Most Wanted: Spencer Reid ≈ Dean Winchester

The Road So Far

You awoke in the car as it was stopped at a gas station. Sam stayed inside the car as Dean ran in for snacks and to pay for gas.

"Hey Sam?" He turned to face you with a hum. You rubbed your eyes to rid the sleepiness. You wanted to talk to Sam about what he said in the closet, but in private.

"Do you truly mean what you said while you were locked away from Dean?" He quirked a brow at you in slight confusion.

"Which part?" He softly asks as he still was sulking after what happened.

"The dark pit inside you and how it's a choice to fall into it or not. To not be the monster that you are but be normal by what you do."

"After Jack... I don't think it holds much weight to it anymore."

"You're trying to be the example though?" He looks down as his hands played with the edges of the map.

"Yea I'm trying." You send him a gentle smile.

"There may not be examples to prove it to you, but I'm glad you're mine." Sincerity lacing your words which causes Sam to furrow his brows. You wouldn't dare to explain to him right now but the notion was enough.

As Sam was preparing to question you, Dean interrupts as he opens his door and throws snacks at the two of you.

"I didn't know what you wanted Sleeping Beauty, but you're just gonna have to deal with it." He gruffly states before getting in and shutting his door closed.

"Thanks." You and Sam say in unison. Small smiles on your faces at the unity between you two.

"So where are we headed?" You ask as you snacked on the random chips that were tossed to you.

"Nearest motel to sleep and we gotta find a case." You nod before slumping down in your seat.

"So what are you good at that can help us?" Dean asks as he drives off.

"I'm good at reading people, talking to others, I'm more trustworthy to open up to because I look less threatening than you two giants, I can defend myself well in a fight... I don't know against monsters though, hand me a gun- I get the job done, let's see what else... I know a lot about anatomy, other different facts too, I can handle bloody situations, I can tend to wounds, Michelle taught me how to cook and bake if that helps- I don't know." You ramble as you continue snacking.

"Where did you learn all this?" Dean was skeptical of your skills. You shrug as he watches you through the rearview mirror for a moment.

"My father was in the military when I was younger, when I got into high school he wanted me trained to defend myself and know how to strategically think through situations. Took me shooting when I was fourteen. My mother was a doctor. She trained me to know different terminology and how to handle different situations in case an emergency happened and paramedics weren't fast enough. They had me later in life so they died when I was a college student. I got my mixology degree."

"Wait... you're trained to be some type of law enforcement or doctor and you chose a mixology degree?" Sam asks in disbelief.

"When you're forced to follow in your parents' footsteps- you tend to resent what they pick out for you. It's hard to resent your parents for wanting what they think is best. So those kids tend to gravitate to something that's like a slap to the face." You reason the opposite of your reaction. Instead you followed along and grew to resent them.