Mystery Spot

7

While walking down the streets of Broward County, Sam and (Y/n) took turns telling Dean about the so-called dream/nightmare they had the 'day before'. The younger siblings looked behind them as the chained-up golden retriever barked at them, trying to jump at them, but was yanked back.

Dean shook his head when they finished. "Sam, (Y/n), I'm sorry. I don't know what the hell you guys are talking about."

The younger man let out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, look- yesterday was Tuesday, right? But today is Tuesday too!" (Y/n) nodded her head, showing that she agreed and felt the same way.

"Yeah. No. Good. You're totally balanced," Dean replied sarcastically, earning the bitch-face from both his siblings.

"So, you don't believe us?" It was less of a question and more of an accusation, but their brother's response to it mattered a lot.

Dean laughed, shaking his head. A woman bumped into him before he could say anything further, she let out an 'excuse me' then continued forward as if she was in a hurry. "Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know? Even-for-us crazy. Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy." He paused and turned to Sam. "Hey, maybe it was another one of your psychic premonitions."

(Y/n) shook her head. "That's not right, Dean. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not psychic like Sam is."

"And it was way too vivid," Sam added. "Okay, look. We were at the Mystery Spot, and then..." he trailed off, not wanting to finish his sentence. (Y/n) frowned, not wanting to say anything either. "Then I woke up."

"I told you it wouldn't fit!" Sam and (Y/n) turned around in unison at the familiar scene, to see two workers trying to push a desk that was too big into a small doorway.

The other worker threw his hands in the air. "What do you want, a Pulitzer?" Then they continued to try and fit it through the door.

"Wait a minute!" The siblings stopped, (Y/n) and Sam shared a look. "The Mystery Spot!" They said in unison, smiling a bit at the shared thought.

"You think maybe it..." Sam trailed off.

"Maybe what?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sam licked his lips and nodded. "We got to check that place out." To which Dean rolled his eyes, and (Y/n) looked at him in fear. "Look, just go with me on this."

Finally giving in, Dean nodded and held up a hand. "Alright, alright. We'll go tonight after close, get ourselves a nice, long look."

The younger siblings nodded, before realizing what Dean said- Sam shot out his arm, stopping their brother. "Wait, what?" He started to shake his head. "No."

Dean frowned, confused at the sudden fearful reaction. "Why not?"

"We should just go now, Dean." (Y/n) added, nodding to Sam. "The place is going to be crowded, and maybe someone will point something out of the ordinary out." She definitely didn't want to see her brother shot and killed again.

Dean looked back and forth between his siblings, "my God, you guys are freaks." That earned the bitch-face from (Y/n) and Sam, along with a scolding 'Dean!'. "Okay! Whatever, we'll go now."

Sighs of relief left both of the younger siblings at his words. They weren't going to witness it happening again. Sam stopped for a moment, grabbing Dean's wrist and stared at (Y/n). He was waiting for her phone to ring, just as it had done last Tuesday.

"What's wrong, Sam?" Dean asked, eyeing (Y/n) who looked confused for a moment. And when she realized what was supposed to happen now, waving a hand in the air when her phone didn't go off.

Sam muttered a 'nothing' and continued forward with (Y/n) by his side. "No call from Gabe?" The younger Winchester shook her head, beginning to chew on her bottom lip. Something was wrong.

Loud screeching from tires snapped them back to reality. Dean was flying through the air, having been hit by a rusted green car, then hit the road hard with several pained grunts.

"DEAN!" The twins shouted in unison, running to the middle of the street where their brother had landed. Sam picked him up, muttering a series of 'nos' while (Y/n) grabbed her eldest brother's face.

"Come on, Dean!" Sam spoke desperately, shaking the limp body in his hands a bit, hoping that would open Dean's green eyes.

(Y/n) turned to look at the driver, who was Mr. Picket from the diner. His face morphed into guilt as she stared, tears poking under her eyes. When Mr. Picket turned away, she looked back down at her brother.

"Hey. Dean." She tried again, saying his name over and over again, waiting for his breathing to come back, but it didn't.