Supernatural One-Shots (Actors and Characters)

Be Careful ~ Sam Winchester

     After interviewing Evan McKay and his mother, Sam, Dean and I were at a bar called "Kugel’s Keg". Dean was throwing darts, Sam doing research on his laptop and I was looking through John's journal.
     "So, local police have not ruled out foul play. Apparently, there were signs of a struggle," Sam told us, scrolling down the web page.
     "Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn’t our kind of gig," Dean pointed out, taking a swig of his beer.
     "Yeah, maybe not. Except for this; your dad marked the area, guys," I said to them. Both of them looked at where I was pointing in the journal. "Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker," I read.
     "Why would he even do that?" Dean asked, going back to his game of darts.
     "Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes," I explained, "He found this, too; this county has more missing person reports than anywhere else in the state."
     "That is weird," Dean said, to which Sam and I nodded. "Don’t phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot."
     "Well, there are all kinds. You know, Springhill Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime. Look, Dean, I don’t know if this is our kind of gig either," Sam told his brother.
     "Yeah, you’re right, we should ask around more tomorrow," Dean responded, throwing another dart.
     "Right," Sam took out his wallet to pay for out drinks, "I saw a motel about five miles back."
     "Whoa, whoa, easy. Let’s have another round," Dean stopped him, smiling at a waitress across the room.
     "We should get an early start," I tried to convince him. It worked.
     "Yeah, you two really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma?" he said the last part to Sam, who smiled at him. "Alright, I’ll meet you guys outside, I gotta take a leak."
     "Charming," I mumbled under my breath, making Sam laugh, "I have to go too, so I'll meet you out there. Be careful."
     "Aren't I always?"

     That was a while ago. Now Dean and I were both handcuffed to the door handle of a police cruiser and Sammy had been kidnapped by God knows what. So much for being careful.
     "I really have to start carrying around paperclips," Dean mumbled.
     "Dean," I whispered, then put my index finger to my lips, signaling for him to be quiet. There was the same screeching growl that the kidnapper's van had made. They were coming. At once, Dean reached for the small antenna on the roof of the vehicle. Unscrewing it, he unlocked both of our cuffs just in time.

     I opened the door of a shabby old house, revealing a small room with two cages. In one was the deputy, Kathleen, and in the other was Sam. I immediately went over to his cell.
     "Sammy, are you okay? Are you hurt?" I latched my fingers in the holes of the cage, leaning down to look him in the eye. He put his hands close to mine and stared back at me. 
     "No, I'm okay, Laken," he told me, smiling.
     "Damn, it’s good to see you," Dean said, also looking in on Sam. 
     "How did you get out of the cuffs?" Kathleen questioned us. Dean and I both turned to look at her, then each other, then back at her. 
     "Oh, I know a trick or two," Dean replied. He moved to the door of the cage and saw the locks that prevented us from getting in and them getting out. "Oh, these locks look like they’re gonna be a bitch."
     "Well, there’s some kind of automatic control right there," he pointed to the control panel near each of the locks. 
     "Have you seen them?" I inquired, standing but staying close to Sam's cage. 
     "Yeah, they’re just people."
     "And they jumped you?" Dean asked disbelievingly.
     "Must be getting a little rusty there, Sammy," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. Dean walked over to the control panel and started trying different buttons. "What do they want?"
     "I don’t know. They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn’t make any sense to me," Sam explained.
     "Well, that’s the point. You know, with our usual, um," he looked at Kathleen, then back at Sam, "playmates, there’s rules, there’s patterns. But with people, they’re just crazy."
     "See anything else out there?" Sam questioned. 
     "Uh, he has about a dozen junked cars hidden out back," Dean answered, "Plates from all over, so I’m thinking when they take someone, they take their car, too."
     "Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?" Kathleen spoke up again. 
     "Yeah, actually, I did," Dean said, not knowing what it meant to her. She looked so sad.
     "Your brother’s?" I asked gently, to which she nodded, "I’m sorry." I genuinely was. My brother had gotten killed during a hunt a few years ago; I knew how it felt to lose family.
     "Let’s get you guys out of here, then we’ll take care of those bastards," Dean pointed to the control panel, "This thing takes a key. Key?"
     "I don’t know." Sam replied, shaking his head.
     "Alright, I better go find it." He goes to leave, but I grabbed his arm.
     "We; we better go find it," I corrected.
     "Hey," Dean and I stopped and turned around at the sound of Sam's voice, "Be careful."
     
     About an hour, a few injuries and four crazy murderers later, all of us were standing outside the house in which we had been held prisoners. The father was dead, the two sons were locked in the cages and the little girl was locked in the closet. Dean was speaking to Kathleen, so it was just Sam and I.
     "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked him, wiping blood off of his cheek.
     "Yeah, I'm sure. I don't know about you though," he responded, nodding towards my arm. I had been shot by one of the sons while Dean and I were tied up. I needed to learn to watch my mouth in dangerous situations. Or at least tone it down some.
     "Please, this is nothing; you should have seen the wound I got down in Argentina," I told him, smiling. In reality, it hurt like a bitch, but I was more concerned about Sam. "I was worried about you," I shuffled my feet, looking down at them, "I didn't know if we'd get to you on time, or even if we'd find you at all."
     "I knew you and Dean would come; you're smart. I knew you'd be able to figure it out."
     "Thanks," I said. I meant it; he always had faith in me and I had no idea why.
     "Anytime," Sam replied, lifting his hand to scratch his lip, but immediately wincing because it had been split open when one of the sons had punched him.
     I lowered his hand and kissed his lips, something I had wanted to do for a very long time. It didn't take him long to respond.
     "What was that for?" he inquired once we separated. I smirked, wiping the small amount of Sam's blood off of my lips.
     "I just thought I'd kiss it better."