Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

Red Sky at Morning

You stretch your arms over your head, trying to work some feeling back into your tense muscles after hours of being stuck in the backseat. Nightfall passed a while ago, and there's been almost nothing interesting enough to fill the silence between you and the boys. Sam seems distant, lost somewhere in his own head, and you're starting to wonder if the quiet might last long enough for you to sneak in a small nap before anyone decides to start another argument.

You're still a state over from the case Sam picked out, and it never hurts to cash in on sleep when you can. With that thought settled, you snatch an abandoned coat from the other side of the seat and bunch it up into something close enough to a pillow. You lean down, close your eyes, and let the familiar growl of the engine start pulling you under.

"So," Dean says suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet and making your eyes open again. "I've been waiting since Maple Springs."

You and Sam glance at each other, neither of you sure what he's trying to drag out into the open now.

"You got something you wanna tell me?"

"It's not your birthday," Sam mutters.

"Happy Purim?" you add, only half awake.

Dean doesn't laugh.

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt," he says. "Either of you wanna explain that?"

Sam stiffens, and you go quiet immediately, your gaze dropping to your lap instead of the rearview mirror where Dean is already trying to catch your eyes. You shake your head once, small and useless, because there's no good lie here and you know it.

"I know it wasn't me," Dean continues, voice tightening. "And Sammy doesn't usually go behind my back unless he's got a death wish. So unless you were out there putting down some seriously evil beer cans the other night..." His eyes flick toward you again. "You went after her, didn't you? The crossroads demon. After I told you not to."

"Yeah, well," you say, forcing sarcasm into your voice because it's the only defense you have left, "I was bored. Figured I'd get in some target practice."

Dean lets out a sharp breath through his nose, clearly not amused. "You could've gotten yourself killed."

"But I didn't."

"And you shot her."

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Sherlock. She was a smartass."

Sam tries to hide the quietest laugh behind a cough, but it still earns him a glare from Dean before Dean's attention snaps right back to you.

"So what?" Dean asks. "Does that mean I'm out of my deal?"

"Don't you think I might've opened with that if it worked?" you ask, tilting your head slightly. "No. Someone else holds the contracts. And before you ask, she wouldn't tell me who."

Dean scoffs under his breath, disappointment and irritation twisting together on his face as he turns his attention back to the road. "Great. So our best lead would've been the crossroads demon." He pauses, letting the point land. "Oh, wait."

"That's not funny," Sam says, his voice sharper now. "You've been on her since we left. It was my idea anyway. She was trying to help."

"No," Dean snaps. "It was stupid. It was reckless. And she shouldn't have done it."

Sam looks over at his brother, frustration pulling his brows together. "She shouldn't have done it? Dean, we're trying everything we can because you won't. You're my brother, and no matter how much you push back, we're going to try to save you." His voice grows rougher, emotion slipping through no matter how hard he tries to hold it steady. "And I'm not apologizing for that."