Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Everyone Loves A Clown

*(y/n)'s POV*

The three of us stood outside and in front of a funeral pyre. Earlier, we placed John's body on it and Dean lite the fire and we stood there, watching the flames grow. The only light, in the night area, came from the wrapped, burning body. I swallowed the large lump in my throat then looked at the boys. Sam was near tears and fidgeting but Dean was staring into the flames, silently.

"Before he...before, did he say anything to you? About anything?" Sam asked Dean. "No. Nothing." Dean replied, flatly, not looking at his brother. I frown at the boys then I go stand in the space between the boys and, slowly, I take Sam's hand in my left hand then take Dean's with my right hand. And we stand there and watch the flames burn John's body.

One Week Later

I walked out on the junkyard at Bobby's home and walk over to the broken down Impala, Dean's legs sticking out from under it as he had been working on it since we stayed with Bobby. "How's the car coming along?" I asked him. "Slow." He replied, flatly.

"Yeah? Need any help?" I asked and Dean drops something heavy. "What, you under a hood? I'll pass." He grumbles and I rolled my eyes at him. "Need anything else, then?" I asked him, annoyed.

Dean, then, pushes himself out from under the car and stands up to me. "Stop it, (y/n)." He said. "Stop what?" I asked him, confused. "Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise." He said and I let out a scoff.

"All right, Dean, it's just...We've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up John once." I said to him. "You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance." He said and I glare at him. "Don't patronize me, Dean, John is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened." I shout.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asked, angrily. "Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car." I yelled at him. "Revenge, huh?" He said. "Yeah." I said.

"Sounds good. You and Sam got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you and Sam figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing, (y/n). Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car." He spat at me then he crouches by the car again, getting back to work.

I let out an exasperated sigh before I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around to see it was Sam coming towards us. "Well, I've got something." He said as he pulls out a cell phone. "This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." Sam said and he hands the cell phone to Dean, who stands and takes it reluctantly. 

"John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me." A female voice said after Dean plays the message. "That message is four months old." Sam said. "Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asked him. "Yeah." Sam said.

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in your dad's journal?" I asked Sam. "No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address." Sam said. "Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars." Dean said and Sam nods.

In a beat-up, poorly maintained minivan, Dean, Sam and I pull up to an old bar that was called Roadhouse Saloon. "This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!" Dean grumbles as we get out of the van. "It's the only car Bobby had running." Sam said and we walk up and start to look around.