“Hey, (Y/N)?” Called Dean, forcing you to look up from your novel, “I’ve got a lead on a few Vamps about 40 miles from here. Sammy and I are going to gank them and we’ll be back before too late.”
“Can’t I go with you? I can wait in the car and just come if you need me or something, or I can scout it out or-”
“No, absolutely not.” His voice was gruff and confident, it broached no argument. Besides, you were on temporary hunting ban. You had gotten pretty whipped by a Wendigo, broken bones in your left fore-arm, detrimental blood-loss, 49 stitches between your shoulder and lower back, and a sore ass. Well, that last part was from Dean, he had punished you just as soon as you had been patched up. ‘One for every stitch’ he had said.
“Be careful!” You called after him.
“Don’t you worry about me, Baby Girl.” Of course you were going to worry about him. “Hold down the bunker for me okay? I’ll see you tonight.”
“Okay Daddy.” He gave you a stiff squeeze and a kiss on the forehead before heading out, you looked at the clock 9am.
11.30am: You finished your novel and made lunch.
1pm: Checked your phone, nothing.
4pm: Possibly Found a case, still nothing.
6pm: Made dinner for yourself and saved some for the boys, still nothing.
9pm: How late is ‘too late’.
11pm: They should be back.
12am: Something is wrong.
1am: Something is definitely wrong.
By 2 am you’ve packed a bag and set up your GPS to link up to Dean’s cell phone signal. You dig around in the rubbish drawer of the kitchen, searching for your keys. You hadn’t driven the mustang since you started hunting with the boys. Why the hell did the boys have so many seemingly random keys? Finally, you find the key. You sling the bag over your shoulder and head outside, tugging the tarp from the mustang. Tossing the duffle in the back, you climb in the front and lock the GPS onto the signal. Not Far, an hour away at most.
You had thought you’d be tired by now, given the time of night, but no, all the adrenaline in your system kept you more than awake. You pulled up about twenty feet behind the Impala and hopped out, dipping your knife in Dead man’s blood. You carry the knife in your good hand and a small UV light in the other (a trick you had taught the boys). Slowly, you creep around the side of what you assume was an old, abandon hotel. It looks like it had never been occupied really; construction materials still litter the lot.
As you make your way through the desolate building, you find the first body, strung up in a shower, blood draining from now empty veins in her arms and throat. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a Djinn. You hear a commotion above you, and immediately break into a sprint, hitting the stairs in a matter of seconds. As you reach the next floor, you take a moment to calm your breathing before kicking through the door, only to be pinned to the floor.
The knife scatters to the floor and the light rolls back into the stairwell. You twist and roll out from under the monster, feeling a painful tug in your shoulder as a few of the stitches rip out. You pull a second knife, this one just plain silver, and slash at your attacker.
“Ah shit!” he spits, having been nicked by the knife. But that sounded like-
“Dean?!” you gasp. Please let it be Dean.
“(Y/N).” He responds after a moment of quiet.
“Dean? You okay?” You hear from further down the hall. Sam. “Is it another Djinn?” You knew something was fishy with that earlier scene.
“Yeah, I’m good.” He stands up and gives you a hand up, helping you gather your equipment from the floor “(y/n) is here.”
“(y/n)?!” Sam sounds shocked, you’re sure you look shocked when he shines the bright light in your face too. “Holy Shit. What are you doing here?”
“I thought you guys were in trouble.” You answer. “It wasn’t a vamp was it? It was Djinn?”
“Yep, it’s clear now though.” Sam responds, lowering the light. “I think your shoulder’s bleeding again though.” Yeah, no shit.
“Did you drive the mustang?” dean asks, not needing an answer. “Give Sam the keys, we’ll take the impala.”
“I can drive.” You try to argue, knowing you’re going to get an earful on the way home.
“No.” Dean growls back. “You can’t.” You roll your eyes and begrudgingly toss the keys to Sam as you head back to the first floor with Dean on your heels.
Sam drives the mustang back as you sit in the back of the Impala. Dean says nothing as he re-stitches the upper part of your shoulder. “Dean, I-“
“Don’t.” He interrupts, obviously angry. Him not talking, that’s when it was really bad. The calm before the storm. The whole ride home is like that, You sitting there, staring at your lap, and dean, white knuckling the wheel, his gaze on the road the entire time. When you get back to the bunker, the mustang is already there. You both get out of the car, Dean closing the door with a noticeable amount of force. Your eyes search his face, but find nothing, so you walk into the bunker with your eyes cast downward. Seeing as it was almost 5 am at this point you went into the bedroom, to try and get some sleep. As you get to the dresser, you hear the door click shut and lock behind you.
You turn to see Dean, his pupils dilated and his eyes following you like a predator stalking prey. “Dean?”