Grace

One Wrong Step

Sitting next to Sam, you looked between both brothers, seeing the tiniest hint of sadness and jealousy cross Dean's face before he turned back into the kitchen. "That doesn't look like research to me." He yelled behind him.

Clearing his throat, Sam stood up, moving over to Bobby's desk, moving books around. "We were just clearing up some issues." He explained as Dean came in with a beer in his hands. He once again had a half grin covering his face, and you were beginning to see that was his way of hiding his true emotions.

"Sure you were." He teased.

"At least some people deal with their issues." You threw back, watching as his eyes snapped over to you, a genuine look of surprise on his face. You seemed to have hit a nerve, and you immediately felt bad. "Sorry, I'm tired. It's been a long day, or couple of days actually. Sam and I, we were just discussing your conversation from earlier."

"Ahh. The one were he was the dick for once." Dean said, nodding his head and pouting his lips out adorably.

"Dean." Sam growled at his brother. It was interesting, watching the interaction between the two brothers. They seemed closer, a lot closer, than most brothers you had known, and you could recognize instantly that they would do anything for each other. Even if they were currently pissed at each other, like they seemed to be at the moment.

"So, what's next?" You asked them, as Dean pulled a chair over, sitting backwards on it.

"Now we do research, like Sam was supposed to do." Dean said. "Cas is up in heaven trying to figure things out. Maybe a book or something down here will give us a clue to go on."

Sam slammed a book down, before grabbing his laptop. "I'll search the web, see if anything pops up that seems fitting. But Y/N, I might need more of your information, like birth date, family history, to help the search."

"Sure, anything. But what should I do?" You asked, feeling a little useless. Dean had grabbed a book already from a pile, and was flipping through it, and Sam was already typing away at his computer. Bobby was still cussing away on the phone lines, leaving you as the only one not doing anything.

Sam looked up from his computer. "Why don't you write down some pertinent information, that way I have it right here. Then, I'm not sure."

Taking a notepad, you wrote down your birthday, your parents name, your grandparents names, even the towns you had lived in. After giving it to Sam, you wandered into the kitchen, your stomach growling a little bit. Opening the fridge, you frowned at the lack of items in front of you. Shutting it, you turned to the cabinets, your frown deepening as each one proved to be empty or had items that expired five years ago. "What does he even eat?" You muttered to yourself as you turned to the fridge once again. Giving up, you noticed the phone hanging on the side of the kitchen, along with the numbers to various take out restaurants. Minutes later, you had ordered a couple of pizzas, hoping your stomach would be patient long enough for them to show up.

Feeling a little better that food was on the way, you wandered back into the study, seeing Dean hunched over, still in his chair, studying an old, leather book. Sam was still typing away at the computer, and you went and stood behind him, wondering if he had found anything. "How's it going?" You asked.

"Nothing so far. But you were a pretty decent student in high school. Except for that C in Chemistry." He teased.

"Seriously? You found my high school transcripts?" You asked, feeling a little exposed, curious as to what else he had found while looking.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I hated science too. I liked learning languages better." He said, and you nodded in agreement. Other languages had always come easy to you too.