Burn Out
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.
“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”
The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.
“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”
You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!
“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”
“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”
…
“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.
“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.
“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”
You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.
…
You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.
As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.
Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.
There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.
“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.
It was going to be a long day.
…
You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.
“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.
You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.
Dean: Where r u?
So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.
“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”
“But I was just—“
“Your phone, please.”
You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.
“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”
…
You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—
“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”
—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—
“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.
“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.
“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”
“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.
“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“
“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”
You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.
And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.
…
You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.
When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.
You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.
“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…
You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.
“Sam! She’s here!”
Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.
“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Dean, I—“
Dean wasn’t listening.
“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.
“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”
You ran past Dean, heading for the library.
“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.
He had enough of a mess to fix already.
…
No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.
After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—
“Y/N!”
You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.
“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.
“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“
You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.
“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”
You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.
“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“
“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”
“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.
“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“
“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”
“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”
You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.
“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”
“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”
“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”
You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.
“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.
“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”
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