《Supernatural x Male!Reader Season 2!》Supernatural x Male!Reader Part 44!

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If I were to write stories about my oc's on my page, would anyone be interested?

They'd of course be horror based, as I LOVE horror. Just wanna know if anyone would be interested. Don't see a point in going through all that effort if no one really cares

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Episode: Season 2 Episode 14

Part: 1

Key:

(M/n) = Male Name

(L/n) = Last Name

(D/n) = Demon Name

(N/n) = Nickname

WARNING: Death, swearing, boy x boy, some triggering stuff. This is Supernatural, everything happens in this show/fandom

Enjoy~!

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~Underpass, day~

Dean was on his cellphone, leaning against his car. He was fidgeting, clearly upset. (M/n) was sitting on top of the Impala, Dean was facing his back to the male and was between his legs. The demon was rubbing the others shoulders, trying to comfort him.

"Ellen, it's me again. Any chance you've heard from him? I swear, it's like looking for my dad all over again. I'm losing my mind here. No, I've called him a thousand times, there's nothing but voicemail. I don't know where he went, or why. Sam's just gone" His phone beeped. "Hang on." His phone said SAM'S CELL and he answered it. "Sammy? Where the hell are you? Are you okay? Hey, hey, hey! Calm down. Where are you? All right, don't move. Me and (M/n) are on our way."

~Motel room~

Dean was walking frantically down a narrow hallway, checking door numbers untll he reaches room 109. He knocked. "Sam, it's me. Sam!" He tried the door, it was open. Inside, Sam was sitting on one bed, numbly.

"Sam? Hey."

"Hey, Dean."

Dean knelt beside his brother. "Are you bleeding?"

"I tried to wash it off."

Dean saw Sam's shirt covered in blood, he gropes at it, searching for a wound. (M/n) walked in, hands in pockets. "Oh my god."

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"I don't think it's my blood."

"Whose is it?"

"I don't know."

"Sam, what happened?"

Sam finally looked up. "Dean. I don't remember anything."

~Later~

Dean came in the room, carrying a grocery bag. Sam changed clothes and looked a little less out of it. (M/n) was watching the Winchester carefully, something didn't seem right to him.

"What'd you find out?"

"You checked in two days ago under the name Richard Simbora. Of course, I think the scariest part about this whole thing is the fact that you're a Bon Jovi fan."

"Dean."

"Your room's been quiet, nobody noticed anything unusual."

"You mean no one saw me walking around covered in blood?"

"Yeah. THat's what I mean."

"Then how the hell did I get here, Dean? What happened to me?"

"I don't know. But you're, you're okay, and that's what matters. Everything else we can deal with."

"oh really? 'Cause what if I hurt someone? Or worse?"

"Sam..."

"What if this is what dad warned you about?"

"Hwy, whoa, whoa, come on man, let's not jump the gun here. We don't know what happened. We've just got to treat this like, like any other job. What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam sat down. "Just me, you, and (M/n) in a motel room in West Texas, going out to grab some burgers, and...."

"West Texas? That was, that was over a week ago."

"That's it." Dean looked stunned. "Next thing I knew I was sitting here. Bloody. Felt like I'd been asleep for a month."

"Okay. Retrace your steps. The manager said you left yesterday afternoon and he never saw you come back, so," he pulled back the curtain to find a bloody fingerprint on the window. "Hey."

~Outside the Motel~

The three walked outside the motel. It was daylight, but raining abit.

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"Recognize anything?" Dean asked his brother.

"Not really." They walked towards a parking garage out back. "Wait."

"What?"

"I think I was here."

"You remember?"

"Not really, it just.....feels familiar, you know?" Both Dean and (M/n) shrugged. Dean went to the nearest garage. Sam looked over to the second one and points." Try that one. Yeah."

(M/n) tugged at the padlock. "Alrighty then."

"Wait." Sam dug in his pocket, frowning. He pulled out a key, gives (M/n) a significant look. The boy took the key and opened the padlock with the key, raising an eyebrow. He pulled the garage door open to reveal a filthy, beat up VW Beetle.

"Oh, please tell me you didn't steal this." Dean said.

Sam fidgeted. They went in the garage and open both doors of the car, Sam on the driver's side. He touches the wheel, showing the two males his stained finger. "More blood."

(M/n) pointed. "Sam. Back seat." Sam reached down, picks up a blood-stained knife that sticks to the floor of the backseat. He stared at it. "You think I used this on someone?"

"I'm not thinking anything."

Sam looked around, rubs the knife handle off on the inside of his jacket. Dean picked up a pack of cigarettes.

"Okay, now this is disturbing. Come on, man, this couldn't have been you. Had to have been someone else, somebody who, uh." Dean sniffed the pack, but before he could answer, (M/n) did.

"Smokes menthols."

"Here. Gas receipt. Few towns over."

~Gas Station~

The boys pull up in front of a small gas station.

"All right. Receipts for ten gallons at pump number 2. You getting any, uh, any goosebumps yet? 'God this looks familiar', deja vu vibes?" Sam shook his head. "Maybe someone inside will remember you. Come on."

They go into the convenience store. The clerk looked up in shock, then anger. "You. Outta here now, I'm calling the cops."

"You talking to him?"

"Yeah, I'm talking to him. Jerk comes in yesterday, stinking drunk, grabs a forty from the fridge, starts chugging."

"This guy? You're drinking malt liquor?"

"Not after he whipped the friggin' bottle at my head."

"This guy?" (M/n) asked, pointing at Sam.

"What, am I speaking Urdu?"

"Look, I'm really sorry if I did anything-"

"Tell your story walkin', pal. Po-po will be here in five."((If there's any young ones reading this, which if your under the age of mature, then you probably shouldn't be, po-po means police))

"Wait, wait, put the phone down. Sam, go wait in the car."

"But Dean-"

"Go wait in the car!" Sam sighed and left. "Okay, look, man. We just want to talk to you, that's it. Okay?" The clerk hangs up. "Now, when he took off yesterday, which way did he go?"

"Why don't you ask him?"

"'Cause we're asking you." The demon said.

"Now please, you'd be doing me and my friend here a huge favor."

"Oh, do you a favor? Well, that is what I live for. You know, your buddy didn't pay for the booze. Okay? Or the smokes. which he also illegally lit up."

"You saw him smoking?"

"Yeah. Guy's a chimney." The clerk said.

Dean cleared his throat and pulls his wallet out and places some bills on the desk.

"This, uh, ought to cover it."

"Hmmm. It's, uh, it's coming back to me now. He took two packs."

Dean pulled out more. "Of course he did."

"Are humans really this persuasive with money?" That yarned the demon an elbow to the gut. "Yep, got it. Shut up, (M/n), I got it." He held his stomach.

"He went north. Route 71, straight out of town." Dean nodded, grabs two candy bars and leaves with a smirk. The demon gave him a swift slap upside the head before they got in the car.

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