The Hunter Diaries // Dean Winchester x Reader

Chapter 10

Dean raked a hand through his short cropped hair, a bottle of jack in the other hand and a large book on the table in front of him. You had been gone for nearly three days and the men had no leads on your whereabouts. Sam had to sit by and watch as his older brother went crazy, drinking himself through the day with his nose buried in every lore book he could find, desperately looking for Aamons name within one.

Sam flipped through a spell book across from Dean, his hazel eyes scanning each page carefully. It was an old grimoire, written by a witch in the early 1600's. Elizabeth Gatton, one of the most powerful green witches that had ever walked the earth, had written down all of her spells in this book. It was easy magic, for it was used with herbs and energies, but the spells worked, and Sam hoped a few of them would be helpful for him.

Sam was desperate. You had been his best friend for as long as he could remember. He loved seeing you and Dean together, yourself and his brother needing love and something good in your lives. He loved you like a sister, and it would kill him if you died.

And then there was Bobby; you're adoptive father who loved you more than anything. Granted, he loved the Winchester boys as his own. But you were different. You were the sunshine that came into his life after his wife died. You were the one who ultimately brought a smile back to his face. He was the one who held your hand when you got your first surgery. He was the one who watched with a wide smile as you had your first violin solo in your orchestra at age thirteen. He was the one who watched as you got your high school diploma, his gray blue eyes teary as his heart filled with absolute pride. He was the one who watched chick flicks with you and held you as you cried over your first heartbreak. Bobby Singer was the only father you had really ever had, and you were his only child. Just the thought of you in the hands of that evil son of a bitch made him sick to his stomach.

Sam sat with a picture of you in his hand. You were eleven years old then. He smiled at how young you looked. Your plump, rosy cheeks and short cropped, shiny hair stood out against the dullness of Sam's own features. You were a bright spirit, noticeable in even photographs.

You had gone to live with Bobby a year prior the picture was taken and it was the first day you met the Winchesters. His eyes clouded over as he remembered the events that went down.

You were brushing your short cropped, H/C hair, your young eyes trained on yourself in the mirror. The soft creaks of Bobby's old house calmed you as you swayed slightly to the song on the radio on your dresser.

"Birdy? Can you come down for a moment?" Bobby called. Your lips twitched at the nickname he began calling you and you set down your hairbrush, bounding down the stairs and into the library.

An unfamiliar man stood in the room. He had brown hair and brown eyes, a starting of a beard dusting his face. The hard look in his eyes made you cringe, and you took Bobby's hand in your own.

***

"Who's this, Bobby?" The man asked, his gravelly voice piercing your ears.

"Y/N," Bobby answered. He glanced down at you for a moment. "She's my daughter."

"Daughter?" Another voice said. A young boy, around thirteen walked into the room then, a sandwich in hand.

"I'm adopted," You said, all the men looking down at you at the sound of your bell like voice. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N-Singer, pleased to meet you."

The man smiled. "I'm John Winchester. This here is one of my boys, Sam." Sam nodded at you and gave a friendly smile, taking another bite of his sandwich, his shaggy hair flopping at the movement.