Questions: How?
A Supernatural Fan-fiction
Featuring: Sam Winchester X Female Reader
Setting: Starts in Season 6, breaks off in Season 8
Chapter 1 of my Questions Series
A/N: I started a challenge for @ericaprice2008 and needed to build up to the fluff parts. There is canon level violence and a story of a dying kid. This is a collection of back stories from Y/N’s perspective. Other chapters are from Sam’s, hope y’all like how it goes! A comment or a reblog goes a LONG way. xoxo Stu
Sam smiled shyly down at you, his eyes twinkling with hope. And the only thing that crossed your mind was ‘How did I get so lucky?’
You first understood how misunderstood the Winchesters are, after a case in Indiana. The Brothers that had started and somehow thwarted the Apocalypse, Death and an array of demons were just regular guys with a few too many chips on their shoulders.
You and your cousin Rafe had been closing in on a pair of Djinn who were also running a substantial drug operation. Which, of course, made it harder to get to the monsters themselves. After two weeks and Rafe getting abducted did you get them within your grasp. Suddenly two bulky dudes were barking orders; guns in one hand and knives in the other.
“Back off pricks. These djinn are mine.” You spat, glaring at each of them suspiciously.
“Cool it, sweetheart. That’s fair. I can tell it’s personal,” the cocky one started, side eyeing the giant. In silent agreement they helped you flank the bottom feeders, making good use of your blood caked blade.
By the time you got to Rafe, it was too late; his body limp and drained. The look of euphoria the only solace as the sick satisfaction of killing his captors had already begun to fade. You tried to act strong in the presence of these strange hunters, but you all knew it was a mask.
Hours later and you had begun to hold normal conversation again. You chuckled humorlessly upon learning their identities. After all, they were their own type of legend. Sam spoke to you in low tones, his long hair floating in the night breeze as you told him about your cousin and how you had been hunting together most of your lives.
“How’d you get started?” He asked, true curiosity in his fathomless eyes.
You sighed and dove into your origin story: “Family camping trip. Rafe’s little sister was dying of cancer and we went as a last hoorah, so to speak. The Wendigo came at night, dragging our parents out in to the woods. Rafe, Julia and I slept in one bed. I saw it, lingering in the shadows by the door.
Oh man if only I didn't have to adult today and I could sit and read the rest!