Supernatural (Sam Winchester x Female!Reader)

Night Shifter

The boys and I were in a jewelry store, looking into a murder that could be a case. Dean was questioning a woman while Sam and I talked to the manager. Every now and again, I glance up at Sam to see him with his hair slicked, a sight I never get tired of seeing.

"Helena was our head buyer. She... she was family, you know? She said it herself, every year at the Christmas party. She said we were the only family she had." The manager said. "So there were never any signs that she'd do something like this?" Sam asked.

"No. Still can't believe it, even now. That night, Helena came back to the store after closing. Cleaned out all the display cases, and the safe. Edgar.. our night watchman... he caught her in the act. He didn't know what to do, he'd known her for years. He called me at home." He explained.

"And that's when she took his gun?" I asked. "She shot him in the face. I heard him die. Over the phone." He replied. "Any idea what her motive could have been?" Sam asked.

"What motive? It makes no sense. Why steal all those diamonds, all that jewelry, and then what? Just dump it somewhere, just hide it, and then go home and she killed herself." The manager said, Sam and I exchanged a look.

"She killed herself?" I asked. "The police said, she dropped the hair dryer in the bath and fried herself." He said. "What about the security footage?" I asked. "I didn't see." The manager said and we look at him, confused.

"So you never saw the security camera footage yourself, then?" Sam asked. "No. The police, they took all the tapes, first thing." He said as Dean approaches to join us. "Yeah, of course they did." Dean said, waving a piece of paper at Sam and I.

Leaving the jewelry store, we drove down a dark street and pull up in front of a small house. "Five... this is it." Sam said. "Friggin' cops." Dean grumbled. "They're just doing their job, Dean." I said.

"No, they're doing our job, only they don't know it, so they suck at it." Dean growled as we got out of the car. "Talk to me about this bank." He said as we approached the house. "Uh, Milwaukee National Trust. It was hit about a month ago." Sam said.

"Same M.O. as the jewelry store?" Dean asked. "Yep, inside job, longtime employee, the never-in-a-million-years type. Dude robs the bank, then goes home and supposedly commits suicide." Sam said. "The guy Resnick, he was the security guard on duty?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. He was actually beaten unconscious by the teller who heisted the place." I said. "God." Dean muttered. "Yeah." I replied and Sam knocked on the screen door. "Mr. Resnick? Ronald Resnick?" He called out. A bright floodlight turns on, and we shield our eyes. "Son of a..." Dean growled.

A youngish man comes to the door, warily. "FBI, Mr. Resnick." Sam said. "Let me see the badge." The man said, through the screen. We pull out our badges and slap them against the screen door in unison, Ronald squints at them carefully. "I already gave my statement to the police." He said.

"Yeah, listen Ronald, um... just some things about your statement we wanted to get some clarification on." Dean said. "You read it?" Ronald asked, surprised. "Sure did." Dean replied.

"You come to listen to what I've got to say?" Ronald asked us. "Well, that's why we're here." I said. "Well. Come on in." Ronald said, opening the door and led us through a narrow hallway to a cluttered room. The walls were covered with alien photos and conspiracy theory paraphernalia.

"None of the cops ever called me back. Not after I told them what was really going on. Uh, they all thought I was crazy. First off, Juan Morales never robbed the Milwaukee National Trust, okay? That, I guarantee. See, we and Juan were friends. He used to come back to the bank on my night shifts, and we'd play cards." Ronald explained.