Chapter Text
This was definitely not how your day was meant to go, your day was meant to be straightforward.
1. Arrive at Boone, Colorado
2. Split up, tackle the Sheriff’s department, coroners office and victims families all at once
3. Meet up at the local bar or diner and discuss your findings
4. Rent a motel room
5. Layout maps and plans and hopefully discover where the werewolves were
6. Suit up, get your weapons, drive to the den, wipe out the werewolves
7. Get some grub, maybe get shitfaced, grab a shower and hit the hay
8. Drive out in the morning, back to the bunker or another case
Pretty simple, something you have done a thousand times over without fail or complication. And yet your day was somehow more like this;
1. Arrive late at Boone, Colorado
2. Split up, you somehow ended up with the Sheriff’s department, where they were all a bunch of sexist pigs who gave you no information, Just a couple of gross remarks and an ass slapping before you were on your way
3. You went to the diner across the road, but Dean went to a bar three streets away and Sam went to another bar even further away
a. You called and set up a meeting place at your diner
b. You spent your time waiting for them chewing on ice and resisting the urge to throw some guys bacon out the window (which in itself was weird, you love bacon)
c. The boys arrived, you ordered lunch, discussed what you learned (which for you was nothing)
4. Rented a motel room, two beds, mould, not the best place you’ve stayed but also not the worst
5. Somebody (dean) forgot to grab or pack any maps
a. You had to go to the library and get one
b. (made a pit stop to a public bathroom when your stomach rolled, that damn second burger probably wasn’t the best choice)
c. Came back to the motel and set up the maps
d. Spent the next few hours trying to find the werewolves
e. Finally discovered where they were
6. Suited up, got weapons, (raided the vending machine for snacks) drove to the den, did not wipe out the werewolves. You got ambushed and tied up.
a. You were tied to a chair in a basement with no clue where the boys were and some werewolves leering at you
b. One of which was a Sheriffs deputy, the same one that slapped your ass
So your day wasn’t really going according to plan, but that’s fine, it’s happened before, you can handle it. What you can’t handle is having no idea where your boys are or if they’re okay. You also can’t handle the slightly spinning room and the fact that your belly can’t decide whether you’re really hungry or if you’ve been recently poisoned. And you definitely cannot handle these werewolves and their need to sniff and pet you, talking about fresh blood and fertility.
“If any of you people eaters try and breed me I will rip off your dick and fuck you with it,” you try and wriggle away from the hands rubbing your sides and belly.
The three wolves in the basement with you laugh, the one rubbing you pulls something from his pocket and forces it over your head.
“And how exactly are you going to do that with a gag on?” the smarmy blonde asks.
The one who gagged you pats your head condescendingly his brown eyes alight with amusement. The final one, a big oaf with no hair is pacing the room, occasionally pausing and tilting his head towards the roof. Listening to whatever is going on above, maybe it’s your boys.
You try to yell for them, but it just comes out as muffled moans. You throw yourself forward, tilting the chair but brown eyes catches it and pushed you upright.
“Careful now my little moon goddess, don’t want to hurt the baby.”
You want to say “Moon Goddess? What the fuck, and what baby you smelly asshole?” but instead all you say is “Moom, mrrs, waa huh, ehhh ot mhm oo hehe ahuh”
Not exactly the angry words you were looking for, but you’re sure they get the gist of it anyway. You continue struggling and call out for Dean or Sam in spite of your inability to talk or move.
“Hush, lovely. Too much stress is bad for the baby,” smarmy blonde caresses your face “not to worry, Joshua has just the thing for you.”
The big oaf lumbers towards you with a needle in hand, your struggles start again, desperate to get away from whatever it is they have in the needle. Smarmy blonde continues to stroke you and whisper soothing words whilst ‘Joshua’ places the needle at your neck and presses the plunger.
Later…
“Y/n!” your eyes shoot open and meet the lovely green eyes you fell in love with. So sparkly and green, like Rapunzel, or a fresh apple.
“Dean?” you mumble, your head hurts and everything except Dean’s eyes are fuzzy.
You haven’t felt like this since that wild party at the end of finals at college. Though this feels worse, much worse. Probably the whole age thing, losing the ability to handle hard liquor and drugs.
“Yeah it’s me, are you alright?” he looks worried, he should never look worried. His cute face should be smiling all the time. You clumsily reach a hand up and try to move his mouth into some semblance of a smile. But you ultimately fail, making a weird smushed grimace that only freaks you out.
“M’fine,” you slump forward and he catches you in his arms “they made me go sleepy-byes.”
You can hear Sam’s soft chuckle. Good, he should be happy too, why isn’t Dean laughing? You try to tickle him but your arms are uncooperative, they just flop around slightly, whacking him in the stomach. You wished you were whacking the wolves in the stomach instead, wait, where are the wolves?
“Where are they?” you ask, eyes trying to make out their fuzzy forms.
“Dead,” Sam kicks at a body on the floor. That’s a bit rude. Although they did drug you, maybe you should kick them too. You try to thrust your leg out but all you manage to do is knee yourself in the chin.
“All of them?” they nod “the smarmy blonde?” Sam points at a blonde halfway up the stairs “and brown-eyes?”
“Didn’t really stop to look into their eyes,” Dean rubs your back “but I think he might be the one in the corner.”
You turn your head to look in the corner, but the room spins and your stomach flips. Maybe moving is something you shouldn’t be doing right now. But that’s only two of the wolves, what about the tree-man?
“Joshua?” you ask.
“Joshua?” Dean raises his eyebrows at you, ha, they’re like itchy grubs.
“That’s what they called him, he’s an oaf, like Sam. But he has no hair so he’s not Sam.”
This time it’s Dean’s beautiful laugh, finally. That’s the only noise you want to hear ever. It’s probably what plays as you enter the pearly gates to heaven.
“Well, now that we’ve cleared all that up, how about we head home?” Sam grumbles. Heading for the stairs without even waiting for an answer.
“Home sounds nice,” you snuggle into Dean and close your eyes.
At the Bunker…
You squish your face into your pillow, trying to get away from the pesky bright light that just turned on. Someone is calling your name softly, trying to wake you but you’re comfortable and warm and really don’t want to get up.
Something flops onto the bed, causing you to bounce up slightly and lose your pillow. You open your eyes and glare at the perpetrator.
“Don’t look at me like that, you’ve been asleep for hours,” Jess pouts, you continue glaring “and I haven’t seen you for like a week, I missed you.”
“Oh don’t give me that, how am I meant to stay mad when you give me the sad eyes and sweet words?”
“You’re not meant to stay mad, that’s the point,” Jess grins “now get up, Dean’s making breakfast.” She sits up on the bed and moves to get off of it, you reach out and clasp her wrist.
“Wait!”
“What is it?”
“It’s probably nothing, just something those werewolves said. They kept talking about a baby, and touching my belly and it made me think. I can’t remember the last time I took my pills, or when I last got my period.”
Jess gasps as you speak, eventually her shocked face morphs into a grin that gets bigger the longer you speak. “You’re pregnant?”
“Maybe? I don’t know. I’d have to take a test, just don’t tell anyone till I know.” You sigh, your head dropping into your hands. Jess crawls over and wraps her arms around you.
“I know you’re worried because of the hunting life. But I’ve been just fine, living in the bunker while you guys go killing things. What’s to say your baby can’t too? You don’t even have to give up hunting, I can look after the little one if you ever want to go on a case.” Jess rubs your back as you lean into her, trying to soothe you.
“Thanks, Jess, I just need to think about it all. I just need time.”
“Well, you’ve got a few months before you…” she gestures a big stomach “and I think you should tell Dean sooner rather than later.”
…
That night finds you lying in bed while Dean is in the shower, tracing shapes along your flat stomach.
“What am I going to do?” but of course, you get no response. Not from your baby, or your inner voice, or even some divine intervention.
“Guess this is something I’ll have to figure out on my own,” you pull your hands away as the shower shuts off and Dean comes to bed.
You’ll figure this out. You have to.