Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

The Kids are Alright

You've always believed in the old saying: if you can't beat them, you might as well join them. So you do. You sit tucked into the back table of a sleepy little diner, the glow of your laptop screen washing your face in pale light while Sam sits across from you, nose buried in research. He's barely slept since Dean's deal. Every second he's awake, he's clawing through lore, desperate for anything...a loophole, a ritual, a sliver of hope.

You're doing the same. Decoding an old Latin text, translating scraps of ritual into English, scouring the corners of the internet for something, anything, that might help. It's all starting to blur together,the same words, the same dead ends, until Sam's voice breaks the silence.

"What do you mean you don't think it'll work, Bobby? It's a demon-dispelling ritual."

Your eyes flick up from the screen at the sudden shift in his tone. He's on the phone, trying to make a case. But the soft tap-tap-tap at the window makes both of you glance up. Dean's standing outside, newspaper in hand, flashing a grin like he's been gone for hours instead of twenty minutes.

He disappears toward the front door, and Sam lowers his voice. "Well, maybe we translated something wrong. We can't just let Dean fry in Hell while we— There's gotta be something—"

The bell above the door jingles. You snap the laptop shut in an instant, shooting Sam a warning look. Wrap it up. He nods once and cuts Bobby off, pocketing the phone just in time for Dean to saunter over.

"Who was that?" Dean asks casually.

"I was just... ordering a pizza," Sam blurts, far too quickly.

You stifle a snort.

"Dude," Dean says, gesturing behind him, "you do realize we're in a restaurant, right?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah." Sam nods too many times, eyes darting. "We just... felt like pizza."

Dean gives him a long look. Then he drops the paper on the table and settles into his chair beside you. "Okay, Weird McWeirderton." He clears his throat and flips the newspaper around. "I think I got something. Cicero, Indiana. Guy falls on his own power saw."

You lean forward, scanning the headline. It's thin. Suspicious accident, maybe. Hardly the kind of thing that screams demon activity. You slide it across to Sam.

"One power saw? That's it?"

"Could be something." Dean shrugs. His arm settles casually across the back of your chair, but the weight of it is familiar now, heavier than it should be. You still haven't talked about what happened when you broke down. Neither has he. Maybe you never will.

Sam scans the article and raises a brow. "And you think this is worth chasing?"

Dean doesn't answer right away. "Well... there's more to it."

You narrow your eyes. "And what would that be?"

He hesitates just a second too long, and that's how you know. Whatever this is, it's not about the case.

"There's someone there I used to know," he admits, lips twitching into a grin he probably hopes looks casual.

Your stomach dips before you can stop it. "Someone?"

"Yeah." Dean leans back, the picture of nonchalance. "An old friend. We, uh... saw a lot of each other once."

The words sting more than you want to admit. He doesn't say her name, but the way he says friend makes something hot and ugly twist in your chest. You try to play it off with a scoff.

"So let me get this straight," you say slowly. "You want to drag us halfway across the country so you can hook up with an ex?"

"Reconnect," Dean corrects. "It's been a long time."