Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1

A/N: strap in. ❤️

-

You sit curled in the backseat of the Impala, legs tucked beneath you, forehead pressed to the cool glass of the window. The storm's finally passed, leaving the sky stretched wide and black, full of stars and a heavy, golden moon. All day, it's been nothing but dry dirt roads and tree-lined silence, and somehow even that's felt quieter than usual. Sam's dozing with his head against the window, arms crossed tight. Dean hums low with the radio as he drives, fingers drumming against the wheel, but he hasn't looked at you once since the last gas station. Not really.

So when the soft neon glow of a little roadside diner comes into view, you straighten up. "Food," you mumble hopefully.

Dean makes a thoughtful noise and pulls in. The place is nearly empty except for an old red pickup parked nearby. Through the window, you spot a single waitress and a guy in a trucker hat nursing a cup of coffee. For once, you're eager to go inside. A little normalcy. A little distraction.

Dean shifts into park and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a twenty and dangling it between two fingers over the seat. "Your turn, sweetheart."

You roll your eyes and lean forward to snatch the bill, but he yanks it out of reach last second with a crooked smile. "And don't forget the extra onions this time, yeah?"

"You're so annoying," you mutter, snatching the bill as you press a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Dude, I don't want to smell your onion breath all day," Sam grumbles, stretching as he opens the passenger door. "I'll come with you. I need to hit the bathroom anyway."

You glance back at Dean as you step out, and for a breath of a moment, you soften. "Want anything else?" you ask.

Dean looks up at you through the window, voice casual but quiet. "See if they've got any pie."

You nod. "I'll try."

"Bring me some pie!" he calls after you, and Sam groans.

The bell over the door jingles as you and Sam step inside. The diner smells like fried food and coffee grounds, like warm bread and old vinyl booths. Sam nods toward the back and mutters something about meeting you in a minute. You wander toward the counter, shoulders tense, trying to push the nerves away.

You're not scared. Not yet. But something feels... tilted.

The waitress smiles politely as she finishes scribbling something on her notepad. You nod back at her and turn to scan the display case. Pies. At least Dean might be happy. You breathe in deep, try to center yourself—

And then you feel it.

The hair on the back of your neck prickles. That taste in the air. Metal and ozone. Your whole body tightens like a string pulled taut.

You glance toward the trucker. He's still hunched over his mug, unmoving. But beneath the booth, a thin line of blood trickles down from the seat onto the floor. You blink hard, hoping you imagined it, but no. The reflection in the dome mirror above confirms your suspicion, two cooks lie crumpled behind the counter, blood soaked into their aprons.

Panic rises in your throat.

Then the waitress turns to face you, eyes glowing bright yellow.

"I've been waiting for you," she says sweetly.

Your heart stops. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

You try to scream. Try to move. But your limbs are locked, frozen in place like a nightmare you can't wake up from. Even as you hear the door to the bathroom creak open behind you, Sam returning, you can't turn, can't warn him.