A Supernatural x Reader Story

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Man's Best Friend with Benefits, Part Two

First song insert near the end! Let me know what you think.

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"You know what you're going to do about this, uh, witch thing?" Dean asks.

You sit across the table from the boys, inspecting the pages from Bobby's book laid out in front of you, and allow yourself to peek up at his grave eyes.

"Well, there's an entry in Bobby's journal about this spell," you tell him, not matching the sternness in his voice as you slide the page across the tabletop, "'Creating False Memories into Another Witch's Mind,' so it is possible, at least."

"Awesome," he says, barely glancing at the paper. "But that's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant," you reply, teeth clenched. "But what am I supposed to do? Call up Crowley, tell him to get the Hell out of me?"

Sam, whose gaze has fallen on you as well, scoffs. "That's not funny."

"You see me laughing?" you retort. "God, the both of you... Whatever happens or doesn't happen, it can wait until we wrap this up, all right?"

You eye them both, and they each look as if they have more to say, but concede to dropping it for now.

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"Portia tells me my friends in the community want me burned at the stake," James says as you and the boys walk into his room.

"I'm not gonna lie," Dean says. "It's getting ugly."

"And the cops may have more on the case than they're saying," Sam informs him, "including a thick dossier on you."

"Me?" James questions, disbelieving.

"Yeah, I get the feeling whatever they have is under lock and key at the precinct," Sam adds. "Room C-110."

"Then we need to break in," James states.

"Sure," Dean scoffs. "Yeah, a locked room in a joint crawling with cops twenty-four-seven. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Dean," James says, "a witch can go to a place without having to go to a place."

Dean gives him a blank look. "What, like phone sex?"

"Astral projection. I can project my awareness anywhere, from the comfort of right here," James clarifies, then holds up his hands, the iron chains clanging as they are pulled up with his wrists. "But these have got to go."

"Not gonna happen," Dean answers.

"Irons on, no magic," James explains. "No magic, no break-in."

You and the boys glance at each other, Dean's eyes full of doubt, but Sam raises his brows in consideration.

"Okay," he says, "but only if we can go with you."

James looks skeptical about taking extra people on the journey, but Sam and Dean show no signs of negotiating further.

Soon, the shackles have been dropped back into Dean's zipped bag, and Sam and Dean sit on either side of James, shoulder to shoulder, at the foot of the bed.

"James, are you sure you're still even able to do this?" Portia asks.

Dean look over to James, then back to her. "Oh, well, that's a confidence builder," he remarks. "Anything else I should know before I become some disembodied thing, completely at his mercy?"

"My gas tank's been running low since all this started," James admits, "but there is another energy source I could pull from."

You don't realize that he is looking at you until every other eye in the room has turned in your direction.