INITIUM - Supernarural Season One [Dean Winchester x Reader]

VIII - Limbo

You, Sam, and Dean lean against the side of the impala watching the Pike family load all of their belongings into a moving truck. After experiencing the bug apocalypse, the family wanted to move as far away from Oasis Plains as possible. You couldn't really blame them; you also shared their hatred for bugs. 

The son, Matt, dropped the last of his bug collection in the garbage bin. Something that once fascinated him sent tickles down his spine like a bug crawling on your back on a hot summer day. 

"I wanna find Dad," Sam says quietly, bringing you back from your thoughts. 

"Yeah, me too," Dean agrees. 

"Yeah, but I just..." Sam trails off, recollecting his thoughts and experiences from this hunt. "...I wanna apologize to him."

You and Dean look at Sam. "For what?" Dean asks his brother. 

"All the things I said to him," Sam responds. Dean nods in understanding, recalling the sour note Sam and his father left on. You weren't there for the fight, but you remember Sam calling you, his voice breaking and angry, and Dean coming over to tell his side of the story too. "He was just doing the best he could." 

"Well, don't worry, we'll find him," Dean says, his voice sound and reassuring. "And you'll apologize, and then within five minutes you guys will be at each other's throats."

Sam laughs, and you can't help but feel a smile stretch on your lips. "Yeah, probably," Sammy agrees. "Let's hit the road," Sam says, pushing himself from the car.

"Let's." 

The Pike family waves to you as you all get in the car. You return their waves with a smile, knowing they'll do all right. The mood was light for once, classic rock softly humming through the radio, and you couldn't be happier. 

~~~

The impala lulls to a stop in a motel parking lot. You stretch your cramped limbs, a yawn escaping your lips as you blink away the haziness. The motel appears to be in moderate condition, a relief in your opinion. 

You, Sammy, and Dean exit the car without saying a word to one another. There's no need; you've done this routine multiple times before. You head to the front desk as Dean pops the trunk of the impala to grab your bags with Sam. Normally, Sam would come get the rooms with you, but the boys probably wanted to discuss, well, brother things. 

The lady behind the counter picks at her nails, clearly bored with the stale hour. You smile tightly at her, her blank eyes watching you approach the counter. 

"Hi, two queens please," you say, keeping the conversation brisk and to the point. You don't bother asking whether or not the room came with a couch. You don't mind sleeping on the floor so long as you were sleeping. 

The lady sighs and pulls out a key from behind the counter. "I'll charge you for your stay when you check out." You blink, flabbergasted with her leniency, but take the key, nonetheless. "Room four," she adds, pointing outside aimlessly with her finger. 

"Thank you," you reply, leaving the lobby to meet up with the boys. Dean closes the trunk, your timing perfect as usual, and Sam walks to the front of the car to meet up with you. 

"Well?" he asks as you look down the expanse of the motel to find a door labeled with 4. 

"Room four." You nod at the room, then walk over to the room, key in hand. As you unlock the door, Dean and Sam tail behind you. The door creaks open revealing a humble space. There's two queen beds, as requested, a small coffee table with two chairs, a TV set up, and an armchair. The color scheme isn't puke inducing: cozy shades of brown and orange. In fact, the entire room resembles a cheap furniture catalog from the 80s.