My Winchester

Two Birds, One Stone

"Are you okay?" I asked a sickly looking Dean who had just pushed away half a burger. He rubs his stomach but shrugs it off, replying, "Yeah, I'm good."

Sam raises his eyebrows at me, as if I magically can read Dean's mind now that we're together. I roll my eyes, but shrug in reply. Dean stands up, wobbling a little bit.

"Why don't you let me drive," I offer.

"What? I'm fine," he scoffs as we exit the bar.

"Come on, Dean. You've had a couple drinks, you're not hungry, you seem a little disorientated. Maybe you're coming down with something," I reply, leaning against him and blocking him from opening his car door. I wrap my arms around his neck and stick out a pouty lip.

He groans, eyeing my lips. I grin at him before pulling him down to me, pressing my lips to his. It had been something I'd grown used to, Dean's soft lips. After a few moments, Sam interferes.

"Hey, lovebirds! Stop sucking face, it's disgusting," he yells, stopping things from getting anymore heated. Dean groans as he pulls back, the look of lust in his eyes as he drops his keys in my hand.

I smirk as I climb in the car. Being a girl had it's perks.

Dean recovered from his lust rather quickly, now rubbing his stomach again. I reach over and take his hand, hoping he's not sick.

We didn't really know where else to look for Preston. Dean said he wanted to sleep when we got back, so Sam offered to hit the books. "Sam, how much research can you even do?" I ask him.

He shrugs in reply. "Look up more on the guy, I guess. Gotta find him some how."

"You need any help?" I ask him, hoping he'd say no.

"Nah, go to bed with Dean," Sam says, a slight tinkle in his eye from happiness for his brother. I grin in thanks to him before going into the bathroom to change. This morning had been eery for me, creeping around that house. I didn't know what to expect.

I was actually slightly relieved there was nobody there. Then again, I wanted to kill the son of a bitch as soon as possible.

"You don't have to sleep with me," Dean says tiredly as I climb in bed with him. I shushed him before fitting into his frame, my head on his chest and a lazy arm draped over his middle.

"Carmen," Dean mumbles with closed lids.

"Yeah?"

"We're gonna find him, if it's the last thing I do," he slurs before drifting off.

***

"Oh, wow. Such an easy capture!" An unknown voice rings out in the dark. The darkness was swallowing, like I couldn't even feel if my eyes were open.

Then the lights flicked on, blinding me. After a few painful blinks, I look around the room. "Dean?" I ask, seeing him tied up across from me. The room was strikingly white, making it seem even brighter. "Golds.." he trails off, his voice seeming disappointed. That was when I noticed the man in the corner.

He was the man in my sketch. I had the chin and hair a little wrong, but other than that it was a perfect match. Preston Walker, the man that started this whole mess.

"It was so much easier than I thought. I don't understand everyone's concerns. Just a little drugs and a dart and boom, the Winchesters are in my hand," he evilly states, walking towards me with a cane in one hand.

"I thought you were a hunter. You look more like a watchmaker to me," I spit, eyeing his black suit. He chuckles, not affected by my remark.

"Darling, you wouldn't know what a hunter is if it wasn't for me," he replies, grinning sickly. "You fell right into the trap."