Maybe It's Not So Bad - Plus Sized Reader

Eleven

The door was wrenched open and a dishevelled amazon of a woman greeted us, first with a smile and then with a faltered look of disappointment and uncertainty.

"Um, yeah?" She asked, her eyes flickering between the shorter witch and myself.

"Hey," I smiled, patting Camille's shoulder, "Naomi, right?"

Naomi stood up straight as her jaw tensed, reminding me of a typical Sam reaction for a flickering moment, her eyes hardening as she stared Camille down.

"Yes," she answered cautiously.

"Great, I think you know why I'm here."

From the corner of my eye I noticed Camille cower away a little, her mouth moving in what I assumed to be a sheepish apology to the one glaring daggers at her.

"I suppose I do," Naomi finally said through gritted teeth.

"Excellent, so mind letting us in?"

"Now?" She scoffed an incredulous laugh, "do you know what time it is?"

"I'm fully aware," I replied, my face setting seriously, "but this is important, people are dying."

We stare at each other for an uncomfortably long time before she finally breaks the tension, looking away from me with a loaded sigh while stepping to one side.

"Fine, come in."

I looked to Camille as Naomi set to one side, holding my hand out to her to indicate that she was welcome to go in ahead of me.

Neither of them acknowledged me as they walked down the hallway, presumably to the living room, muttering to themselves while leaving me to come inside and close the door behind myself.

It didn't particularly bother me, being an unwelcome guest left behind meant that it gave me a chance to double check the protection mark Sam had drawn on my arm after finding it in a book he had acquired, though he wouldn't tell me how.

This was a desperate attempt to try and keep me safe while in the stranger's house, but whether it would work or not was a completely different matter, Sam had only been able to give me a slight shrug and a less than reassuring smile.

Were I religious, I would have crossed myself before stepping down the hall to meet the two girls, who had already perched themselves on the edge of the couch, ready for an interrogation.

---

"Okay, so if this chick isn't our witch, then that narrows us down by two people out of how many in this town?"

Dean looked to Sam with utter annoyance, like a cranky child who missed nap time and was still being kept up beyond their bedtime.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, looking at his brother in concern, shifting a little on the spot.

"Honestly? No, I hate witches."

Sam scoffed a laugh and shook his head, looking at the quiet street around them.

"I know, you never fail to tell me every time a witch case comes up."

"Yeah, because something always happens when witches are involved, as far as I'm concerned, we've got off lucky so far."

"In the grand scheme of things," Sam nodded, "missing junk food yet?"

"Every second I breathe."

He smiled in amusement and shrugged lightly.

"With any luck the curses will be lifted tonight and you can gorge yourself in the morning while we do the rest of the work."

"That would be great, I could really go for some greasy bacon right about now."

"Now you're making me hungry."

"It's okay for you," Dean shifted on the spot much like Sam had, crossing his legs as he rested his back against the impala. "So, you gonna take advantage of the extra cushion before the curses are lifted?"

Sam looked down at Dean with slightly widened eyes, his eyebrows raised.

"What?"

"You know, put those hips t-"

"Yeah, I got what you meant, that isn't what I was getting at."

They both look at one another, a silent conversation passing between them both before Dean shrugged and broke the moment.

"Just saying."

Sam rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to either protest or resign, only to be cut off by a shriek of utter terror and the clacking of heels against pavement.

Both brothers jumped away from the car, ready for an encounter as a blonde girl ran down the street, her eyes widened in horror as she neared them, a streetlight mere feet away highlighting grotesque boils bubbling up her bare arms.

Another figure stood shadowed at the end of the street, watching on before taking off in another direction.