Sam Winchester x Reader: Together (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter 20: Noodles

Sam, Dean and I sit in the impala, the brothers in front, and me in the back seat. I stare out the window at the blurring landscape outside, the green trees and long grass. Sam turns in his own seat to ask me a question, but before he can get a word out, Dean's phone rings on the dash. He picks it up to answer, but groans at the caller ID.
"Who is it?"
I inquire, leaning forward to look at the screen. A Cheshire Cat smile places itself on my lips.
"He's alive. Give me the phone."
I say, reaching for it. Dean pulls it away to answer, giving me a, 'You've got to be kidding me,' look. But, I reply to that by mouthing, 'Put it on speaker.' He does so, putting the phone back on the dash, before saying a lazy hello.
"Dean. Sam. I see you've been in touch  with Chuck..?"
Metatron says curiously.
"Yeah,"
Dean replies in a gruff voice.
"and someone else too. I guess she wants to talk to you."
"Oh?"
The scribe questions, audibly changing his position in whatever chair he's on. I personally pull my hair away from my mouth, clearing my voice whilst doing so.
"Metatron?"
I ask hesitantly. He gasps over the line.
"Kiddo, is that you? Wow, long time no see. Or speak, I guess."
"Yeah... I thought you died."
"Same here, really. You just ran off."
I purse my lips, flicking my eyes up to Sam, and a sense of knowing passes between us. Again, I open my mouth to reply, but Metatron begins to murmur something.
"Wait, wait a second. You're not-- Oh you are. Damn, why does EVERYONE end up with the Winchesters?"
The three of us in the car exchange glances, not sure how to reply. But, Sam steps up to the plate.
"Why did you call us?"
Metatron murmurs something along the lines of, 'He's there too;' before answering his question.
"Look, I've got some information that... May be of use to you."
"Alright then, tell us."
Dean demands, keeping his eyes on the road, but sliding his hands down the wheel so they sit on the bottom.
"No, no. It's gotta be in person. Listen, you can meet me..."
He spews an address to what I presume is a bar, and I mentally take note on the location. The scribe shuffles some more.
"Come see me when you can."
"We will, bye Metatron."
I say, taking hold of the phone.
"Bye kid."
I tap the, 'end call' button, dropping the device on Dean's lap. He groans.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"What?"
I reply.
"You're friends with Metatron? He's a douchebag."
Leaning back in my place, I roll my eyes.
"He's not all that bad. He'd come say hi to us every once in a while with my Dad."
"Alright..."
Dean mumbles hesitantly. We continue our drive.

Not too long after my chat with Metatron, we arrive at a police station, ready to talk to the last man remaining from the fog. The boys are dressed in articulate suits, and I myself am wearing a medium grey pencil skirt, along with a matching coat and a F/C blouse. The short stop at the nearby gas station to change was necessary, even if it smelled like rotting food. We greet the man as he stands, shaking our hands kindly.
"Hi there, I'm Donatello."
"Very nice to meet you, sir."
I reply with a light smile. He only keeps the slightly shaken look that was on his face when we entered.
"Now, can you tell us what happened?"
Sam says, sitting next to me, followed by Dean. Donatello breathes heavily.
"Okay. There... There was this fog, and that in itself was odd, we almost never get fog, especially on that scale. It was really thick. But when it hit the people, th-they started falling. They were clutching their throats like they were choking... And the bodies... Their bodies had these sickening black streaks running up and down them... And that's when it happened."
The brothers and I look curiously between each other before motioning for him to continue.
"There was... Lighting. And it all happened so fast, I got hit with all this knowledge a-and clarity. Symbols and voices, and... Destruction, and death..."
He pauses again, frantically looking at the three of us opposite to him.
"E-everyone thinks I'm crazy! That I'm a terrorist or something; I'm not! I'm a chemist, I work at the university, I have a cat! Well... Had."
I squint a bit.
"Just give my partners and I second, please."
We get up, walking to the corner of the room. Dean talks first.
"That sounds really familiar."
"Like when somebody becomes a prophet."
I add, knowing their direction. They nod.
"Yeah, but Crowley rounded up all the prophets and tried to kill them. Of course we ended up saving them..."
Sam says.
"But he wasn't one of them, was he?"
I ask, and Sam shakes his head, hair brushing his face.
"No. He could have missed some though."
Dean gestures to Donatello.
"It was Amara's fog. Could Amara be making prophets?"
"Same God power."
I reply absently. Sam's coppery eyes meet my gaze, and we step over to Donatello, sitting once more. Dean remains where he is as Sam pulls out a little book. A sentence in enochian is written across the page.
"Am I under arrest..?"
Donatello asks quietly. I shake my head, but Sam answers with words.
"No... Hey, could you try and... Read this?"
He nudges the item towards the man, and I stare the book for a moment with the prophet rambling in front of me, and it clicks.
Behold the face of God
"Behold the face of God."
Donatello says, surprised. I raise my eyebrows.
"I-I... It just popped into my head. Who speaks this language?"
He asks. Sam takes a quick look at me before replying.
"Angels."