Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

Tall Tales

A/N: this chapter was VERY hard to write. i hope it makes sense, if not, i'm so sorry. ❤️ you guys.

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NOW:

You sink deeper into the loveseat, feet propped on the only clear space of the coffee table, wedged between the mess of library books Sam has spread across it and the corner of the couch you've been crashing on for days. Your eyes stay fixed on your laptop, doing your best to ignore the rising tension brewing between the brothers. This hunt feels like a joke that stopped being funny days ago. The motel room isn't the worst you've stayed in, but it's not far from it.

First, there's the mold, new varieties appearing between the bathroom tiles every time you shower. Then there was the delightful surprise of something crawling around in your pillowcase. Turns out, you'd been spooning a cockroach for the past two nights. That was the end of that arrangement.

You complained to the motel manager, demanded a new room. He told you none were available. Might have been your phrasing. Calling his establishment a "disgusting piece of shit not fit for human living" probably didn't help your odds. So now, your home is a sagging couch buried under books, snack wrappers, and the brothers' assorted clutter, despite your many not-so-gentle reminders. You refuse to take up refuge in one of their beds... knowing cockroaches have similar ideas. And as things keep getting weirder with this case, the bickering only gets worse. You're starting to suspect they've forgotten you're even in the room.

Sam shifts, resting his head from one palm to the other. His free hand flips through some dusty hardcover with the grace of someone seconds from throwing it across the room. His whole face radiates frustration. You glance up from your screen just in time to catch it. Dean lounges across one of the unmade beds, elbow-deep in a greasy box of chili fries, flipping through a wrinkled magazine he found who-knows-where. He's chewing like a bulldog and humming his approval with every bite, completely oblivious to how much he's irritating his brother.

Soft music plays on the radio, a low hum underneath it all. You prefer that to the arguing. At least the music isn't personal.

"Dude, you mind not eating those on my bed?" Sam finally snaps, the first words he's said in an hour. You roll your eyes so far back they might get stuck. You look back at your screen, determined to block them out.

"Nope, don't mind," Dean replies, licking his fingers before grabbing another handful of fries. "How's the research going?"

Sam slams the book closed with a sharp thwack. "You know how it's going. Slow. You know what would make it faster? If I had my laptop."

He raises his voice, trying to lay on the guilt, but Dean just smirks with his cheeks puffed full of food, clearly not taking the bait. Sam groans, grabs another book, and drops the argument. Silence settles for a moment, just long enough for you to exhale, until Sam blurts out, "Can you turn that down, please?"

"Yeah, absolutely," Dean says...and then turns the volume up instead.

You wince. Sam glares daggers at him. Dean doesn't even look up.

"You know what? Maybe you should go somewhere for a while, huh?" Sam bites out.

Dean finally kills the music and turns to him, voice flat with sarcasm. "Great idea. Love it. Just one problem. My car's totaled."

"I told you I had nothing to do—"

"Jesus Christ. Shut the hell up!" you yell, slamming your laptop shut so hard the keys rattle. You breathe hard through your nose and shake your head, disgusted with both of them. Before either one can fire back, a knock on the door interrupts everything. They freeze.