Abducted: Part One (SPN | Dean x Reader | Slow Burn)

Chapter 04: Meeting Sam Winchester

December 2013

You'd now spent a total of two nights and three days with Dean Winchester, the man who had deceived an entire police station under the pretence he was an FBI agent, and busted you out. You were no closer to finding out how you had managed to arrive in the States and in unison, no closer to finding a way back home to Australia. But you'd found comfort in the friendship, if you could call it that, you'd made with Dean.

Over the course of the past few days, with Deans help, you'd contacted as many people and organisations as you could think of, hoping to find some evidence of your existence. The Registry for Birth, Death and Marriage back in New South Wales (NSW) was useless. As was Service NSW, the Department of Home Affairs, Medicare, Services Australia, Australia Post, the ATO, your health insurance company and the bank your now fake credit card belonged to. You'd even attempted to contact your friends, family and coworkers over social media, but they were either rude or blocked you. And you really couldn't blame them.

Dean and you were currently sitting in Baby, his black 1967 Chevrolet Impala, on route to Grantsburg, Wisconsin. He had discovered that a friend of his, Garth, the very same contact he'd entered into your phone, had been hit by a car. As it turned out, Garth had been MIA the last few months and Dean was hoping to find out what had happened to him. You could tell by his facial expression that he was worried when he told you, but he had also attempted to mask it with the fact that someone named Kevin was dead, because he'd gone off grid.

The cuts and bruises over your body were finally starting to fade, the pain away with them. And as much as you should be relieved that your body was healing, the reminder that this was your new reality, was fading along with them.

You had no clue as to where you were on what appeared to be an old, unused Highway. You knew Wisconsin was in the north west-ish end of the United States, but you'd only learned that by googling it on your now working again phone.

You arrived at the Grantsburg hospital around noon and followed Dean as he eventually found his way to the room his friend Garth was in, with the help of the hospital staff. Garth, an odd, Ichabod Crane-looking guy, was handcuffed to the bed. As you stood back in the corner of Garth's room, the door in the corner to your left, you watched as Dean pulled out a long syringe from his pocket.

"What's that for?" You hissed in his direction.

But before he could answer, the door to the room opened suddenly and Dean casually slipped the needle behind his back, trying to appear inconspicuous, his face calm and stoic. A man had appeared wearing a suit similar to the one Dean had used as part of his FBI get up. His hair was longish, for a males cut, with the front locks tucked in behind his ears to keep the hair out of his face. This new man, who was taller than Dean, met with your eyes briefly before turning. He scoffed as he acknowledged Dean standing next to Garth's bed.

Dean lowered his head.

As the taller man moved towards the bed, he and Dean exchanged glances between each other and Garth, both showing signs of annoyance.

"Saw Garth's John Doe on the police wire." The taller man whispered. "You?"

"Yeah." Dean grunted. "Where you coming from?" Clearly they new each other.

"New Mexico." The taller man answered quickly.

"Well, that's a haul." Dean commented, the taller man eyeing him awkwardly. There was a definite eye roll there. "Especially considering that I got this, uh... pretty much covered, so if you want to..." Dean clicked his tongue and motioned to the door.

"You spoken to him yet?" The taller man had ignored Deans request. His eyes met yours once again, a brief look of confusion entered his features and you quickly averted your eyes to the ground.