Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

Crossroad Blues

A/N: I wrote the entire chapter for Usual Suspects before realizing it's about as exciting as watching paint dry and does absolutely nothing for the overall plot other than the fact that now the feds know about you. So that's the reason for the delay for this update! Enjoy ❤️ Let me know if you wanna read the Usual Suspects chapter even though it's literally BORING. I'll consider posting it as a bonus chapter .

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You lean forward in your cushioned booth seat and snatch another fry from the plate in front of the oldest brother. It's his second order that he's been working on for the past half hour. A victorious smirk spreads across your lips when you catch the annoyed glances he keeps shooting your way. Too late...again. Sam sits beside you, quiet for the past few minutes as he stays glued to his laptop, probably checking on how the manhunt's been going since you left Baltimore.

The last case had nearly landed all of you in prison—or worse. The brothers could've ended up staring at a cell wall, and you? You would've been the detective's final victim, six feet under, buried with his secrets. But somehow, you slipped through the cracks, thanks to a cop willing to make at least one crime disappear. Your bruises, though...they're fading slower than you'd like. And from the distant stares across the diner, people have definitely noticed. Sam's fractured wrist isn't exactly helping you fly under the radar either.

You glance at his screen when you lean in slightly, spotting what's kept him so quiet. Your lips twitch into a half smirk, fighting the urge to laugh at the ugly reminder of a past that won't let go.

"So much for our low profile," Sam mutters, eyes flicking up just enough to glance at Dean. Dean shoves another fry in his mouth, his arm draped over the back of the booth, looking like he couldn't care less about the murder charges hanging over his head.

"Well, I have to be honest. They didn't get your good side," you say, mouth half full of fry as you stare at Dean's mugshot on the laptop. "You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database. Well done."

"Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something," Dean grins, lifting his glass to his lips. You roll your eyes, shaking your head at his terrible sense of humor. If anyone recognizes him, he sure won't be laughing when the cuffs come out.

"Dean, it's not funny," Sam says, ever the voice of reason. "It makes the job harder. We gotta be more careful now."

"Well..." Dean tries to change the subject, eyeing you both. "What do they got on the two of you?"

Sam glances down at the laptop again, jaw shifting like he's trying to figure out how to spin the truth. The search came up empty...it looks like Ballard really did make those charges disappear. "I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet," he lies, brows drawing together.

"No accessory, nothing?" Dean pushes.

"Who could believe someone with this cute of a face could do any harm?" you tease, reaching over to give Sam's cheek a quick squeeze. His face turns red as he yanks your hand away, and Dean cracks a smile across the booth. "Besides, I'll take my outcome any day. Being a criminal doesn't suit me."

"You know, we could've done that whole Bonnie and Clyde thing. But I get it. You're jealous," Dean chuckles, grabbing another fry.

"No, I'm not!" you shoot back, voice louder than you meant. A few heads turn your way. You clear your throat, glaring at a trucker who's staring too long, then grab another fry to shut yourself up before you say something else to draw attention. "Just...shut up."

"Uh-huh," Dean hums, chewing. When you scoff and roll your eyes, he waves a hand, trying not to laugh. "Alright. What do you got on the case, you innocent, harmless young woman, you?"