Superwholock one-shots

Worriers

The rain outside pours down around you as you load the Impala's trunk. It's cold and you can't help but grumble your complaints. No one's around to hear you of course, but that doesn't stop you from saying how you feel. You got hurt on a hunt once and now Sam and Dean barely even trust you to load the trunk. "Where's the holy water, we'll be needing it," you whisper to the air.

You scour the whole trunk for the glass bottle, when finally, you find it crushed beneath a rifle. The blessed water streams out and forms a puddle. A crack is present on the top. You sigh loudly over the sound of rain pounding on the roof. The outfit you decided to wear sticks to your body. Your hair splays against your forehead.

"Hey, need any help?" a voice asks from behind you. All you can do is grab a knife and sling it at it. "Woah, calm down. It's just me," Sam calmly assures.

"It's fine. I'm just a little jumpy." Ever since the last time you got hurt, you've been careful. It wasn't that you are scared of getting hurt again, it's that you miss the thrill of killing the monster causing terror. It sent a certain feeling through you that no drug could give to you.

"I can see." Sam picks up your knife and slowly puts it in the trunk. "So I was thinking. Dean's out of it for a few days at least. There's something kidnapping victims and then leaving their bodies high up in trees in Tennessee. What do you say?"

He gives you a questioning glance and you close the trunk. "Let's go."

---

Forests with bright flowers zoom past. Mountains tower over you on both sides of the curvy back road. "Where is the case again?" Sam takes his eyes off the road to look at the paper.

"Petros. I think we just passed Oak Ridge. That's a city placed near here. During World War Two, they placed a secret plant here and called it the Secret City."

"Sam, you only give me useless facts when you're trying to hide somethings. Spill." He hangs his head in defeat.

"I'm worried you'll get hurt again." Of course, he was always worrying about you. It's been worse since the accident as he refers to it.

"I'm not a baby," you mutter. You gloomily stare out the window as you breeze through a mountain.

"You're mine," he says under his breath. If it hadn't been silent, that would've been an unheard statement. He gets you worked up and then says some shit like this, as always.

You don't say another word the rest of the drive. The car swerves along with the curvy road. "I'll pull over when I spot somewhere for us to change." Not a single passes where you can do that on the tiny road. On either side of the road are trees and crusty trailers. When it is about time to give up hope, a small gas station appears. It's covered in coke signs and there's dirt instead of gravel. Just what you'd expect on a back road of Tennessee.

A thought that is similar to getting murdered if you step in sweeps over you, yet you push it aside. Dust swirls around you as you step out. The southern sun beats down.

The bell dings when you step inside. A woman who looks addicted to something dozes at the counter. She stirs at the sound of the bell, but doesn't wake up. Sam creeps up behind you and cuts toward the restrooms. You follow him to the back. The smell of alcohol invades your nostrils.

"I'll be out in a minute," you say and step into the women's restroom. It's nasty, and you feel dirty just standing there.

We won't get into detail about you dressing. All I can say is that you walk out looking savvy and fashion forward. The black heels you wear click against the floor and that definitely wakes the poor woman up. "Ma'am, where's the police station?"

The woman's eyes look sleepy. "Down the road aways. There's a sign. Can't miss it," she drawls. Her eyes fumble upon you, then they go wide when Sam steps up behind you. Sam presses on your back to signal to leave. The woman stretches over the counter just to see you leave.

---

The darkness of the forest excited you. Sam and you have spilt up to catch this son of a bitch. A vengeful spirit is what you both decided on. After finding out that the victims all had connections, you gathered up the supplies and set out.

Sam is a scream away. He promised that he'd come running if you need saving, yet you will not. You're a big girl who can take care of herself. Your phone vibrates in your pocket. With a swift movement, you answer it to hear Sam's voice. "(y/n), run. Now. It's hot on my trails. Meet me in the middle. We can take this down together-" he's cut off suddenly when the phone stops working.

You swivel around to your left and come face to face with a man who has his guts dangling about. A look that signals he's angry appears. "Shit," you manage to get out before you're slung into a tree. The ghost tromps over to you and reaches deep into your stomach.

The pain overwhelms you. Never before has this happened. "(y/n)!" Sam calls, yet it's too late. You're going to die. He hits the ghost with iron and runs over to you. He curses under his breath and makes a sloppy salt circle. "Don't die. I don't know what I would do if you died."

You stroke his face and smile. Your Sammy. There's blood pouring down from your mouth, and the ghost will be back soon. Sam's saying words, but you can't comprehend. You weakly wave bye to him and then die.

Sam looks at your body. He needs to salt the bones first, but he's going to a crossroad. The rest isn't hard to figure out.