Supernatural Imagines

Sam -Theif #1

Life has a funny way of working out. Children are always told fairy tales growing up, dreaming or knights and princesses. But your childhood, was not anywhere close to a fairy tale.

You started stealing at the age of 4. By necessity, not choice. Dad died when you were 3, and Mom got sick about a year later. She was fired, unable to go to the hospital, and couldn't care for you. So you stole what you needed. Yes, it was wrong. But wasn't starving?

Your mom died 3 years later, on the anniversary of your father's death. As you grew up, you learned to understand it was heartbreak. But, as a child, you were sent to the closest orphanage. No one cared about you there, so you didn't care. You kept stealing, getting better at it as you grew older.

So, when you had the chance, you dropped out of high school, left the orphanage, and walked down the highway. Years passed, you traveled the world, stole what you wanted and needed, and lived the only way you thought possible after so long.

But one day, that all changed. You had planned to steal a painting that was worth millions, knowing it would sell for a very pretty penny. That was the day you met the Winchester brothers.

They saved your life, from what they later explained as a Vampire. You stepped aside, watching them do their work, studying every word they said. Once they left the town, you stole the painting. It was easier than you expected, especially since you grabbed it before the cops or maids came.

And after selling the painting for a good $5 million, you set off on your search after the brothers. As you traveled, you read everything you could find on the supernatural world. You read up on ghosts, vampires, werewolves, everything really. You just didn't know what was true.

The day you found the brothers again had been a laugh, one or the few memories you would never forget.

You looked through the window, watching the black 67 impala drive up to the curb and die down, making you smirk. Sam and Dean stepped out, looking around suspiciously as they walked into the cafe. When you had finally found them , you had held yourself back from knocking right on their door. You had always liked a little fun in your life, and most of it came from being a thief. But seeing the opportunity to make the boys squirm, you almost jumped at the chance.

So, at about 2 in the afternoon, when you knew both boys were in the hotel room, you slipped a note under the door, quickly getting out of sight. All the note said was "Chrissy's Cafe, tomorrow, 12:30. Look for the red sunglasses. Lunch will be provided."

You had tried not to laugh as they read the note, growing suspicious, slightly angry, and slightly curious.

So now, here you were, red sunglasses on, a smirk lining your red lips as the boys quickly noticed you, sliding into the booth you had chosen. "Who are you and what do you want?" Dean asked, glowering at you.

You scoffed, leaning back in your seat. "Put away the gun, Dean. I don't like guns being pointed at me."

Dean looked shocked, but slid the gun back into the back of his jeans. Sam leaned forward and asked, "Who are you?!"

You tisked, sliding off your sunglasses. "You really don't remember me, boys?"

Dean practically growled at you. "What do you want?"

You leaned forward, looking at him closely. "Is there a reason you don't like me? As far as I remember, I got out of your way that night."

"You remind me of bitch I hate," Dean replied.

"She must have been awful to get you to hate her," you commented. "Do I get a name?"

"Bella Talbot," Sam told you.