Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

Bedtime Stories

"I don't understand, Dean. Why not?"

"Because I said so."

You hate that answer.

Your fingers drag down your face, pressing hard like you can push the frustration out of your skull, but it doesn't help. The pressure behind your eyes only builds, dull at first, then sharper, threatening to tip into something worse if this keeps going. The Impala swerves slightly as Dean corrects the wheel, the tires dipping into a shallow ditch before pulling back onto the road, and the sudden shift makes your stomach roll in a way that has nothing to do with the motion.

You've felt like hell for days now. The headache, the nausea, the way everything sits just slightly off in your body....it hasn't let up, not once. And on top of that, Ruby's plan keeps circling in your head, over and over, every angle, every possibility, every outcome you don't want to think too hard about. You never fully bought into it, not like Sam did, but he latched onto it and didn't let go, and every time he tried to bring it up with Dean, the conversation crashed before it ever went anywhere.

So you tried a different way. You thought if it came from you, if you eased him into it instead of forcing it, maybe he'd actually listen.

That lasted all of five minutes.

Now it isn't even about the plan anymore. It's about control. About who gives in first.

"We have the Colt now," you say, holding onto the only leverage you've got, even if you can already feel him pushing back against it. Dean mutters your name under his breath, tired and frustrated, but you don't stop. "I can summon the crossroads demon, pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal. Problem solved."

Even as the words leave your mouth, you hear how clean it sounds. Too clean. Too simple. It doesn't matter. You push anyway.

"We don't know if that'll even work," Dean snaps, his voice rising, but you don't let him take control of it.

"Demons seem to like showing up when I'm involved," you fire back, your voice climbing with his. "And if she doesn't want to cooperate, then I'll make her. I'll shoot her if I have to. If she dies, the deal goes away."

Dean lets out a sharp, disbelieving scoff, and you don't have to look at him to know there's an eye roll that follows it. "We don't know that either. That's the problem. You're throwing out guesses—'if this works,' 'maybe that works' ... and that is not good enough."

You go quiet for just a second, long enough for him to press it further.

"Because if we screw with the deal and it goes wrong," he continues, his voice cutting harder now, "Sam dies."

"And if we don't," you shoot back immediately, the words tearing out of you before you can stop them, "you die."

The car jerks as Dean slams on the brakes, the sudden halt throwing you forward, your hands catching against the back of the front seat as the engine continues to rumble beneath you. For a second, no one moves. Then the leather creaks as Dean twists around in his seat, fast and rough, the movement alone enough to tell you exactly what's coming.

You brace for it anyway.

"I've had it with the attitude," he says, his voice low at first, controlled in a way that never lasts. "What you pulled back there? That was stupid. Reckless."

You look away, your jaw tightening as your gaze fixes on anything that isn't him.

"I know you don't even believe in this plan," he goes on, not slowing down, not giving you room to respond. "So what, you're just gonna summon a demon and hope she takes you out while you're at it?"