cut- 𝐃.𝐖

chapter 8

tw // mention of childhood abuse/trauma

Breakfast wasn't as bad. The three of you chatted about past hunts, smiles being on your faces most of the time. Dean was mostly interested in your childhood, but you tried to avoid it. You didn't want to share your issues about your torn family just yet. However, you did share that you were babysat by the one and only, Ellen Harvelle.

The two were extremely shocked, only knowing her and her daughter for a short period of time. While your mother was out hunting, she would call Ellen over or you would be dropped off at the bar unexpectedly. Of course, it wasn't a hassle for her.

Ellen would give you snacks and some soda, and give you a place to stay. If William, her husband, wasn't hunting, he would teach you how to fix up cuts or bites if you were helping out your mom. Both the Harvelles knew of your mother's drinking problems, but didn't really know how to help out in her situation.

Between the ages 5-13, you would be on and off dropped off at the Roadhouse. You would help Ellen babysit little Jo, when she was born when you were six. Being the child you were, you played around with Jo and she was the sister you always wanted. When you told Sam and Dean that, they of course thought of each other. She was your Sam, a younger sibling who would be there for her.

When you were fourteen, your mom stopped taking you to the Roadhouse. You always seemed to wonder, and you asked a few times. That question would only cause a nice slap to the face and a yelling at. You were told not to bring it up, and never to mention the Harvelles ever again. You were given a cell phone by then, and you luckily were able to get Ellen's phone number just in case of emergencies.

You smiled, remembering the one time you beat a group of men at the pool at age twelve. Dean, already being the god of the game, doubted that. "You're lying. You did not do that at twelve." he said, trying to hold back laughter. Sam looked at you and smiled, "Dean says he's been doing it since he was able to walk. He's just upset that he has someone as good as him in the family now.".

When Sam said this, you felt a little warmth in your heart. Being told that you, a nobody your whole life, being accepted into the most dysfunctional family ever had actually made you happy. You smiled and took the final sip of your coffee. Realizing it was empty, that meant that it was time to finally go check out the crime scene that took place over the night hours.

You stood up and grabbed your phone from the table, it had read '10:43 AM'. You've been with the brothers for about two hours now. "Ok boys, police are probably on that scene on that trail by now. We should get all fancied and make our way over there before they collect the body." you said.

Sam and Dean spoke in agreement, because Dean still hadn't gotten a shower yet this morning. Sam went to the bathroom again, probably about to fix his hair. Dean, however, just went straight to his duffle bag and seemed to grab out his clothes for the day.

Before you left to go get ready, you went over to Dean and patted his head. "Sorry for scaring the shit out of you earlier, I thought it was funny." You spoke, feeling a little bad for him. He turned around and looked a little down on you. "It's okay Y/N, just don't do it again or else I actually might shoot you." Dean said, giving a little smile. Just then, he pulled you into a hug.

Man, his hugs were the FUCKING BEST. His big arms wrapped around your smaller figure, and he just gave off this...magic vibes that made you feel more welcomed with him. He smelled of apples, like a brand new candle just started to burn. He was wearing what he wore last night, so just his jeans and a black t-shirt. You could f e e l his arm muscles against your back, and it gave you a sense of comfort. Knowing that your soulmate could beat the hell out of somebody was pretty funny.

Dean looked down and kissed your forehead, giving you a little blush on your cheeks. You nuzzled into him a little more, resting your head into his neck. After about a few minutes, he let you go. "Go get ready, dork." he said to you, putting his hand on your shoulder. Nodding, you made your way to the door that separated the two rooms and closed it behind you.

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As the time flew by, you were already sitting in the backseat of the Impala with the two boys. The scene was probably fifteen-twenty minutes away. It was located in Darling State Park, which was the national grounds that Burke was popularized for. Mostly for skiing and the mountain that stood in the park.

It was a ski resort, and because of the current weather, it was filled with so many different people. The late winter time was nice for the Vermont town, many tourists would come in to ski or just enjoy themselves. However, this tourist didn't make it out alive.

As the three of you made your way out of the car, you watched as the coroners took the body away. Sam stopped them so he dispersed from you and Dean, leaving the two of you to talk to the same sheriff from yesterday. "What's today's story?" Dean said, looking at the sheriff.

He turned around, and looked you up and down before answering your soulmate. "Young tourist. Probably around 16-17. He was about to go for an early morning ski on the mountain only a few hours ago. When he didn't come back, his family went up there and found him frostbitten. He was only up there for about an hour or two." The sheriff said.

You stood next to Dean, the two of you bundled up in long pants and the button up shirts. The two of you matched, both with a black blazer and a light blue tie. You had your notepad again, and you wore some dark purple gloves to keep your hands warm. 'You look like Barney gave you his hands Y/N!' Dean said while the three of you were in the car a while ago.

Smiling at the memory, you turned to Dean. You poked his shoulder to get his attention, "i'm gonna go talk to the family real quick. Don't do anything stupid." you said. He nodded, and you made your way over to the family. Walking up to them, you pulled out your badge.

"I'm Agent McVie from the FBI. I have a few questions for whoever found the victim's body. If that's okay with you guys." You spoke, trying to keep a positive tone. The family consisted of the mother and father, both in tears, and a young boy. He was probably around 7-8. The boy looked mortified, almost pale. It may be from the weather, but he was already bundled up in a scarf and a jacket.

The mother looked up, sniffling her nose. She turned to her younger child and whispered something into his ear. He then looked up and came walking towards you. You had placed your hand on his back and led him away from his parents. Turning to face him, you squatted down in the snow and looked him in his eyes.

"Hey kiddo. My name is Y/N and i'm gonna ask you some questions, is that alright?" you spoke. He nodded, and you had pulled out your notebook. Pushing your pen down to start writing, you started to ask questions,  "Did you see what happened to your brother? Or did you find him like this?"

The boy was speechless. He opened his mouth, and nothing came out.  It was like he had SEEN a ghost. I mean, he was young and probably still had his innocence before he walked up to whatever happened. You told him to take his time, and after a few seconds he explained his situation.

"J-Josh went out to go on the m-mountain. We were g-going to g-go get breakfast and m-mommy told me to find him. S-She sent me out and then i f-found him and something." the boy said. You nodded and told him to keep going. He then told you that the 'something' was making him do something. And that the two of them seemed to mirror one another.

You tilted your head. "You mean, your brother was copying something?" you asked. The younger one shook his head and you jotted it down into your notepad. That was extremely odd for something to do that. He then told you how he watched his brother take off his skiing items and covered himself in snow. The young one seemed terrified as he told you that he was yelling for help but he couldn't move.

This was new, even for you. You never seemed to hunt something that mirrored the victim. Or the victim was mirroring it?

What kind of thing would have done that?