A Supernatural x Reader Story

Chapter Eleven: Red Sky at Morning

"So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs," Dean says, interrupting the silence on the drive from a vengeful comatose spirit case.  "You got something to tell me?"

He says it quietly enough for you to know that he is talking to Sam, who looks at him, confused.  "It's not your birthday," Sam says, still unsure.  "'Happy Purim'?  Dude, I don't know.  I have no idea what you're talking –"

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt," Dean states.  "You want to tell me how that happened?"

Sam shakes his head, feigning innocence.

"I know it wasn't me.  It could have been (Y/N)," he continues, gesturing with his head to the backseat, where you sit, "but I doubt it.  So, unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans..."

"Dean – "

"You went after her, didn't you?" Dean accuses.  "The crossroads demon.  After I told you not to."

"Sam, what the hell were you thinking?"

He looks back at you, shocked.  Normally, you don't interject in their arguments, but you are partially involved in this one, though Sam still does not know about your being a part of the deal.

"Look, I don't want Dean to die any more than you do," you explain, your voice a bit more stable, but still as passionate, "but, Sam, if you want to get him out of this, you need a plan – a good one.  And threatening the demon with the Colt isn't a plan – it's a suicide attempt."

He opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out.

"And you shot her," Dean says.

"She was a smartass," Sam justifies.

Dean shakes his head, glaring at the road.  "So, what?  Does that mean I'm out of my deal?"

"Don't you think I might have mentioned that little fact, Dean?  Someone else holds the contract.  She wouldn't say who."

"Well, we should find out who," Dean says.  "Of course, our best lead would be the crossroads demon.  Oh, wait a minute..."

"That's not funny," Sam mumbles.

"No, it's not!" Dean exclaims.  "It was a stupid freaking risk and you shouldn't have done it."

"'I shouldn't have done it'?  You're my brother, Dean, and no matter what you do, I'm going to try and save you.  And I'm sure as hell not going to apologize for it, all right?"

The boys don't speak to each other again until you are all leaving the pier-side house of a woman, Sheila Case, who was found dead.  They questioned the aunt, who found her body, while you inspected the shower, by which she supposedly drowned.

"What did you get from the aunt?" you ask as soon as you have all stepped out of the house and are walking along the pier back to the car.

"She said Sheila mentioned that she saw a boat while she was on a run," Sam explains.  "One second it was there, and the next..."

"She also said she was working with someone named Alex," Dean pauses for effect, "who thinks it could be a ghost ship."

"Huh," you mutter.  "Think there might be another hunter in town?"

"Maybe," Sam says.  "Maybe not.  Doesn't change our job.  And it wouldn't be the first ghost ship to be sighted around here.  Every thirty-seven years, like clockwork, there are reports of a vanishing three-mast clipper ship out in the bay.  And every thirty-seven years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings."

"So, whatever's happening is just getting started," Dean clarifies.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first apparition of an old wreck in the world," you comment.  "The S.S. Violet, the Griffin, the Flying Dutchman – most of them were death omens."