Errare Humanum Est *Supernatural x Captain America*Steve x Reader*

4) Learning to breathe

You grew tired of staring at the screen after a while. There was so much information to look up, but you didn't even know what you should be looking for. You had to mentally confirm Dean's earlier words – brains were weird, like really freaking weird. You couldn't remember your favourite drink or food or the reality of soulmates. On the other hand, you knew how to operate a tablet and what the Internet was. The names Natasha and Ryan popped up in your mind with no obvious reason, Rogers striking something in you.

You wondered if any of those had to do something with your soulmate; your mind always ended up with him (and you were ninety percent sure they were a 'he'), still fascinating you.

You shut the tablet down and eyed the couch. You knew you weren't tired enough to fall asleep, your brain was too frantic for that, not to mention you had been sleeping (read dead, apparently), so you had your fill, but you didn't have too many options. Your feet itched to take a walk, but you resisted – Sam had been right, you couldn't just walk, less in the middle of a night. The alarm on a nightstand read 4 a.m. You had no clue when Sam and Dean were usually getting up.

You didn't know the men and their behaviour was puzzling you. They seemed to have never met you before, yet they were inclined to help you – with no outlook for a reward. God only knew why they were doing what they were and maybe quite literally the God. Castiel claimed to an angel after all. They had spoken of monsters. Who the hell were these guys?

It was hard to doubt their words – with little knowledge and unreliable sources on the internet, there was neither confirming nor denying their words. Then again, seeing Castiel just vanish into a thin air was pretty convincing.

You felt a headache starting to build up and decided to lie down on the couch at least, not even daring to hope for getting a shut-eye.

You were out in no time.

Gentle voice of a man you couldn't remember guided you into the dreamland while whispering senseless words; there was one though that struck something deep inside you, making you jolt awake with a gasp and a faint pleasant taste on your lips.

"Doll..." the soft sigh followed you to full consciousness, echoing in your ears, tingling your spine.

"Morning, Natasha," male voice greeted you and you yelped, spinning its direction, memories of yesterday events flooding your brain.

The tall long-haired man standing in the bathroom door was Sam and the man sitting on the bed, looking like he just woke up, short hair sticking in every direction and expression utterly confused, was Dean.

"S-sam," you stuttered, your mind elsewhere.

Doll. Doll.

It definitely sounded like an endearment. A pet-name. The man's voice was laced with emotions, gentle and warm, powerful and tender. You knew him. You must have known him, his name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to roll off and yet no sound came out when your lips parted. You blinked several times, chasing your dream, unable to add neither a name nor a face to the voice.

Your chest tightened, making it hard for you to breathe in, inexplicable fear squeezing your lungs, sudden tears gathering in your eyes.

"Natasha?" Sam's voice sounded from distance, strangely muffled. "Natasha? What's wrong? Can you hear me?"

Your eyes automatically snapped up when a gentle hand appeared on your shoulder; Sam's face was blurry, making you blink the salt droplets away.

Then, as if someone snapped their fingers, the suffocating feeling vanished and you welcomed the change with a fierce inhale.