Beneath

Upon return

Dean threw his duffel onto the large table in the middle of the Bunker, which landed with an obnoxiously loud clatter. 

Looking up from your comfortably situated position in one of the oak chairs, feet up on the table, you raise an eyebrow at him in silent question. Instead of responding, Dean's green eyes merely meet your own with guarded emotion, holding something that is quite undecipherable. 

He barges away into the kitchen instead, and moments later you hear the sound of a bottle of beer being opened. Rolling your eyes, you turn your head to Sam, who has his head buried in his iPad - already knee-deep in research despite returning to the Bunker so shortly ago. 

"what's up with Sharpay in there?" you direct the question at Sam.

He flickers his eyes to your face quickly, before sighing a little and looking downwards again. 

Your eyes narrow. Winchesters, you think to yourself. Typical. 

"Fine" you get up, grabbing your grey denim jacket off the back of the chair and scooping your bag off of the floor. "Let me know when you princesses decide to stop guarding your feelings".

You are out of the door before a word of protest can meet your ears.

--- 

"Dean!" Sam yells from his seat, and the older brother appears almost immediately, eyes scanning the room.

"She gone?" 

At Sams' nod, Dean runs a calloused hand over his face, stress adorning his features. "This has to stop, man" he says to Sam. "She complains at us for being guarded, but this...come on!" One foot seems to almost involuntarily lash out, as he kicks at a bookshelf, causing it to rattle.

Sam stands up, shutting the iPad with a snap of one wrist. "I can't believe she's acting like nothing happened"

"And what, exactly, may that be?" 

At the sound of your voice, the Winchesters spin in tandem to see you at the top of the stairs. "Forgot my car keys" you explain, starting to slowly descend the staircase. "And no, i don't want to talk about it" 

Watching you saunter into your room, the two brothers turn to meet each others gazes and come to the same unspoken conclusion. Together, they march after you. 

"Hey!" Dean's gruff voice is raised. "You can't run from us. You don't run from us. Not from me, not from Sam" he pauses as you slow your walking. 

"not from your family" he adds quietly. 

"y/n" Sam gently takes hold of your arm, turning you to face them. "We heard what the demon said to you, and..." he hesitates, "we saw what you did to yourself." He shook his head, splaying messy brown locks everywhere. "I'm sorry we found out this way, but...we know now. And you can talk to us"

You regard them for a few heartbeats, unshed tears brewing behind your eyes. 

No, you wouldn't break this easily. Instead, spinning round to reach into your room and grab the keys on your bedside table, you carry on walking as if nothing happened. 

The Winchesters watch you go, a heaviness on their shoulders; unbeknownst to you, of course. What they did not realise, however, was that the same heaviness was now becoming even more prominent within your chest. You had lived with these secrets for too long, suppressed them and hidden them for so long, that they felt too complex to share with a single soul; even the two people who knew you inside and out.