You Will Be Found

0.6

"ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ. ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀʏ"

...

"(Y/N)?"

"(Y/N) where are you?"

"(Y/N)!"

"Who are you two?" Dean and Sam spun around, both raising their guns in a warning.

"Woah Woah! Okay, put the guns down no shooting!" They both lowered their guns, glaring at the lanky teen, seeing a few others trailing behind him.

"Who the hell are you?" Dean barked, and Sam saw the dude flinch at his tone.

"I'm Stiles. Dude chill on the dead voice we get it you're terrifying. Jeez, you and Derek should get together and be cops."

"Stiles," The older one glared at him, causing Sam to be confused. He definitely wasn't a high school friend. So that meant he was the -

"You're the little punk who's befriended (Y/N) huh?" Dean sent a sarcastic smirk at him, "How's that going for you?"

"Yeah about that-"

"What is she?"

"Be careful how you word your questions that's our sister." Sam put a hand on Dean's chest to stop him from lunging at the one with the crooked jaw, who stepped back some from the heat of Dean's glare but didn't stop asking questions.

"I saw her eyes flash purple at school. And tonight - her hands they," He looked at his own, not knowing how to put it into words, "She's not human."

"Neither are you." Dean was tense and Sam was worried he'd go off and shoot them all.

"Who are you?" The older one, Derek, spoke up, and Sam was almost grateful for the change of topics, that might calm Dean down more.

"We're the Winchesters." Dean barked, and nope he was not calming down any.

"The Winchesters?" The smaller girl, standing next to the nosy teen questioned, and Sam heard a waver in her voice, indicating she knew who they were. Derek took a fraction of a step back, a surprised look on his face.

"Who are the Winchesters?"

"The most known about hunters in the world." She whispered, "They're able to kill any supernatural creature, they've died and come back more than anyone's been able to count and stopped the biblical apocalypse. My dad's both scared and idolizes them."

"While we appreciate the fans," Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, "We're looking for our sister. The one you scared off to run into the middle of freaking nowhere."

"We scared her?" They looked at one from the back, stepping from beside a redhead, glaring at the two, "Her hands caught on fire, like actually on fire. We scared her?"

"Her hands caught on fire?" Dean sounded worried, stepping back from being restrained from Sam's hand, making eye contact with his younger brother. "She hasn't done that one before has she?"

"No, that's further than she's been able to do." Dean rubbed his face, ignoring the bewildered looks on the faces of the others.

"Um, hello?" Sam clenched his jaw, man this guy was really annoying, "Are you going to answer any of our questions? Like what the hell is she? How do we stop her? What are you all doing here? When will you leave?"

"Those are good questions, uh, what's your name?"

"Jackson."

"Jackson yeah...ever talk about (Y/N) like that again and I will unload every single silver wolfsbane bullets we own into your head. Understand me?" He had the decency to step back, trying to cover the shocked look on his face, "How did you know where she was? She didn't even know."

"We followed her scent."

"Her scent?" God really Dean? You're just now figuring this out? Sam rolled his eyes, "They're werewolves, Dean."

"Werewol - Wow...this is great. Djinns, vamps, wraiths and now weres. This is one screwed up town Sammy." He turned around, "Whatever, you followed her scent. So, where the hell is she?"

"We don't know?"

"You don't know? What? Wolf nose on the fritz?"

"No, it just...stops. Disappears. Like she just vanished."

"People don't just vanish," Stiles bitched at Jackson.

"She was pretty upset," Sam whispered to Dean, "She may have done something like that without meaning to."

"I don't think so. It only happens when she's mad. You heard her, she was scared and upset. I don't think she would have done anything that extreme." He rolled his eyes, turning back to the bickering teens, "Alright, shut up!"

"Dean!"

"What Sam?" Without saying anything Sam held up his phone, showing Dean the text, he just received.

'Demons. Only demons.'

"It says she texted that...minutes before we got here."

"Yeah," Sam breathed out, "So that means-"

"These murders were planned to throw us off and this son of a bitch has (Y/N)." He put his gun back in the back of his pants, "Stiles, older guy-"

"Derek."

"Derek, you two are riding with us. We know what's going on and unfortunately, we may need your help. The rest of you all, follow us."

"Hold on, what makes you think we're going to help you after knowing you might just kill us?" Stiles asked, hands up, stopping his friends from walking.

Dean took a few steps forward, face dead. "Because this is dealing with our sister. Your friend." He studied Stiles for a minute, "After hearing her talk maybe more. So you're going to help us, maybe not for us but her." He looked at the rest of the teens, "As for you, you don't help you die. You help, we leave. Simple as that."

- A/N - 

MY COMPUTER IS ACTING UP YOU GUYS, AND I HONESTLY JUST WANT TO SMASH IT IN THE WALL