Supernatural (Sam Winchester x Female!Reader)

Bad Day At Black Rock

(Name's) P.O.V
"Because Demon, that's why. I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the holy water! You don't chat!" Dean yelled at Sam, as we traveled down a dark road, in the Impala. "No one was chatting, Dean." Sam said, defensively.

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you send her ass back to Hell?" Dean asked. "Because... Because she said she might be able to help us out!" Sam replied. "How?" I asked, but he doesn't answer. "No really, Sam, how? How could she possibly help us?" Dean asked him.

"She told me she could help you guys, Okay?" Sam exclaimed. Dean and I look at him, not understanding. "Help you out of the crossroads deal." Sam said and we looked at him incredulously.

"What is wrong with you, huh? She's lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is... it's us." Dean yelled and I let out a sigh. "What else did she say?" I asked and Sam reminded silent. "Sam?" I said, exasperated.

"Nothing... Nothing, okay?! Look I'm not an idiot guys, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it." Sam explained.

"You're okay right, I mean you're feeling okay?" Dean asked him. "YES I'M FINE, Why are you always asking me that?" Sam asked, irritated. A phone then starts ringing. Sam sighs and reaches for his own. "It's not mine." He said.

I took out my phone seeing it wasn't ringing. "Not it." I said and Dean goes for his. "Nope." He said and pauses. "Check the glove compartment, it's Dad's." He said to Sam. "Dad's?" Sam asked "Yes, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call." Dean said.

Sam opens the glove compartment, finding John's phone and answers it. "Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Casey... No! No, no, no, don't... don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I-I uh, I don't have my... my book in front of me." Sam said and gestures to Dean and I for a pen.

I grabbed my bag, grabbing a pen and handing it to Sam. "Do you.. do you have the address so I can... Sure, okay. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot." Sam said, writing down the address and ending the call.

"Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?" He asked Dean. "What?" Dean asked, confused. "Outside of Buffalo?" Sam asked. "No way." Dean said. "Yeah. And someone just broke into it." Sam said.

"Man..." Dean muttered, as we took an elevator down. "What?" Sam asked. "Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man." Dean replied. "Well, we're about to learn something." Sam said, as the elevator came to a stop.

We exit the elevator and found the storage container. Dean unlocks the padlock and opens the sliding door, with our flashlights at the ready. On the dusty floor of the container is a symbol drawn in red, along with several bloody footprints.

"No demons allowed." I muttered. "Blood. Check this out." Dean said and he holds up a tripwire which is attached to a shotgun hidden in a large animal skull. "Whoever broke in here got tagged." Sam said.

"Dear old Dad. I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking." Dean said. "So what's the deal? Dad would do work here or something?" Sam asked. "Living the high life, as usual." Dean replied and we venture further inside.

Dean aims his flashlight on the skull and shakes his head, laughing. Sam looks over a desk while I picked up a trophy from a filing cabinet, scraping the dust off. "1995." I read aloud. "No way!" Sam exclaimed, coming over to me. "That's my Division Championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this." He said taking the trophy, scraping more dust off it.