Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

Shadow

"Hey, Hey! Two minutes." Dean calls to you from the end of the aisle as you stand in the grocery store.

"Dean Winchester I will beat you to death with this box of tampons and I swear to fuck I mean it." You call back, reaching on your tip toes to grab something off the higher shelf.

You feel him beside you before you see him as he gets down the box of cookies you had been reaching for.

"These hardly count as food, you know. You're as bad as Dean." Sam says with a small laugh.

You point a finger at him and feigned annoyance. "You're just as annoying as Dean."

The two of you walk as you grab random shit off the shelves until your arms are full. When you finally reconvene with Dean, his arms are full of sandwich ingredients.

"I hope you plan on making those yourself." You tell him.

"Ah, but baby, that's your job." He winks at you and you seriously think for a moment about hitting his beautiful smug face.

"Hey, guys, shut up for a second and look at this." Sam has the local paper in his hand, and he's scouring over the front page material.

-

Another merry band of serial killers or a possible supernatural case? That is the million dollar question on everyone's mind when the Impala drives into the city of Chicago. Sam parks it against the sidewalk where just across the busy street is the apartment building where the suspicious serial killer had chosen their second victim; Meredith McDonnell.

Today marks the one week anniversary of her murder. The case is beginning to grow cold due to the overwhelming lack of evidence. That's when the three of you had decided to step in, with your fake outfits that Sam said you needed for your cover. But frankly? They just make you feel stupid. The denim jumpsuits were literally bought out of the back of someone's van.

You pull on the sleeve again to keep your cast, that is still around your wrist, from being shown. It is just another constant reminder that this thing has been making your life a living hell. Between the awkward itches that you want to scratch or how hot it gets underneath the plaster. You are counting down the days until you could get this damn thing off—three days until you would be set free. At least, that's what Dean had promised.

Breaking your concentration, you notice that Sam and Dean have exited the car as they head towards the trunk to get the supplies needed to get the job done. You're still sitting in the backseat, examining the newspaper Sam plucked from the grocery store checkout. Dean had spoken to the police for more information on the way over, but you and Sam had dug into the victim's personal history to see if there were any leads there.

But, you all agreed that checking out the scene of the crime is beyond necessary for this case. Hence the reason for the horrible fucking outfits. You long to climb out of the itchy fabric and into your own clothes.

You push open the car door with your good hand and step outside. You turn your head as Dean slams the trunk and he makes his way towards you. Sweetly, he tugs your sleeve down more to cover your cast — knowing how insecure it makes you, before kissing your head. "Three more days." He promises again.

"All right, Dean. This is the place." Sam says. He shuts the passenger's side door before taking a quick glance over at the brick building.

"I've got to say that Dad and me did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high-school-drama dork." Dean complains, as per usual. He begins walking straight for the building, you and Sam follow right alongside him. "Hey, what was that play that you did?" He turns his head towards his brother, a grin spreading across his lips when he thinks about the memory. "What was it—'Our Town'? Yeah, you were good. It was cute."