Sam Winchester x Reader: Together (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter 10: Mercy

Thank you alicesongs for your comment on the last chapter, and thank you to Sleepless_Killer  for the shout out!

I stand, and run my hands under cool water from the tap, then let a corner of a small cloth that was on a rack become wet. Cutting off the water, I pat the cloth up and down my legs, not letting my mind wander to the previous events.
Pat. Pat. Pat. Pat.
More cleaning. Even more cleaning. Don't imagine what was going to happen.
Don't imagine his hands pressing your body into his.
Don't imagine his lips moving passionately across yours, and a hand slowly pulling your shirt off-
STOP.
I command myself. I look at my clothing and see the remnants of dust are all gone, and a few small patches of water are splattered across my legs like a child's painting. With a series of rushed breaths and shaking hands, I place the cloth onto the rack it came from, and then stare at myself in the mirror, assessing myself.
My hair is a mess, strands sticking out, completely untamed. My eyes are also a little red, most likely from pressing on them when I covered my face; not something I can do much about. I take a few deep breaths, then get some more water on my fingers to flatten the horror that is my hair. Now slightly presentable, I exit the bathroom, cautiously looking around corners for Sam. Soon after starting my treacherous journey through the bunker, I discover something that looks like an extremely old maintenance room. A bucket is placed in the corner, surrounded by sponges of different sizes. I grab them and head back to the bathroom I cleaned myself in to fill the bucket. It doesn't fit into the sink well, so I only fit a small portion of the container under the stream of hot water. 'I need to clean this car now, or Sam will be a little suspicious... If he wasn't already.'
I think to myself, observing the various aspects of the room. It isn't the cleanest place in the bunker, but it surely can't be the messiest. I wonder if Sam has-
"Stop it. You're cleaning the car you like with him. Just cleaning a car."
I whisper. The bucket is nearly filled, and I pull it from the water, then set it down next to me as I turn off the tap. Tossing the sponges into the water, I hoist the bucket up again, and walk towards the garage at a painfully slow pace. When I reach the large library portion of the bunker, the outside door opens and Dean walks in. He stares quizzically.
"What are you doing with a bucket of water?"
"Oh, uh Sam and I are going to clean up a nice old car in the garage that I like."
"You sure that's the only thing you're doing?"
He wiggles his eyebrows and I look into his eyes, steadying my voice.
"Yes."
Dean purses his lips, then gestures for me to keep walking. I exhale, hurrying more than I had before, eager to avoid anymore questions from the older brother. Arriving at the garage, I step carefully down the stairs, water sloshing very timidly around. Sam is leaning against the wall, reading a book that definitely wasn't with us when I discovered the car. I set the bucket down near him.
"Want to start now...?"
He looks up, a sad look in his eyes. He places the book on a shelf and walks over, picking up a blueish sponge while doing so.
"Why not."
He murmurs, a melancholy feel filling the atmosphere.
I take an orange one myself, and begin wiping the grime off of the car. Sam is on the opposite side of the car that I'm on, working at a very dark spot. The room is completely silent aside from the small scratching noises coming from us scrubbing. I concentrate on my door that I move my sponge across fluidly, spreading dirt then rinsing it off with a small amount of water from inside the sponge. My eyes look over to Sam, and I snap the quiet in half.
"What were you going t-"
"It's not important."
"I-I'm just curious..."
"Well it's not important. Don't worry about it."
He works against some more blotches on the car, and we return to silence. Eventually, the car sparkles.
"We did really good, thanks for helping me with that."
Sam grunts, and once more gets close to me. He looks directly at me, a hand resting ever so gently on my shoulder, the same one that I've noticed he always touches. His copper brown eyes look over my face for an eternity, and eventually...

He steps away.
He walks slowly towards the door, hand drifting off of me. His touch lingers even when I see him softly close the door behind him. My head droops, and I slump against the newly shimmering car. I screwed up. I know I did. I don't even notice myself walking out to my car to retrieve a bottle of whiskey from the backseat. I take a few long swigs, laying in my feelings in the passenger seat. My head throbs gently, but sill I ignore it and drink again. Life is so complicated now, and to think just over a month ago I never knew these people existed.
Another drink.
It was so much easier with my brothers  all those years back, but even then there was pain. And although it was more elongated, I would take it over this. Any day. I decide to stop my self pity party, and in frustration with this all, I toss the bottle out the window into a deep, grassy ditch. I didn't drink enough to lose feeling in anything, my alcohol tolerance has seemed to grow in the past little while. Stepping out, I slam the car door harshly, not thinking about the noise. A few birds flap away from a nearby bush. I end up heading into the bunker from the exit I left from to find nobody in the garage, just unnoticed vehicles and the car Sam and I had scrubbed clean of any sort of dirt.
I get to the large, library-looking room and find Sam and Dean sitting together at a table with laptops, scrolling through something. They are speaking in whispers to each other, lips barely moving to form a sound. When I am no more than three feet away, Dean looks up to me quickly, and he doesn't acknowledge the conversation him and his brother were having.
"Hey. Sammy and I are looking for a case, we think we've found one."
"Really, where is it?"
I say, pulling up a chair next to him. Sam briefly glances at me, but then goes back to his computer.
"It's in Jerome, Arizona. There's a, 'serial killer' that's been caught that is saying he never killed anyone, and that he was out of town for a business trip. His alibi checks out, but there is also footage of the man committing a murder dated the night after he left. We're pretty sure it's a shapeshifter. Do you want to head out with us to deal with it?"
I tilt my head to the side and consider everything that he said before nodding.
"Yeah, why not. When should we leave?"
I stand and nudge my chair back into place, fixing my shirt while doing so.
"Early tomorrow would be easiest, get some rest in the mean time."
My bags are in my backseat still, and I notice this as Dean speaks. I nod, then run quickly out to retrieve my things before claiming a bedroom for the night. As I arrive back in the spacious library, I see that Sam is nowhere to be seen, and his brother still sits in the same place he was in minutes ago. But when I step near him, he gets up, and looks at me, anger seemingly bubbling within him.
"I'm only being nice to you for Sammy. The second you hurt him, you're out..."
He growls lowly. He backs away, pointing to the door.
"I mean it."
Dean stomps his way to his room, disappearing inside of it. With a sigh I walk after him and claim a bedroom down the hall a bit. It's plain, and I can tell that the boys haven't ventured into all of the rooms extensively. I place my bags in the corner and plop onto the bed that is free of any blankets or quilts. I curl into a ball, pulling my legs up to my chest. A song I barely know loops through my mind, keeping me awake. I stare at the wall, roaming through my own thoughts until I trip into a dreamless slumber.

I wake up warmer than I was when I first went to sleep, or should I say, cozier. A blanket is lain across me, it's a deep green and feels like silk. I rub a portion of it between my fingers. It reminds me of home. When I fold it across the foot of the bed, it almost looks like it belongs there. I smile, and grab a tank top and a pair of shorts for after my shower. I find the bathroom again easily, and wash up, then I put my outfit on. I drop yesterday's clothes on top of my things when I return to my room. Eventually, I get to the kitchen to find the brothers sitting together, eating the food that Dean had gotten the day before.
"Ready to go?"
Sam says, not a hint of sadness in his voice. Him and his brother get up, tossing their wrappers from the fast food into the garbage can in the corner.
"Yup, let's go."
I show them my sheathed machete, dagger, and pistol around my waist. Their eyes widen.
"You aren't gonna do your passive thing?"
I shake my head and pull out my silver ring, and slip it on my finger.
Silver machete.
Silver bullets.
Silver dagger.
Silver ring.
And someone full of pent up anger and regrets.
This is a shapeshifter's biggest nightmare.
I walk outside, the boys in tow. The three of us go to the impala that sits adjacent to my car. I turn to them, wind slapping my hair across my face.
"I think you should know-"
I pause.
"That I don't give mercy to mass murderers."