You just got done with a hunt and you walked in the bunker, sore, and your brothers Sam and Dean follow behind you, just as sore as you.
"Imma go take a shower." You sighed, walking down the stairs.
With no answer from the boys, you go in the bathroom and lock the door. They never know how to knock, especially Dean. It annoyed you.
You take off your clothes and go toward the mirror. There was a tiny cut on your left side of your stomach from a knife fight you just went through and won. You rolled your eyes and took a rag with water and wiped it down. You wince from the pain. It was tiny, but it hurt like a bitch.
After, you went into the shower and let all your bruises and cuts hit the water, making it ease the pain just a little.
Honestly, you were tired of this. You did promise your dad that you would help Sam and Dean with the hunting and finish what your dad has started. You always did things that were the best for anyone else, but what about you?
You wanted to stop being a hunter and go back to college and study art, because you were a pretty damn good artist, until your brothers took you out of college to hunt, but then again hunting is in your blood. Being a hunter is a "privilege" Dean may say, but to you, it was hell.
You liked it in some situations where you actually won the hunt. So most of the times you liked it because you were with your brothers the whole time, feeling safe, protected. The bad times wanted to make you stop being one. Seeing Sam and Dean suffer while you were living your life, and vise versa.
You three are pretty close, impossible to separate. To yourself, you were thinking "how would they be without me? Would they be more likely to save the world without me? Are they better without me?" Thoughts went in your mind while you were taking the shower.
You rinse off the conditioner from your hair then quickly wash your body.
*After the shower*
You walked out with a flannel on and leggings, drying your hair with the towel, heading to the library where you see Dean drinking a beer while reading a spell book and Sam sipping on some coffee typing away on his laptop. You sighed, walking towards them, nervous.
"Oh hey, Y/N, translate this for me." Dean tossed a book that was written in a different languages. You also studied languages in college, knowing almost every language.
Almost dropping it, you did what he said, but a little voice in your head was telling you to be honest with your brothers. How you feel about this hunter stuff.
"It says you need to trap the demon in fire. We already know that." You pointed out. You shut the book and slammed it on the table, letting the book slam show what you're feeling.
"Y/N, you ok?" Sam questioned, looking up from his laptop. You caught Sam staring at you, so you walked behind Sam, ignoring his eye contact.
"Yeah." You simply answered, blandly.
Sam shrugged his shoulders, ignoring your depressing "Yeah." He continued to type on his laptop.
"Imma go grab a beer." You raced out, hoping you'd gotten away from the awkwardness in the library that was choking you inside.
You opened the fridge, seeing the last corona sitting on the second shelf.
"Ha, mine now." You laughed to yourself.
You closed the fridge, and hopped down the stairs with a little pip in your step.
"Guys." You say in remorse but in courage, hoping they'd answer your pitiful word.
