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samsno1 · 2 days

Note

Hi, idk how often you do requests but could you do a mid season Sam fic. The reader is with the FBI with the unexplained cases and she meets the brothers. It would be funny if they tried to convince her that they are also with the FBI and she somehow catches them in their lie. They work together in the case and Sam and the reader end up falling for eachother. Thanks you so so much!!!!

Caught

Sam Winchester X F!Reader

this took me so long to write i'm so sorry. i don't reeeeally like the ending but i did the best i could. i hope this is what you expected bby <3

Summary: You were assigned a complex case and you end up meeting two very weird men who were, apparently, also FBI agents but...why are they named after famous rockstars?

Warnings: FLUFF, descriptions of murderer, murder scenes and violence (usual supernatural shenanigans), sam is an 'intimidating woman enjoyer™', use of Y/N, the writer (me) has no idea how fbi works because she isn't an USA resident, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

W.C.: 8,8k

enjoy!

You had climbed the ladder in the world of criminology considerably fast considering your age. Getting into the FBI in your late 20s was probably one of your biggest achievements and, of course, men tended to make disgusting comments about how such a young woman got such a difficult job – including claiming you opened your legs to get this far. You didn’t mind, actually, it added to your ego to be above those guys – as if they even deserved to be in a job that required empathy towards the victims.

Still, even your superior was shocked at the case he found. A couple had been killed inside their room without any signs of forced entry. All doors and windows were locked and nothing inside the house had been stolen; the bodies seemed to be torn apart from the inside out since there were no knife or bullet wounds and he put you on the case. He thought you would have the abilities to deal with something like this – ‘you’re a prodigy’ he had said – and the guts. The crime scene was absolutely vile; there was blood everywhere and their faces had the skin peeled off to the point their cranial bones were visible. You had seen some stuff, but nothing like this.

The first thing that you did when you got to town was talking with the local police so that you’d learn more about the town’s history with murderers – especially the unexplainable ones. They told you something close to an urban legend: the house that the couple was renting was cursed according to the locals. Decades ago, three kids got killed by their parents in rage, who committed suicide afterwards. They never found the kids bodies and the case went cold after a few years, the police giving up on finding their remains. You found that absolutely unacceptable, giving up on children like that should be a crime, but it wasn’t up to you. Ever since the assassination, every person that rented or bought the house died in unexplainable ways and the police had started to practically ignore or do the bare minimum on the case.

“We’ve been having problems with that house for years” Said the sheriff, a man with a grown out beard, deep eyebags and average height. Not what you would expect for a sheriff given his dismissiveness towards you and the mess his office was. “The previous sheriff also received complaints from townsfolk regarding the place but we could never find out anything. There were no clues, no suspects, just…nothing” He finished, his arms waving around tiredly.

“This is probably why they put the FBI on the case” You said to yourself, guaranteeing the man wouldn’t hear you. You took notes on your notebook, your legs crossed as you sat in front of the sheriff, his table between both of you. You could sense his eyes on you and feel his unasked question floating around in the air. “Anything else, Sheriff?” You asked, looking up from your notes.

He seemed to wake up from his thoughts, shaking his head lightly at you. “No it’s just…Why do you need three FBI agents to work on this?” He asked, on edge, a worry line prominent in his aged face as he squinted at you. Three? You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned back on the chair, closing your notebook.

“I’m not aware of the other two working alongside me” You say. You thought about what your boss had told you and didn’t remember him saying anything about partners, especially two. You usually worked alone most of the time, functioning better on your own. Then again, this was a difficult case, maybe they thought it was better than one federal agent working on this.

“They came by earlier today, asking about the same house and the murderers. They were tall, one of them was…very tall and had long hair. The other one was less serious and, honestly, unprofessional. I think they said they were agent Page and Plant” The sheriff filled you in and now this seemed like a joke. You raised an eyebrow. You had a peculiar taste in music considering it was the 2000s and your father barely listened to anything further than the 90s, resulting in you growing up to know most of the rock bands that were at their highest from the 60s to the 90s. That included Led Zeppelin. And it would be too big of a coincidence for both guys to work together with last names such as those.

“I’ll talk to them about the case, thank you very much Sheriff” You say, raising yourself from the chair and extending a hand to politely shake his. You walked out of his office with a question in your mind and thought about looking up Page and Plant on the database to see if anything showed up when you got to your room tonight. For now, you had to take a look at the crime scene while it was still daylight.

–

Your car’s engine died down as you turned the key. You opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting your suit over the white button down you wore underneath. You shoved your car key in your pocket and, when you looked up, you saw another car that easily stood out from the others around the street – a black Chevrolet Impala which you couldn’t guess the specific year just by looking. It was a very beautiful car and you secretly praised in your mind whoever owned it – it seemed well taken care of.

You walked to the crime scene, taking your badge in hand to show it to the police officer that took care of the place when you saw two men, also in suits, talking with one of the officers – two tall men, one had longer hair. The officer approached you as you got closer and you simply showed your badge to him before he nodded and lifted up the ‘crime scene’ tape for you to go underneath. You ducked down and mumbled a thank you as you made a beeline towards the two guys.

You wondered what you were going to say and how you were going to question them about their identity without seeming like you’re assuming anything. As you walked closer, they were finishing their conversation and were turning to leave making you almost bump right into them. They stumbled back and you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Who are you?” The shorter one asked you and you took the badge out of your pocket again with a sigh, making sure he reads your name and sees the picture of you that clearly stated you were a federal. He hummed and looked towards his partner, a silent conversation going on between them. You interrupt.

“And you?” You ask and they get their own badges out. You extend a hand to the taller one, silently asking you if you could take a look at it. He gave it to you willingly, which was one less red flag to take into consideration. You looked through everything and it all seemed alright…until you looked at the name on the bottom. Jimmy Page. Is this serious? You look up at them with a judging look and you see the tallest swallow harshly. “Your parents were big Led Zeppelin fans I assume” You say.

“Yeah, yeah they– ha– they were” Jimmy says in a way that’s not believable at all, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shorter one closes his eyes and shakes his head discreetly in disappointment – which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give Page his badge back and turn to – apparently – Plant.

“I didn’t know that I would have partners in this case, but maybe it’s for the better. What did you find out about the case? Just so we are on the same page” You look between both of them. Plant nudges his partner in the ribs and, before mumbling somewhat of a curse to Plant after practically jumping in place, Page starts to explain to you about their side of the investigation. He seemed professional enough, with a notebook in his hands as he told you everything they could make up from what they knew so far, even sharing with you his assumptions. You were impressed as you started telling him about what you thought – a weird case, too many murders, few clues…Plant stayed quiet most of the time until about halfway through your conversation he said he was going back to his car and you took that as a hint to call it a day.

“Well, I think we are going to work well together, Agent L/N” Page says with a polite smile and you nod, smiling yourself. You took one of your cards where your professional number was written on along with your name and offered it to him. He gently took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Just in case you have anything else to share” You said and he nodded, a strand of his hair falling over his face, which he mindlessly put back with a brush of his hand. “It was great meeting you, Agent Page”

“You too” He said and, sensing the end of the encounter, you started to walk back to your car. You still couldn’t shake the thought of those two being too suspicious for your liking and you were determined to look them up and see if Agents Jimmy Page and Robert Plant actually existed. You walked fast, your heels knocking against the concrete and you didn’t notice Page’s eyes on you, lost in the movement of your hair as you walked away. What woke him up from his trance, though, was his partner honking and signaling for him to hurry up. He rolled his eyes and walked to his own car, stealing one last glance at you. You turned your head back right on cue, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. He awkwardly waved goodbye back and started to walk to the honking Impala.

You had assumed the unknown car belonged to them and you had written down the plate in your notebook discreetly – just in case. You were impressed by their ability – well, Page’s ability – to analyze crime scenes but you weren’t stupid. You couldn’t just erase the fact that you had no idea who those two were and you were determined to find out, one way or another.

–

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Sam got inside the car in the passenger’s side, almost hitting his head on the roof – like he did most days. Dean was impatiently waiting for him to get in until he saw something clasped in his brother’s hand, his eyes quietly scanning the white paper. In Sam’s distraction, Dean reached for it before he could react. “Hey!”

“You got her number? Wow Sam, never thought of you like that” Dean teased as he looked through your name written in cursive writing and your phone number right under it. Sam snatched the small card back from his brother and shoved it in his pocket, glaring at Dean.

“Shut up man, this is her professional number, she gave it to me so we could talk” He defended as he put his seatbelt on. He mindlessly brushed a hand through his hair again, getting it out of his face as he heard Dean chuckle to himself as Baby’s engine roared to life. Sam looked back to his brother and waited for more teasing to come – as it always did.

“Yeah, talk.” He said, the double meaning in his words floating around in the air but being ignored by Sam. Dean pressed his foot on the pedal so the car would start to move as he shifted into gear. “Besides, she’s an actual FBI agent, don’t you think she’s going to suspect that we aren’t?”

“Dean, I did go to law school, I can manage my way out of this” Sam said with a mischievous smile. He really thought he could, he knew he was smart and he was a damn good liar – he lied in college for a very long time about who he was and what his family did. Not something to be proud of but it came in handy, especially when both him and his brother were in trouble. He had practically lied his whole life about who he truly was, not entirely giving away specific details – especially those who involved his family. Sometimes he regretted it – like he did with Jess – but it was always safer not to know, for both parties. Or so he thought.

“Don’t think she’s stupid–”

“I don’t think she’s stupid–”

“Let me finish” Dean scolded, raising a hand to silence his brother, his eyes still on the road. It was often funny to pay attention to their brotherly behavior and how anyone could know who was the oldest just by these simple interactions. Dean raised his hand and Sam silenced, listening, like how it was when they were kids. “Don’t think she’s naive, she is in the FBI, working alone on a case. I don’t know much about federals but I’m sure that’s not for everyone”

Sam stayed quiet. He knew Dean was right but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Still, he really didn’t think you were stupid, it was impossible to. The way you talked about the case in detail, relating your point of view and what you could gather in a few hours was more than enough evidence to show him you deserved this job more than anyone. He wasn’t used to seeing women in this field, but everytime he did he was convinced that men were definitely unfairly placed higher. Yet, he still didn’t want to get arrested again so he needed to convince you that he and Dean were legitimately federals.

The conversation drifted away in another direction as Sam stared out the window and replied to the small talk Dean made with him every now and then – when he didn’t crank up the volume once Metallica came into the radio playing Creeping Death while they were talking. With a chorus of ‘Die, die!’ being sung by Dean while he beat his hands on the steering wheel to the drum rhythm, Sam’s mind drifted away and he fell asleep with a head against the window, the tiredness of sleepless nights catching up to him.

–

These fuckers. You thought to yourself as you stared mouth agape to the pictures of who you learned were actually Sam and Dean Winchester – not Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. Two brothers, presumed dead a couple years ago.

Your coffee sat cold over the wooden table of the hotel you were staying the night at. You had already changed into your pajamas and taken a hot shower when you decided to take a look at the case again. Two hours later you remembered the two men you encountered and, when you looked a bit deeper in the police files, the results were horrifying. It actually wasn’t that hard to find out about them, a quick look through the FBI database and you found their exact faces – even if Pag- Sam’s hair was relatively shorter then now. You were beyond pissed, especially at yourself, how could you not have known this? How could you let yourself get played like this? Just because the tall guy was a bit of a nerd and kind of cute? Ugh!

You started pacing around your room, not knowing what to do. Confronting them could kill you, they were murderers after all, according to the database, they had killed civilians and federal agents equally as much. You were strong, both physically and mentally, but there was no way you were escaping two guys that were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds each. You had to play smart, you had to catch them in a weak moment and then. Bingo. You stopped in your tracks and – like a lightbulb lightened up above your head – you had the perfect plan. You had to wait until the next day for you to execute it but it was going to be worth it. You sent their mugshots to your phone through your e-mail and any other evidence that you could use against them.

You still felt slightly weirded out about them. They didn’t seem dangerous, they didn’t freak out the moment they saw you and they were confidently adding to the investigation with actual useful analysis. You were looking deeper through their files and found out they lost their mother in a fire at a very young age – the youngest wasn’t even one year old yet – and their father had died a couple years ago, in ‘06. They had a pretty sketchy life, living off stolen credit cards and fake identities but something interesting you found out was that Sam Winchester actually went to college, he went to Stanford and your eyes widened at that. You wondered what made him quit, maybe his father dying and his brother needing him, maybe he got kicked out, still, going to college after having a childhood like that was more than impressive.

You kept reading about them until the late hours of the night and you only noticed you fell asleep over the papers you left on the table and your computer when a phone ringing startled you awake. The noise echoed inside your head and, as you lifted your head, the sunlight getting into the room through the curtains hurt your eyes. You only noticed how bad you’d slept when you felt a pain shoot through your neck and down your back as you turned your head to look for the phone – great. You groaned and felt around the table with your hand until you felt the square shape of the device and its humming. You clicked to answer after slightly clearing your throat so you’d seem less sleepy and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Agent L/N speaking”

“Hey Y/N, how are things going?” The voice of your boss made you unconsciously straighten your back and swallow harshly. You looked at the time on your computer and your heart fell to your stomach. 11:36AM – shit!

“Hey Sir, everything is running smoothly. I’m currently collecting evidence and later I’m going to the morgue so I can look through the autopsy”

“That’s great, you always do a great job kid” He said and you could feel him smiling on the other side of the line. You felt bad for kind of lying but you had been worrying about other stuff last night.

“Thank you Sir, I’ll report back to you as soon as possible” You reply.

You talked for a while longer as you disclosed the case and, when he finally hung up, it was already past noon. As you got ready for your day, doing your daily morning routine as quickly as you could, you felt your stomach rumble when you got out of the shower, reminding you that you hadn’t had breakfast. You decided then that it was better to stop at a diner or somewhere so you could eat something to go on with your day – since it was already lunchtime you couldn’t necessarily call this brunch. You finished getting ready, putting on your shoes and grabbing the keys to your car while you looked up the closest place to eat something quick.

You drove to the nearest diner that had a decent rating and stopped at the parking lot. When you looked around, you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. The infamous Impala was parked a couple meters from you in all its glory. You audibly sighed but you couldn’t just find another place to eat as quickly, besides, you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe eating at the same place as them was actually a good strategy. You grabbed your wallet and locked your car, confidently walking towards the diner entrance.

The bells dinged above your head as you got in, some eyes looking your way with the noise – including Sam’s. Him and his brother were sitting in a booth in the far corner of the diner, Sam turned in the direction of the door and Dean facing away from it, in his brother’s direction. Sam had his laptop open in front of him as he ate a salad, Dean was eating a burger. Thay had probably been talking before you came in because when you came through the door Sam went quiet as he looked over his brother’s shoulder and Dean kept talking, hunched over his food. You couldn’t listen to their conversation but you gave Sam a slight smile and a nod, your stomach turning as you faked sympathy, as if you didn’t just friendly greet a murderer. He nodded back and that's when Dean slightly turned to look behind him and see you, nodding as well.

You started to walk towards their table, the weight of your hidden gun on your hip more than evident. Just keep calm, you were trained for this. You decided to keep to yourself that you knew their true identity, after all, you were one step ahead of them and, deep down, you knew they could be useful. Their intelligence was beyond impressive – faking your death wasn’t something easy to do. You stood above them with a gentle smile.

“Hello agents, mind if I sit with you?” You asked as politely as you could. Sam scooted almost instantly, changing the placement of his laptop to the side of the window. You didn’t miss the eyebrow raise his brother gave him.

“Hey Ms. L/N. No, not at all, make yourself comfortable” He said, smiling at you. He has dimples you mentally stated.

“Yeah, please” Dean agreed, stretching a hand to the seat beside Sam. His voice was slightly muffled thanks to the food in his mouth and you internally cringed as you could see the chewed food when he talked.

“Thanks. No need to call me by my last name, you can just call me Y/N” You simply said as you sat down, looking almost immediately to the computer screen open in newspapers that dated a couple years back. Murders in the same house all with the same time frame from each other. “I see you work even while you were supposed to be on your break, careful not to burn out Agent Page” You said, looking at his side profile. He seemed embarrassed as your sweet voice got to his ears and awkwardly laughed.

“You know…you don’t need to call me Agent Page, that is just an alias, call me Smith, Sam Smith. That’s Dean Wesson” He said. Huh, claiming aliases, smart move Winchester. “And yeah, I’ve been taking a look at the history of the place, apparently–”

“It’s timed killing” You finished. You scooted slightly closer, pointing your finger to the screen where the date of the newspaper was written at. “Every two years on the same date someone was brutally murdered in the house.”

“Yeah and inside the same room too” Dean pointed out. That you hadn’t noticed. A waiter coming to get your order interrupted the conversation you three were having to get your order. You quickly looked through the menu deciding to eat the quickest and most nutritious stuff there could be at a diner. You thanked the boy that took your order and he walked in long strides towards the kitchen. You came back to the talk you were having with the two brothers and Dean continued. “The master suite. And always couples, someone seems to hate true love” He joked.

“Apparently. Have any ideas for suspects yet?” You asked. If you were going to play pretend you might as well acquire some useful information with it. The boys shared a look between them that they thought you wouldn’t catch, but you weren’t FBI for no reason.

“None yet, still looking into it” Sam said, suddenly seeming on edge, shifting his placement on the booth. You were good at reading body language, it was one of the main qualities that got you in the FBI, interrogating criminals was easy exactly because they couldn’t lie. When you learned their behavior and played your way into their head it destroyed them because even if they were silent, even if they didn’t say anything, you knew what they were lying about – flinching when you mention a certain name or changing the leg they were crossing under the table when you named an address. So, Sam couldn’t hide from you earlier, imagine now that you were inches away.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and turning your torso slightly more in his direction, leaning your elbow on the table. He was trapped. You thought about confronting them here, questioning them about their identity in public but you thought better – they definitely had guns on them and two beats one. Either way, you’d put him in a challenging situation, confronting him without even disagreeing verbally. He felt intimidated and now seemed unsure of his own conclusion – how you loved playing these games.

“I mean there’s barely any clues” He laughed nervously. “I was going to call you to see if you had any idea”

“I don’t either, as you said, no leads” You said. The waiter arrived with your food right then and you politely thanked him, drifting away from the conversation you were having with Sam as you started to eat. This time you weren’t paying attention and Dean questioned Sam with a look. What is she on? And the youngest shrugged. You swallowed your food with a pleasant hum, just now noticing how hungry you truly were. “I was thinking we could go to the morgue, if you haven’t already. Take a look at the bodies, see if we find anything”

You were purposefully playing right into their game, faking cluesness and at the same time taking advantage of their abilities to solve the case. It was more important to you to solve whatever was going on to bring peace back to this town than to arrest the brothers who were supposed to be dead. You’d learned that men tended to believe that you were stupid very easily, that you had no idea what you were doing and you started using that to have your way with them. With big doe eyes and feigned innocence you could get very far.

“That’s where we were going later actually. It’s good if you tag along” Sam tells you.

“I would even if you didn’t want me to” You said, joking, but not really. Your tone was humorous but your smile was bitter. They didn’t seem to notice though and Sam even chuckled slightly at your sarcasm. You noticed the dimples in his cheeks and how boyish his smile was, full of bright white teeth and sincerity. You almost felt bad for being rude until you remembered they were killers – even if they didn’t look like it. Sam didn’t seem the type to brutally murder someone, Dean seemed too stupid to be able to get away with it for so many years, even faking his own death and walking around normally – you’d bet he was the one with the idea to put the name of famous rockstars as FBI aliases.

By the time the conversation was over, so was your food. You left enough money for the bill and a tip and stood up from the booth. “Okay, well, let’s go, we have a lot to do today boys” You said, adjusting your suit, unnecessarily dusting it off. You eyed Dean’s plate, the mess he made similar to how a child would eat. You would have laughed if you were in a more friendly situation. You looked at Sam and with a smile you said: “Don’t be late pretty boy, I’ll be waiting for you”

Then you turned around, politely nodded goodbye to Dean and started walking away, holding back a laugh. Sam stood still, stunned as he stared at you walked out the door, the bells above you ringing twice – one for when you pulled the door, the other after you let it smoothly close behind you. Dean was staring too, his bright green eyes filled with confusion. Once he turned to look at Sam he saw his younger brother completely zoned out, looking in the direction where you once were. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, who immediately looked at Dean.

“Pretty boy?” Dean questioned, holding back a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean…”

“She’s got you man. I get it, strong and intimidating women, I understand, I understand”

“That’s not it, she seems…off” Sam points out, looking at the door once more to make sure you wouldn’t come back and leaning closer to unnecessarily speak in a lower voice to Dean. “I think she might be an it, the monster we are looking for”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“The way she’s acting is, I don’t know, weird”

“Look Sam I know you’re not used to having women hit on you but that doesn’t mean they are monsters” Dean teased, Sam gritted his teeth.

“Dean, I’m serious!”

“Okay, alright, we are going to investigate then” Dean said, raising his hands in fake surrender to his brother’s scolding. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. Didn’t we consider it to be a vengeful spirit?”

“Maybe, or maybe we are dealing with something completely different”

“Alright smart-ass, but if you’re wrong you owe me a six pack”

Sam scoffed but he wasn’t one to turn down any bet. He had thought your behavior was weird the moment you stepped foot in the diner. The questions you asked, the way you would constantly question his abilities, there was something going on and he could sense it. Besides, he liked betting with Dean, especially winning, so there was no way he wasn’t accepting his brother’s challenge.

“Deal” Sam said, hitting his palms against the table and standing up, ready to leave and go to the morgue. Dean followed his movements and stood up with a cheeky smile, taking out his wallet to pay for the food.

–

At the morgue, you waited about 5 minutes until they arrived. When they walked up to the entrance you were waiting at, Sam and Dean saw you in a much more serious state as you read through your notes and made annotations here and there. The noise of their footsteps made you look up and put your little notebook back in your pocket and place your pen behind your ear. You crossed your arms in front of your body and waited for them to get closer. Your heels were starting to hurt the bottom of your feet from standing too long in the same place and you were overwhelmed with different emotions – towards the men and yourself.

You weren’t necessarily scared of Sam and Dean, you were trained not to be, but it was never in your plans to be alone in a city with federal criminals, it would be downright ignorant not to be at least nervous with the situation. You were keeping yourself friendly without giving away any hint that you might know who they were, debating internally which would be the worst case: if you confronted them or stuck beside them for longer – what’s that say again? Friends close, enemies closer.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam called you and you turned your lips upwards in some-kind of a smile. He mirrored your expression and you caught his dimples again, your eyes wandering around his face. You broke the stare when Dean cleared his throat and, when you looked at him, he had his eyebrows furrowed, giving Sam a side-eye – more like a diagonal one, since, well, Sam was a big guy. In your own trance you hadn’t noticed how Sam was also looking at you like you were a beautiful piece of art – damn it, focus.

You also cleared your throat and that seemed to wake Sam up. “Hello Sam, Dean” You said, nodding to each “Shall we go inside? The longer we take the further the killer goes, come on” You turned your back to the and started walking inside the morgue. Dean waited until you walked further and held Sam by the elbow, making the youngest look at him in confusion.

“Stop that” Dean whisper-yelled.

“Stop what” Sam whispered back.

“Whatever your eyes are doing, I’m gonna puke if you keep that up”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You stop it, you’re reading too much into it”

“Hey, you are the one that said she might be dangerous and, honestly, you are kind of a monsterfu-”

“Dean!” Sam pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“C’mon you were hypnotized, maybe that’s what she does, or you are just in love” Dean shrugged his shoulders, holding back a grin. He loved making Sam mad.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go now or do you have any other stupid remarks?” Sam didn’t wait for an answer as he followed the direction you went in. Dean mocked his brother, mimicking Sam’s words to himself in a high pitched tone and went along.

You were already putting your gloves on when they came into the room, the dead bodies laying before you - or at least what was left of them. The lower part of the couple’s bodies was covered beneath the pale blue blankets and both torsos were exposed. It was an awful sight and, if you were about ten years younger, you would’ve puked. Everything was dilacerated, they were practically disfigured, their faces barely recognizable. Huge gashes adorned their bodies that even cleaned up still looked absolutely vile. Behind you, Dean hissed.

“Wow” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, very brutal, whoever did this wanted them to feel the pain” You said, snapping the latex gloves against your wrist and grabbing the file about the autopsy in your hands. You skimmed through the words and placed it back on the table where it previously was, turning back to the bodies to see Sam already looking through them, Dean putting on the blue gloves the mortuary offered. You approached Sam’s side and crossed your arms as you watched him work, his hands roaming through the deep rips on the skin, he seemed to come to the same conclusion you did. “It’s not a clean cut, see” You pointed out and he nodded, turning to you.

“Yeah, the skin is–”

“Ripped, not cut” You paused “How can someone do this and just…get on with their lives?” You thought out loud. You discreetly looked up to Sam’s face to see if he had any reaction to your words, to see if his face faltered when you mentioned how psychotic it would be to keep going after killing someone, to see something, anything…

His face was blank.

“You’d be shocked at what…people can do” Sam replied. He seemed to hesitate before saying ‘people’, a hard swallow, a thought behind his eyes and you marked that in your mind for later.

“Sam, I work in the FBI too you know, I’ve seen shit” Maybe you were harsh, maybe you were just defensive or maybe the years of being brought down by men in your field made you snap at his words when they weren’t that deep. He seemed to catch on to your aggressiveness and stumbled over his words to try and reword his phrase.

“No– I-I know it’s just– I mean–” He couldn’t get the words out. You softened at that, noticing your defensiveness was, in fact, exaggerated. You chuckled at him and waved your hand dismissively.

“I get what you meant” You said and he seemed to calm down, giving you a slight smile. Dimples. Again. You turned back to the bodies in front of you and reached for your pocket to get your notes. You started patting with your other hand for your pen through the other pockets and when you didn’t feel the distinctively cylindrical shape of the object you started to freak out. Where’d I leave it…

Sam noticed your squirming and when he saw the notebook in your hand he knew exactly what you were looking for. He held back a chuckle as he watched you try your hardest to remember where the pen was, the concentration in your eyes almost touchable.

“Hey” Sam called and you turned your head to him. He reached his hand up, close to your cheek and you could sense the heat radiating from his body. You froze in place as you thought that you were caught, that Sam’s intelligence overpowered yours and he figured out that you knew who he was. Well, you were wrong. Sam caught the pen you had put behind your ear between his fingers and slid it off of it, watching as your hair fell back into place. You wanted to bury yourself whole inside the ground as you felt heat spread through your face. “Here” He said, with a cheeky smile.

You took the pen out of his hand, your fingers brushing lightly against each other “Thanks” You mumbled. You started writing away what you figured from the autopsy but you couldn’t get your mind off of how close Sam had gotten. The warmth that he emitted was captivating, comforting even. How could you even think that? You were a professional, what the hell! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you had a job to do, lives to save. Sam was a killer, you put killers in jail. That’s it.

“Okay so…” Dean spoke up, breaking your embarrassment “...We can discard any murder with weapons like guns or knives, those can’t do…this” He made a face and pointed towards the wounds. You nodded in agreement as you wrote it down. When you looked up at them again they were sharing a look, having a full conversation without even speaking. You weren’t a professional in facial expressions but you could read the room, you were being kept in the dark about something. You decided against confronting them, unneeded drama in the current settings because, indeed, the longer you took to solve this case, the closer the killer was to killing other people.

“So, I have no idea if you already did but I didn’t look further in the room where the murder happened. I think I’m going to go back to the house and see if the local cops missed anything” You said, not waiting for an answer as you pocketed your notebook again and started taking off your gloves. You didn’t request their company as you were, first, still trying to figure out why they were so adamant about solving this case, second, you had to figure this murder out, and third, you needed to find a perfect moment to confront both of them. “See you around agents”

“See ya” Dean waved at you as you walked away, Sam didn’t say anything. You knew they were going to follow you, you felt their silent conversations lingering in the air as you left the room, discarding your gloves. In your head you could see them communicating with lifting eyebrows and shrugging shoulders – they were so obvious; and predictable.

–

“We are going after her” Sam said to Dean after he heard you leave. Dean nodded as he started taking off his own gloves, side eyeing his brother. Dean wasn’t stupid – he only acted like it – he knew that there was more than one reason for Sam’s eagerness to follow you.

“So…” He started and Sam knew there was something he might not like hearing coming. “Are you going to play the brave soldier saving the damsel in distress?”

Sam stopped and looked at Dean, absolute confusion adorning his features. “What?”

“Man c’mon, you can’t be thinking that she is the monster now can you? Look, I did the tests while you were…pining over her” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean didn’t let him speak. “There was holy water in her drink at the diner, the utensils she was using were pure silver…”

Sam was shocked that his brother thought that quickly, he didn’t even notice…Okay, maybe he was infatuated by you a little too much.

“She could be a ghoul,” Sam argued as a last resort.

“Already looked her up, no one that has that beautiful face has died around here. I’ve looked through the FBI database too, she’s there” Dean said. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest bit of relief knowing that you were really human. You were, in fact, beautiful, stunning even. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he did like you, a lot.

“Guess I owe you that six pack then” Sam said.

“Hey, I get the six pack, you get the girl, seems like a fair trade” Dean said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly with a cheeky smile on his face. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Either way, we have to go after her because if this ghost decides she’s next on its list, we need to get there before she gets hurt” Sam said in all seriousness as he started walking out of the room, going towards the exit. Dean followed suit, the Impala keys already on his hand.

–

They arrived at the house a minute or two after you. You were waiting in the house’s living room as you heard the rumbling of the old car’s engine. You had your weapon ready and loaded as you heard them open and close the door of the house. As soon as they turned the corner, you lifted your gun.

“Stay right fucking there! Don’t you dare move or else I’ll actually kill you, for good this time!” You screamed at them, gun in hand pointed towards Dean’s head. They widened their eyes and stopped all their movement. Sam opened his mouth to try and talk and you shifted the gun to point at him instead. He shut his mouth again and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You were fuming, anger making your hands shake lightly.

“Did you really think you were going to fool me? Who do you think you are– Better, who do you think I am?” They stood as still as a rock. “Sam and Dean Winchester” You said their names, venom running through your tongue as you did, your gun pointing respectively at each. “You better start talking or I’m popping your heads off, speak!”

“Okay, okay, look we can explain” Sam started.

“You fucking better”

“We are not dead” He said and you looked at him like he was stupid. “Me and my brother we faked our deaths but we had a reason, a much bigger reason”

“You killed people”

“We didn’t, at least not intentionally, we do the exact opposite, we save people Y/N”

“How? The deaths are there, if you are telling me the truth and really save people you do a terrible job at that” You countered. You admitted you only said this to get under their skin because if anyone knew that saving everyone was impossible was you, a federal agent.

“Put the gun down and we can talk” Dean spoke up, talking to you calmly and moving his hands slowly to try and reason with you. You were reluctant but something in their eyes, their actions towards you didn’t indicate any imminent danger. Maybe you were being stupid and, at the end, you’d be lying in a ditch, lifeless, left there to rot but you wanted to give them a chance.

“If you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands” You said and Dean, even shocked, nodded slowly – you were exaggerating but you felt the need to. You sighed and put your gun back in the waistband of your pants and saw the boys breathe in a deep breath of relief.

Sam and Dean exchanged those looks again and finally looked at you. Sam was the one you wanted to talk to, you felt deep, deep down that he was going to tell you the truth and that he was actually a good guy, that all that he did until now wasn’t just an act and he was really nice.

“Me and Dean we…We hunt monsters”

Well, now your hopes are shattered. What the fuck.

You just looked at him like he was clinically insane and waited for him to continue.

“I know it sounds crazy” Because it is “And it probably is but it’s the truth, we don’t think whatever killed that couple was a human, this is why there’s no DNA, not a single clue and why the case is hard. I assume you were assigned it because you are smart and a good agent but this is not your kind of case”

“It’s ours” Dean added and Sam agreed with a nod.

You were dumbfounded. They sounded so serious as they explained to you about the tons of different supernatural beings that existed, things you only ever heard of in fictional books and horror movies. Halfway through the talk you looked physically sick, your face pale and eyes dissociated completely and Sam quickly got a chair, ushering you to sit down. He was looking at you with such a guilty expression, like he felt bad for lying to you.

Once they stopped talking you spent a good five minutes absorbing it all as you stared at your hands folded over your lap. You thought you knew things, you thought you could solve everything, that all you needed to do was analyze everything to its minute details and you’d find a solution. Truth is, you were completely oblivious all this long, so many things that you had no idea existed causing trouble around the world, things worse than humans could ever be. You were an idiot.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked after a while, making you look up at him. “I know it’s a lot to process…” He said, carefully laying a hand over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m going to be fine” You said harshly. Sam felt the slight disappointment in your voice and frowned as he looked down at you. He had seen tons of different reactions to ‘the talk’ but this one was one of the worst, where the person feels upset with themselves for not knowing about this sooner, the kind of reaction he saw mostly on authority figures such as cops and federal agents like yourself.

You stood up and his hand fell from your shoulder. You needed to make this right, paranormal or not, this was still your case and you were solving it one way or another.

“Show me how you do it” You said, turning to look at Sam. The phrase got Dean’s attention as well as a sudden tension fell upon the room. Sam looked at you with confusion “This case is still mine, I want to learn how to get rid of…whatever killed that couple”

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. “I don’t think this is a good idea Y/N, you can get hurt” He said. You rolled your eyes and stepped closer to him, less than a foot between the two of you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m a federal agent, you don’t get to tell me I’m going to get hurt when I literally hunt and kill people if needed” You said angrily pointing your finger at him accusingly “Your little Ghostbusters roleplay doesn’t scare me”

“Okay, can you two stop? Let’s get out of here and go study about the house to see if we find anything about someone who died here who might want revenge” Dean said, approaching and looking between the two of you. “Please”

–

After spending two hours in the nearby library you finally found something. The one responsible for the killings was someone named Alicia Meadows who died in the late 60s, not little kids – it seemed like even the own urban legend the locals passed around was wrong. She was a woman who lived in that house with her husband and kids. One night she found her husband in their bed with another woman and went crazy, killing them both with a shotgun and then shooting herself. Ever since then she’d been killing couples who stayed there, the trauma of the cheating made her assume that everyone who laid in that bed on the same date, every two years, she found her husband and his mistress was also having an affair.

You three soon found out where she was buried and, after the brothers explained to you and made you swear not to arrest them for grave violation, you were driving to the cemetery.

As Dean was digging up the casket you stood beside Sam. “Do you guys do this everyday?”

Sam looked at you with a smile. “No, sometimes we behead vampires too”

You looked at him wide eyed and chuckled. He laughed with you, his face looking ten times more beautiful under the moonlight and the fucking dimples, the damn dimples. Silence fell between you as the sounds of the night – and Dean’s digging – took over. You wanted to talk more, you wanted to know more about Sam because the little you thought you knew was actually a lie. He was nice and, according to the FBI files…

“You went to law school?” You asked him. He sighed. Well damn Y/N so much for breaking the ice, good job.

“I did but…I went back to hunting soon after, you can’t run from this type of job you know?” He chuckled dryly. It was clear that was a sensitive subject for him to talk about.

“If it helps, you would’ve made a good lawyer” You smiled at him. “Besides, you look great in a suit”

He seemed stunned for a few seconds, were you flirting with him? He didn’t get to figure out because Dean made a dramatic pained sound as he straightened his back, breaking the casket open. The putrid smell of death rose and you scrunch your nose. Sam helped Dean get out of the hole and started showering the bones in alcohol and salt and you watched as Dean threw his lighter in making huge flames rise up. You jumped when it happened out of shock and Sam held your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back, the flames roared loudly with what seemed to be the anger of the woman.

Dean started gathering their stuff and you turned to Sam. “So, is this it?”

“Yeah…pretty simple actually” Sam shrugged. He looked at the fire and you could see the flames dancing in his eyes. You found Sam handsome ever since you laid your eyes on him but now, after a whole day by his side, the light touches you shared throughout the day and the care he showed towards you you wondered if it’d be too bad if you kissed him right now.

“Sam” You called him lowly and he turned to you. You stepped closer and you could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you. Your faces were inches apart and you could now see every little detail about him. The light stubble that adorned his face and the blush of red in his cheeks that you didn’t know if it was because of the heat of the fire or because you were this close.

You smiled at him and in that moment Sam couldn’t hold himself back. He closed the distance between the two of you as one of his hands cradled your cheek and the other was gently placed on your waist.

You let one of your hands place itself on his neck as you reciprocated the kiss. It was electric and warm, his soft lips over yours felt like a sweetness you didn’t know you were craving to taste. Your heart was beating fast and Sam slowly dragged your body closer to his with the help of the hand he placed on your waist.

When you pulled away you slowly opened your eyes to look straight into his and let out a stupid giggle – like a teenager after kissing her crush. Sam chuckled back as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I've wanted to do this ever since the diner” He admitted and you bit back a smile.

“Really?” You asked.

“Really”

The moment was interrupted when Dean honked the Impala, impatiently waiting for you two to finish whatever you were doing so he could go back to the room and finally sleep. Sam showed him the finger as Dean yelled a curse back making you laugh at their stupid teasing.

“Let’s go Sam, Dean’s impatient. We can finish our talk at the motel” You said, your words full of innuendo making Sam turn back to you. You knew you got him when you felt his hand squeeze your waist for a moment before letting go.

“Oh yeah?” He said with a grin, looking down at your mouth and back at your eyes. You nodded.

“Yeah”

A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo