SPN One Shots (Characters and Actors)

Home (Part 1) *Sam & Dean*

Hungry. Filthy. Tired. Cold. Wet. The rain pelted down onto the tan skin of a girl no older than 15. Her clothes were ripped in places and she wore no shoes. Her pants were or used to be a black stretchy material and her shirt was too large for her scrawny form.

This girl is I, (Y/n), and it's quite hard to keep track of time when you don't own a watch or calendar. When you only have enough money, which you scrounged up by begging and pickpocketing, to buy a small amount of food. No one deserves my life and I wouldn't wish it upon anyone.

I was in a forest, where? I hadn't the slightest, but the branches and leaves above served as a cover. A crappy, leaky cover, but a cover none the less. I was wandering, as I usually do when trying to find civilization, when I came up to a road. A paved road of asphalt.

I followed it for at least a mile or two before collapsing on the grass underneath me. I rolled onto my back and stared at the water droplets sitting on the blades of vegetation around me, constantly moving, being replaced with other drops as the old fell into ground. I opened my mouth and took some of the water that fell from the sky, trying to get a shred of energy into my body. After what felt like hours, and damn well could've been, I got onto my feet again, continuing my trek.

I walked for a bit but began getting impatient for the sound of people, motor vehicles, anything to tell me I wasn't still lying on the ground with the water droplets. I walked faster, slowly turning it into a jog, then quickly breaking into a run.

I skidded to a halt behind the back of a vehicle as soon as I could see the licence plate. I ignored the sting and burning of what I knew were blisters and cuts on the bottom of my feet. I ignored the hammering sensation on the exposed skin of my arms. I ignored the feeling of jackhammers going off in my head.

I turned to the right to face concrete, as I correctly assumed it was, which was embedded in the grassy dirt. In the center there was a large metal door. Surrounding that were bricks, around that was stone, and around that was concrete. Steps led down the the door, broken railing on either side.

Curiosity got the better of me. I walked down those stairs and stood in front of that treating metal door, and examined everything around and on it. On the ground in the far left corner of the ground was a key. I immediately grabbed, not thinking if it was for the door or not. Putting it into the keyhole I turned it, a loud grating noise startling me as I pulled it open.

I rushed to pull it open, to get out of the rain. I ran into wherever the door led to, spinning around to slam the metal shut again. I turned and slid down, leaning against the door with my head in my arms, curling into a tight ball.

It was then I realized I was warming up. My skin began to have feeling again, my fingers weren't numb anymore. I shot my head up and gasped. No. It couldn't be possible.

A random metal door, in a random forest, just so happening to be a place of living. Railing was in front of me, weird lines going every which way. Stairs spiraled against the wall, leading down to a level.

I ran down as soon as I pulled my body up from the floor, shivering and air rushed past me. I stomped onto the floor as I reached the final step, running around to look at everything. There was a table in the middle, chairs around it, with papers sitting on top. There was a tan file too, and at the top was messy handwriting.

Angels

Weird, I thought. Why would anyone living here care about if angels existed.

My body jolted backwards and I dropped the key I still held out of shock, as a shot rang out in the silent room, my fight or flight response kicking in. I ran down a corridor through a library full of books, and took a sharp turn. I ran and ran, reaching stairs leading down at some point and after a minute I ran into a room with a strange symbol on the floor.

Metal against metal rang behind me and I spun around, the door had been shut. I was trapped.

_------_------_

It must of been two hours at the most that I was in there, bored out of my mind. Occasionally my stomach growled, or my headache would get worse, reminding me that I was, in fact, still alive. I was sitting in the chair which sat in the middle of the symbol on the floor. I walked around a bit after the door closed, fidgiting and pacing.

I was lost in my thoughts, yelling at myself for opening the metal door in the first place, when a bang sounded in the room. I jumped out of my seat, backing against the wall and curling in on myself. My arms went around my head and I covered my ears and shut my eyes. I could feel a panic attack coming.

My breathing became labored and my air became limited. I needed to calm down but I couldn't. It got worse.

My shoulder was touched by something rough and I jerked away, rolling the opposite way and curling up again, sitting on my knees and forearms.

Footsteps receded away from me and my breathing calmed a bit, but not by much. I unfurled myself and laid down, staring at the ceiling. I began breathing exercises I had gotten drilled into my head from a young age, slowly beginning to breath evenly.

My head became hazy, my vision becoming black as I fell asleep for the first time in almost a day.

_------_------_

"She obviously isn't a threat. She had a panic attack for gods sake!"

"I don't care how vulnerable she seems. She could be acting and you know it."

"Look. All I'm saying, is look at her. How old does she look? 20? 21? She looks skinny as hell, Dean!"

"Fine. Prove she ain't a monster, demon, or any other thing we kill."

My eyes were heavy. My body was like lead. Underneath me was the same hard surface I had fallen asleep on. It was peaceful almost. Until the door opened.

I scrambled to my feet but before I could make it five feet a deadly voice stopped me.

"Stop right there or I shoot you dead."

I froze in fear and turned to look at who had spoken. Two men stood by the entrance and exit to the room. The taller of the two had shaggy hair to his shoulders. He wore plaid and jeans, his feet clad with black leather boots I thought were suited for hunting. He hit the other on the arm, pulling the gun down so it wasn't pointed at me.

The wielder of the weapon was wearing a black T-shirt, a red unbuttoned shirt over it and jeans. His feet were adorned in the same style boot as the other. I assumed he was the one who spoke.

"Dean, dude. 5 minutes without waving a gun around won't kill you." The tall one said.

"Yeah, well, she might." His voice was hardened as he spoke. He was obviously angry but I didn't understand.

"E-excuse me?"

They both turned their heads to stare at me as I spoke.

"W-why would I k-kill anyone?"

The tall guy looked pointedly at the man who must've been Dean. He held out his hand and Dean sighed before setting a knife in his outstretched palm.

"Alright then. My name is Sam. This may hurt a bit."

He lunged toward me, my instincts taking over, causing me to try and run. Unfortunately for me, the adrenaline kicking in meant my brain was slower, making me forget about Dean.

His arm caught me around the waist and he pulled me around, his other hand pulling my right arm underneath the arm he had around me and forcing my left arm to be spread out towards Sam.

I tried to get out of his grip, failing to do so before Sam had the knife on my skin. He sliced a small cut into my forearm, then reached into his other hand and put what looked like salt into my hand, then proceeding to pour liquid from a small flask onto my wrist.

Dean dropped me, my arm shooting out to catch myself. I stared up at them, Dean sighing.