Buy Me Dinner First [Dean Winchester x Reader]

2} Job Done

By the time I saunter in through the front door, it's early morning and my freezing body is aching all over, begging for rest and a few liquid tonnes of morphine.

I quietly take my shoes off, peeling off my leather jacket carefully and making my way to the kitchen, opening one of the cabinets and pulling out a first aid kit, smiling as I notice it's been restocked since I was last home.

I do what I can for the scratches on my arms, cleaning them and making sure the deeper ones are stitched closed and covered but when it comes to my ribs, there's really nothing I can do so I check the bruising and move on, taking some of the stronger pain killers I can find in the cupboards.

A gun reloads behind me and I smile, turning to face the older man I'd never admit I had begun missing.

"Hey Bobby, did you miss me?" I say sweetly, already grabbing at the canister of holy water he keeps and splashing a small amount on my lower arm, showing him the lack of bubbling flesh. He puts the gun down and comes towards me, taking a look at everything and frowning at the badly stitched cuts.

"Am I just a free hospital to you? You only seem to come to me when you're half dead and want to use all my medical supplies." He grumbles, watching me wince with every breath and gesturing towards my rib. "You rode home with a broken rib?"

"Well we don't know it's broken but yes. I'm going to get out of these horrible clothes and then I'll tell you about the hunt." I yawn, smiling at him and limping up the stairs, Bobby packing up the supplies behind me.

Bobby isn't my dad, we aren't even related, but when I'm not on the move he lets me stay here. Of course, I'm always on the move when I can be, I've got bitches to hunt and skulls to crack.

I take my time changing into a pair of loose shorts, a sports bra and a really baggy t-shirt, cringing at every movement I make. It sure feels bad but as I meet Bobby downstairs again and he checks them over he says it's probably only a fracture and that I'm lucky but very bruised.

"So, I assume you sorted out the problem?" He asks, staring at me with concern clearly on his face.

"Yep, that nest is gone now, I saved all the missing girls and my hero complex is thriving once more." I joke, moving to the fridge and taking out pretty much all the food that caught my eye, my stomach growling loudly.

"That's good to hear, did you find out any more about your dad?" He probes gently, grabbing me a plate and handing it to me before I scatter crumbs throughout the entire household.

"No. Nothing as usual, I'm starting to think he never even bloody existed!" I grumble, wolfing down the food quickly and placing my dishes in the sink to start washing them up.

Bobby interrupts, gently redirecting me to the bottom of the stairs,

"I've got this, you need to go and lie down, don't even think about getting up until you've actually slept." He orders, fixing me with a pointed stare.

"Sir yes sir." I shoot back, mock saluting him before obeying him, heading to the spare room and flopping onto the mattress, closing my eyes and almost instantly being consumed by sleep.

Terrible, nightmare ruled sleep.

------

"You boys are a bunch of idjits, I'm coming out there now before one of you gets killed." Bobby grunts, hanging up the phone and turning to see me in the living room doorway, frowning as if he'd forgotten I'd shown up a few days ago.

"Everything ok?" I ask, moving to the chair by the window that I'd claimed as my own and picking up a book I don't recognise the cover of, flipping through it to find the pages filled with a dead language that takes me a few minutes to translate in my head.

"John's boys are in a bit of a fix, they're only a few hours away so I'm heading out this morning to help them. You good staying here alone?" He asks, packing up a small bag with a few books and a canister of salt.

"I'll be fine, but will you? If that dick's kids are anything like him then you shouldn't go." I grumble, remembering just how badly I got along with John.

"(Y/n), I've been looking after his sons since they were little boys, I'll be damned if I stop now." He sighs, throwing the bag over his shoulder and giving me a pointed look which I mockingly return, crossing my arms across my chest and squinting slightly at him.

"Well then give me that pile of books you want translated, I'll sort them out whilst I'm not exactly mobile." I relent and he hesitates before nodding and heading to his bedroom, returning with a large box full of dusty tomes.

"You sure? There's a lot I haven't gotten around to yet."

Giving the box a once over, I smile and nod, taking Bobby's notepad from the top of the pile and glancing over his notes, smiling at a few errors.

"You know me, Bobby, languages are my shit." I chuckle at his disapproving face and get up to see him out of the front door, making sure to lock it behind me and then heading back to the stack of books, quickly losing myself in translating them.

---

Four books in and I take a minute to carefully stretch, testing out the limits of flexibility with a fractured rib. Surprisingly, I can move it a fair bit without much fuss; that sleep must have done wonders for my injuries.

Checking the old clock hanging on the wall opposite me, I realise it's getting pretty late and I haven't eaten at all, much to my stomach's dismay. I pick up my notepad and book, heading to the kitchen, routinely grabbing the comforting leather jacket and wrapping it around me as I walk to the fridge to grab a snack and keep my hunger at bay for the time being.

I check my phone to find no texts or missed calls, probably a good sign, right?

I lazily pace around the kitchen, eating my poor excuse of a sandwich as I glance over a fresh book, a language I don't think I've seen before but is fascinatingly predictable nonetheless.

Caught in the scripture, I barely hear my phone ringing and stand in a rush to answer it,

"Hey, Bobby, these texts are real interesting, when are you due home?" I casually talk as I chew and receive only heavy breathing as a response.

"Bobby?" I try again, pulling the phone away from my ear to check the call is still ongoing. "Did you just butt dial me, old man?"

"..."

"Bobby, quit screwing around before I find you and smack some sense into you." Even through the anger in my voice I hear the waver, the fear of doubt. "Bobby-"

A scream cuts me off, deep and full of pain, making me flinch as I listen carefully for any clue of where this call is coming from and quickly run to the laptop in the living room, opening it and starting to track the call as fast as possible, revealing a location two hours away.

I just hope Bobby can wait that long for me.