Supernatural Oneshots

Prank Week (3/5) (Sam Winchester/Hunter!Reader)

Sam Winchester/Hunter!Reader Fanfiction

"(Y/n)!?"

It was the first comforting thing you have heard in months. You grip the black phone tighter, tears threatening to spill past you eyelashes. You wrap the thick black cord around you arm which was connected to the phone.

"Yes, Sammy, it's me! You have to help me Sam, I have no absolute idea where I am! I just woke up on the side of the road, in a run-down gas station. Thank God that the telephone still worked." You said, gripping the cord tighter.

"You aren't (y/n). Don't play with me like that. (Y/n) is dead, and has been for a long time now." Sam's icy voice replied.

You gasped. How long had it been since you had last spoken? How much time had passed that made Sam think you were dead? You were alive, heck, you were better than alive.

"How long." You replied.

"Excuse me?"

"How long." You closed your eyes tightly, "Since I- (Y/n) died?"

You heard a sniffle from the other end. Had he been crying?

"Seven months." Following that was a sob, and with that the line went dead.

Seven months.

Where had you been? You just remembered the yellow-eyed demon, then darkness. What had happened?

You darted inside the gas-station, scavenging for things you may need. You grabbed a drawstring bag before filling it up with a few bottles of water and food. You pried open the cash register, pulling out the few bills that rested in it. You headed outside, looking up and down the dirt road. You decided to walk west and began your journey to civilization.

Monday

You were on the road for a few days, before finally catching the sleek Impala in your sights. You just happened to stumble upon it, the bus had just dropped you off, and you needed a place to sleep. Seeing a scattered pizza box, which looked fairly new, you smirked, a devilish plan forming in your mind. You gripped the pizza box, before walking to the front office, a brunette lady resting at the counter.

She looked up, right as you began to talk, "Yeah, I got a call in for a pizza for a--"

Crap, you didn't know their names, time to wing it.

"Mr. Davidson." You winced, hoping you said the right name. (Edit: I changed the name here, it was Winchester)

She grabbed a booklet, flipping through the pages.

"Yeah, they're in room 208." She lazily replied, setting the booklet down.

"205......206......207.............208. Finally!" You gasp, throwing the pizza box down.

You raised your fist, rasping quietly on the door, trying not to wake the neighbors. You hear rustling from inside, before a chain was unhooked. The door swings open and you are met with the wrong-end of a gun.

"Surprise!" You gulp, a ragged looking Dean aiming at you.

"(Y/N)!" He asked, lowering the gun a bit.

"The one and only!" You reply, jumping to throw your arms around him.

He stepped back a bit, before tucking his gun away and enveloping you in a hug. You squeezed him, but he squeezed back harder, to the point where it hurt.

"Dean...can't...breathe....need....oxygen.." You gasp.

He loosened his grip, stepping away from you. You smirk, only to get water splashed onto your face. Rolling your eyes, you scoff, wiping the holy water from your skin.

"Sorry, (Y/n), gotta do this." He frowned holding a silver knife.

You put your arm out, wincing as the blade cuts through skin. Quickly he pulls away, wrapping the cut in a piece of cloth.

"How are you still alive? No, wait, how are you alive? We buried you body, Sam... Oh shit! Sam! He doesn't know!" He said, eyes turning to worry.

Your eyes fell, so Sam didn't tell Dean about their conversation a few nights ago.

"Dean, I called Sam, when I first woke up. I came to in a abandoned gas station, and he was the first person I called. He didn't believe it was me, but I thought he would've told you." You sigh, a tear trailing down you cheek.

"Well, lets go surprise him!" Dean says.

Wednesday

You and Dean awkwardly rode in the Impala the whole way there and after two days of being with him, you realized how much he had changed.

No classic rock flowed from the speakers anymore, Dean would rather die than taste another piece of pie again, and his Impala, where could you even start!

It was beginning to rust and it smelled like dirty gym clothes. The inside was littered with trash, and the poor girl looked like she needed some mechanic work. It felt like a whole new Dean, and that scared you.

If he had changed, then how would Sammy be? Getting Dean to change was like trying to take Helium and turn it into Iron. Sam, though you hated to admit it, was quick to adapt, like water molding to a new container.

You didn't know what was worse, the deafening silence inside the car, or the murderous fears running ramped in your mind. When you finally pulled up to the Bunker, you panicked, throwing open the door and dashing outside. You fall to the ground, curling into a ball, the feeling of thousands of cars pressing onto your lungs. You gasped for air, squeezing yourself tighter, as if you could become nothing, avoiding the obstacle ahead. Dean was at your side in an instant, prying you apart, and enveloping you in a comforting hug.

When you finally calmed down, you straightened yourself, calmly striding to the door, and knocking on the heavy wood.

The door slowly opened, revealing a very skinny man, with a mane of caramel hair around his head. His face was one of shock, then extreme anger. You had no time to react as a silver blade glinted in the sunlight, before being jabbed at you.

The sinking feeling set in you gut as Dean screamed out, but it was too late.