack in the couch.
"Christmas vacation... Christmas vacation..."
"Is everyone ready to laugh their heads off?" You laughed as the cartoon Santa appeared on screen, unaware of the pain that was in store for him.
(a/n: yes I am saying that Christmas Vacation is the best Christmas movie, as well as the funniest. That includes Home Alone, A Christmas Story, and Elf. You cannot change my mind.)
Characters: win!sister x reader, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, azazel (mentioned)
This is based on the episode. Of course I changed up some things to fit the narrative.
I’m pinned against the wall along with Sam and Dean. Azazel was crushing Deans insides until dad was able to take control and release us. Sam was able to move faster than me to get to the colt but that was when azazel took control once again. “You kill me, you kill daddy” yellow eyes growled.
“I know” said Sam as he aimed the colt at dads leg and pulled the trigger.
I crawled over to Dean as he fell to the floor and Sam went to dad as he screamed in pain begging Sam to shoot him in the heart and kill azazel. All the while Dean is begging Sam not to do it. I didn’t know what to do. I was frozen in fear while Sam was looking conflicted. I didn’t want my dad to die. He may have been pretty messed up growing up but I didn’t want him to die.
Suddenly a puff of black smoke erupted from dads mouth as the demon left his body. Dean and dad are in pretty bad shape so Sam and I helped them to the car. “Sam we need to get them to a hospital. Deans injuries are too severe!” I exclaim. Dean and I sat in the back seat and I was trying my best to clean the blood from his face. “I know, (y/n), I’m going as fast as I can-”
Unexpectly, all I could see was black. My entire body hurt and my chest was burning. I was trying to inhale but my lungs weren’t functioning. Then everything was quiet.
—————————————-
Coming to I realized I was laying in a hospital bed. Climbing out I started walking out the room and down the hall. I tried talking to some people but they ignored me so I raised my voice at them. “Hello?! Can’t you hear me speaking to you?? Hello!” I waved my hand in front of someone’s face but they couldn’t even see me.
Why is everyone ignoring me? I stopped trying to get their attention and just started roaming the hallways trying to find my brothers. As I got closer I heard a familiar voice. It was Sam. I ran following his voice while looking in each room until I found him leaning over Dean who was hooked onto a breathing machine. Dean was in rough shape and I heard Sam sniffle. Realizing how much pain Sam is in broke my heart so I walked next to him to try to bring him a little comfort.
“Dean will pull through Sammy. It’s okay.” I told him but he didn’t hear me. “Sammy?” I called to him trying to get his attention, but like those people from earlier he didn’t see me. What is wrong with everyone?
“She’s gone Dean.” He sobbed softly to Deans limp body. “Who’s gone, Sam?” I was asking more to my self than Sam, however he still didn’t hear me. “Sam! Who are you talking about?” I ask almost yelling this time. My voice cracked as I was speaking feeling the fear of what may be, yet still he doesn’t hear me. The despair in his eyes is tormenting me.
“Sam my, please look at me. I’m right here just look at me.” I and basically begged him at this point while he is grieving. “SAM!” getting a bit angry I acted on impulse and hit a cup of water to the ground which finally grabbed Sam’s attention. “Sorry sam. I didn’t meant to-“
“Dean?” He said. “What? No Sam it’s me your baby sister standing right in front of you, please look at me.” I pleaded as tears of frustration rolled down my face.
“Excuse me sir,” you turned to see a doctor standing in the doorway at the same time Sam did. “We need you to come and identify the body and sign some paperwork for her to be released to your family.”
A body? Are they talking about my body? Could I possibly be dead? I need to follow them. I need to know if they’re talking about me. Could I really be dead? I can’t be I’m right here.
Following closely behind Sam and the doctor you arrived to the morgue. While the doctor was looking for the correct locker Sam was signing some release forms. I didn’t wanna believe what I might’ve already known. Hearing the doctor open one of the lockers, Sam’s heart broke all over again seeing his baby sister’s lifeless body on the table.
In that moment of seeing my own dead body everything came back. The demon, the car, the truck. I remember getting in the car but I don’t remember ever getting out. I remember hearing tires screeching, then the agonizing pain my entire body was in and my lungs burning, and just before the darkness I hear the click of the colt.
Summary: This is part 2 of the Winchester Sister Series. Read Part 1 here. The reader has an exam but John wants her to join him on a hunt. This leads to some heavy confrontation.
A/N: To all of you who show me love every day by following, reading, reblogging and commenting, I just want to extend my deepest, most sincere gratitude. You guys mean the world to me. Thank you for your love and support.
I know it’s been a while since the first fic in this series. I promise to update as often as I can. This fic did turn out a bit more angsty than what I’d planned that I felt so upset after writing it. It does, however, sit in well with what I have planned for the rest of the series. Hopefully, y’all will like it. Do let me know what you think!
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“Dad, please try to understand what I’m saying. I cannot miss my test tomorrow. I just cannot.” you plead.
You’ve spent all of last week cramming for your AP history midterm. John had come home last night after weeks of disappearing on a hunt; something he’d been doing a lot of late, not that you had any complaints. Gone were the days when you’d anticipate John’s return from a long hunt.
The atmosphere in the house had become tense ever since Sam had brought up the idea of leaving for college. Since he’d gone, things had become far worse. John had become exceedingly short-tempered. He had become very curt with you, having still not forgiven you for not telling him about Sam’s acceptance to Stanford. He’d often rebuke even Dean for “letting” Sam run away. Dean was always patient and obedient despite John’s temper, encouraging you to do the same. You found that it was best to spend time in your room whenever John was around; not being able to tolerate the way John was treating his family.
You look at John, your eyes beseeching. You can’t believe the conversation you’re having right now. John had wanted to investigate a haunting in an old, dilapidated asylum few towns over and believed it to be the spirits of the patients. He’d wanted backup and insisted on you and Dean accompanying him. You, however, did not want to miss your history exam.
“You will join us tomorrow. That’s the end of this discussion Y/N.” John says roughly.
“Dad, I’ve spent the entire week studying. Please! I’ve worked too hard.” you beg, as tears threaten to spill.
“I DON’T CARE. I NEED BACK UP AND YOU’RE GOING!” he orders, slamming his fist on the table just as Dean enters holding two grocery bags. His bewildered eyes roam from your now-tear-stained face to John’s fuming one.
“What’s going on here?” he asks, setting down the grocery bags.
“Your sister refuses to come on the hunt tomorrow.” John states.
“Well yeah… she’s got her history test tomorrow.” Dean remarks, giving John a ridiculous look. “You didn't say anything to me about Y/N joining us.”
“I need backup Dean. We don’t know how many spirits are haunting this asylum.”
“I’ll be there for backup dad. Y/N doesn’t have to be there -” Dean prompts.
“I say she does.” John interrupts.
“Dad - Y/N has worked really hard for this. It’s her midterms.” Dean stresses.
“I don't remember asking for your opinion,” John states, glowering at Dean.
“Dad, come on-” Dean starts.
“I knew would happen. Leaving her with you, I gave both of you too much freedom. You’re too easy-going on her. She’s turning out to be just like Sam - choosing school over family. You let Sam run away, it’ll be her next!” John snarls, shouting over Dean’s words.
“He didn’t let Sam run away!” you cry out, goaded by John’s speech.
“Sammy didn’t choose school over family. He chose school over hunting! And Dean didn’t know anything about him leaving. When he did get to know, he tried to stop it.” you finish, glaring at John.
“Y/N!” Dean starts, realising that the argument needs to be dissipated before it gets out of hand. “Stop. Just go to your room.”
His words are ignored as John directs his anger at you.“BUT YOU KNEW!” he shouts, spit flying from his mouth. “You knew and you didn’t do a damned thing to stop him. You betrayed this family.”
“Dad, Stop this! Y/N! Go to your room!” Dean insists, but his words are drowned out by John.
“You’ve gotten quite out of control – helping your brother leave, talking back to me like this. Staying with Dean has spoiled you - letting you think you can get away with anything.” John snarls on.
“Well if you cared so much dad, maybe you should have stuck around!” you retort, balling your fists.
“Y/N! THAT’S ENOUGH!” Dean shouts, stepping between you and John.
“What did you just say to me?” John asks, menacingly. His face is red and you can see a vein popping in his neck. You’ve seen John apoplectic before but it’s never been directed at you. Sure he’s yelled at you many times but now, his rage is terrifying. You take a deep breathe, deciding that you might as well get this over with.
“You heard me -” you start, jeeringly but are interrupted by Dean turning to face you, blocking out John.
“Y/N. GO. TO. YOUR. ROOM!” Dean stresses; his tone final.
You’re about to retaliate but one look at his eyes dissolves your words into silence. The green eyes in front of you are flared with anger, but you can read the silent plea in them. His temper isn’t directed at you. You’re crossing a line with John and he doesn’t want you to get into more trouble. You hesitate, your lower lip trembling. You don’t want to leave Dean to take John’s wrath all by himself. You start to speak but knowing what you’re going to say, he stops you.
“Y/N, Go!” he says, giving you a sincere look. He places his arm on yours and gives you an encouraging squeeze.
“Okay.” you resign, wiping off a tear. “I’ll go.”
“No! I’m not done with her.” John hisses, his words laced with fury.
“YES, YOU ARE!.” Dean interjects, angrily. “You and Y/N are done talking dad!. Right now, you and I need to talk.”
You take one last look at Dean. You bite your lip, feeling terribly guilty. He nods at you reassuringly as you leave. You walk away, actively avoiding John’s glare. You consider hiding by the stairs to eavesdrop but decide against it. You’d get yourself and Dean into so much more trouble if you were caught. Dean has just stood up for you. You might even have caused him more trouble by talking back. With a heavy heart, you trudge up to your room. You shut the door and sink to your knees sobbing.
