Supernatural [Reader Insert]

2. Pancakes and Bacon

You woke up the next day to sunlight streaming in through a small window and a dense comforter wrapped around you. There was a moment of panic when you had no idea where you were, followed by the strange feeling of being lost when you remembered the events of the day before.

"Oh, Toto. We're a helluva long ways from Kansas," you found yourself mumbling in an attempt to feel a little better. On second thought, we're just in a different Kansas, you amended the statement in your head. 

 When you pushed the blanket off, you discovered that your shoes had been removed. They were the only things that you didn't have now but had entered this world with, besides your gun. That had been forgotten when you were trying not to pass out.  So, contrary to popular fanfiction themes, the Winchesters had not undressed you. The fangirls would still be jealous, of course. That thought put a small grin on your face. You made to sit up while leaning on your right arm, but the small shot of pain you received reminded you of the cut there. Your bandaging was hanging off your arm by the medical tape used to adhere it to you, and you were surprised when your eyes met what the bandage was supposed to be covering. It felt and looked dramatically better than it had before. Your left hand reached up and tugged the bandage off.  You sat on the edge of the bed for a moment and stared at where the bleeding hole used to be- where there was now a closed slit surrounded by stitching and bruising- then turned quickly to inspect the comforter for your blood.  When you didn't find any stains you assumed the bandage must have clung to your arm long enough for it to stop bleeding. You had thought it would take much longer than this for the wound to heal, but apparently it hadn't been as bad as you had thought. You were sure you had reopened it when you had fired at Virgil, though.

You looked down at your brightly striped socks, unsure what to think about your situation. Maybe my mind would be clearer if I cleaned up a little.

For another short moment you sat quietly on the bed.  You could hear the Winchesters in the other room through the thin walls, but not loud enough to make out what they were discussing. You stood with a deep breath, then let it out with a sigh as you made your way to the bedroom door.  You opened it slowly and saw that the only other doorway in the short hallway led into a bathroom.  Upon entering you found only enough room for you to stand in front of the small vanity, big enough to house the sink and a cabinet below. Behind you was the toilet and next to you was a shower and tub combo.  You tried to freshen up as much as you could. You made sure to rinse off the crusty blood that had started to flake off around your wound, and then gently wash the area.  You found an antiseptic in the cabinet behind the mirror and dabbed some of it around the stitches. Halfway through you had opted to put your untidy hair up into a messy bun so that it was out of the way, remembering to go easy with your right arm as you lifted it to gather your hair. After your arm had been dealt with you poked around in the medicine cabinet again and found some toothpaste and an unopened toothbrush. You brushed your teeth , rinsed your face, and then straightened out your shirt.

You walked out into the hallway and heard a refrigerator door close.

"Man, it's good to be back," you heard Dean say.   You walked into the living room as he handed Sam a beer.  Sam sat on the couch and you noticed that the window behind him had been fixed.

Sam noticed you first and greeted you with a, "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Uh," you glanced at your arm again, "good. Better than yesterday."

"Wow," Dean took a step closer and inspected the wound, "I'd say."

"Good," Sam nodded with a grin, "And that whole thing with Cas teleporting and then feeling sick is totally normal. The first time it happened to us we were—"