I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

I Missed You

"Victim's name was Holly Beckett, forty-one, single," Dean spoke almost immediately after getting out of the car, his voice hoarse and shoulders tense. I gripped my arms, nails digging harshly into my coat, a vice grip on my upper arms to quell the gentle shaking of my body. The scent of ash clung to my clothes, stuck to my hair, and stained my skin. I wanted a shower, to rid myself of the smell of death.

I always hated that smell. It was putrid, like acid, and made me gag. The stench of death coupled with our sudden lack of a lead was enough to make me dizzy. We were back at square one. If it wasn't Andy, then who?

"Who is she?" Sam questioned, both already focused once more on the case at hand. I lifted my gaze only to find Andy already staring. His cheeks flushed and he looked away quickly. I knew he wasn't quite sure what to think of Andrew and me -- he had just seen us turn into canines after all.

I cast a glance over my shoulder at my companion, Andrew's deep eyes locked on the ground as he fiddled with his hands, as though unsure what he should be doing. Bits of ash sat nestled in the strands of his red hair and a sunken look was etched onto his features. He was shocked, unsure of how to respond to such a brutal death.

I wished he didn't have to be involved in this case - if I could go back now and tell him to stay home, I would have. Hell, I would have gone back four years and told him to skip his stupid basketball game if I had the chance. None of them deserved the title of monster and the pain that came with it, nor the burden of being a hunter.

"Dean called Ash on the way back," I mumbled, barely loud enough for Sam to understand, and leaned against the side of the Impala, arms folded tightly, a stern glare fixated on Andy's sloppy form. "Holly Beckett gave birth in 1983, the same day Andy was born."

Sam did a double-take and spun to face Andy, who was nervously scratching the back of his neck. I could see it in his eyes that he jumped to the same conclusion that Dean and I had. "Andy, you were adopted?"

Andy sputtered, his hands flailing as though he was attempting to convey some sort of message without words. "Well yeah- I mean, it never really came up. I- I never knew my birth parents, and- and like you said my adopted mom died when I was a baby -- do you, do you think this Holly woman could actually be my m-"

"We don't know," Dean interrupted. I shot him a glare for cutting Andy off, who clearly was having a hard enough time getting his thoughts together without Dean abruptly ending them. "I looked for a copy of your birth records, but they're hard-copy only, sealed in the county office. Bit hard to break into."

"Well, screw that," Andy scoffed, his shock suddenly gone. His confidence returned with full force in a matter of seconds, knowing he could finally do something to help. With a few quick strides towards the Impala, he slipped into the passenger's seat and then stuck his head back out the open door. "You guys coming or not?"

---

I passed another file to Sam and Andrew, a notepad between them, from the rather heavy cardboard box on the table. Instead of being on the two boys, my eyes were fixated on Andy, narrowed with interest as he spoke to a security guard. The two walked towards the glass front door of the county office, talking like they had been friends for years.

"Probably shouldn't have left you kids in here," the guard attempted to scold, although his voice came out almost detached like he wasn't quite thinking straight. Andy waved off his concerns with whatever lie he had made the man believe and ushered him out the door with some quick words. The guard nodded, hobbled slowly down the steps, and disappeared from sight.

Andy spun on his heels to face us, a wide grin on his face and arms thrown open in a gesture of success. "These aren't the 'droids you're looking for," he joked, earning an eye roll from myself and an awed laugh from Dean. My lips spread into a grin as Andy laughed playfully once more, looking relieved that the plan had worked. He always looked relieved, as if he expected something to go wrong at any moment.