Abducted: Part Three | SPN | Dean x Reader

Chapter 08: On The Way To Oregon

June 2015

In total, you had managed two whole, official, snow days. The first included your day in Wichita, a 'normal couple' day as Dean had called it, shopping, and dining after a multitude of purchases, including a new phone for you. You had also convinced Dean to choose a small silver flask, which you had engraved at the store you bought it from with yours and his initials. He was hesitant about it at first, but seemed to appreciate the funny side of your original joke in the end.

You also came home with three new dresses, one of which you were wearing at present. It was a simple floral print, mid length sundress, in a colour that matched your skin tone perfectly. Dean had spotted and chosen this one specifically off the rack, wanting you to try it on. Surprisingly, he had good taste. Perhaps that came with the hunters eye?

As for your second day of rest and relaxation. That was spent hanging out at the bunker, in the confines of your room, Netflix and chilling. Emphasis on the chilling of course. Dean insisted on starting something new together, but as you couldn't come to an agreement on what that should be, you ended up finishing the Indiana Jones franchise you'd started before your break up.

Six days later, or was it five, you now sat at the library table in your sundress, researching Amara solo. In front of you, the old manila folder that had collected dust for months and contained your abduction files, sat open, the contents spread across the table. In particular you were looking at Dean's handwritten notes of your life history, trying to jog your mind of any detail it could recall about Charles and what he had told you.

His favourite food? Eggs benny with a side of bacon and avocado on ciabatta from the local cafe you used to eat breakfast at every other Sunday at the Rocks. Washed down with a long black, or two and sometimes a macchiato. Well that information was useless.

His favourite movie? Well he didn't have a favourite. He loved all stories but in particular he liked to immerse himself in ones about hero's. The type that overcame adversity in surprising ways. Whether they were like Superman, coming from a small town and being humble. Or someone like MacGyver who used cunning and ingenuity. He never went for those like Batman who had money or the mutants in X-men who were sheltered by Professor Xavier. His interests really did contradict each other and you couldn't pick out any pattern whatsoever.

In the scheme of things, all these details were of least import. What you really needed to recall was anything he'd told you about his sister Amara.

He had suggested on multiple occasions that she was in jail, but he had never really used that word. She was locked up, or detained, because she had problems, issues. And in hindsight, you realised you had almost always fed him answers to the questions you'd asked about her. Or anything really.

Was she locked up? Yup. So she was in jail? Yup. What did she do? Dark things... Fuck. Seriously. There had been clues, this entire time. Well, not really. You would've needed to know that something was up in the first place.

"Cheeky cunt." you muttered as the sound of footsteps walking towards you caught your attention.

Looking up, you turned your head to see Dean step up into the library, wearing shorts. "Who's a cunt?" he asked with a big grin on his face.

"Charles..." you sighed, looking at his legs with interest. He wasn't wearing shorts, he'd cut up a pair of his jeans by the looks. As your finger moved to point in the direction of his bare legs you commented, "What's with the..."

"Shorts? Come on. You've never seen a guy wear shorts before?"

"Please. I grew up in Australia! You could walk around in thongs and I wouldn't bat an eyelid, but shorts? I've just never seen you wear them before..." you stuttered. "What's the occasion?"