Figuring Out What to Do

Pale yellow streaks of sun rays seep into the cluttered living room, their warmth enveloping everything in its path with gentle arms. Basking in the refreshing light, (y/n) sits curled up on the sofa, legs pulled up to rest against her chest. Still covered in grime from the day before, she yanks off her baggy hoodie and folds it neatly to rest it upon the messy coffee table. Now just in a grey tank top, (y/n) let's her fingers trail against the exposed skin of her arms, taking in as much heat from the air as she can to rejuvenate her body. Over one hundred years in her human form and she still found herself doing things a bird would. Suddenly, the front door to the small home swings open. Turning to face the noise, her eyes meet Dean's, sweat beading his forehead from working on his car all morning.

"Hey, Dean" She greets the man kindly, still trying hard to be on his good side and show him that having her on the team wasn't a mistake. He strides over to the kitchen and yanks open the fridge door.

"Tweety-" he responds casually, voice friendlier than the day before.

"Need any help with your car?"

"I told you before, I'm fine-" He reassures her, reminding her that he was someone who relieved stress by being able to fix things without any help ,"-Beer?"

"No thank you, it's not that fun to drink for someone like me"

"What do you mean?" She smiles at the curiosity in his eyes

"The alcohol burns up inside of me when I drink any alcohol. I can't get drunk"

"Shouldn't have said that, Tweety-" He smirks lightly, popping open his beer to take a long swig of the amber liquid ,"-cause now you just made yourself the designated driver for whenever any of us get shit faced."

Laughing lightly at her mistake, knowing full well they'd take advantage of that fact, she finds her chest warming at the thought. Dean was talking to her, joking with her, and insinuating that she'd be here with them for a while. That was something big for someone like her who had been alone for almost her entire existence. Opening the fridge again, she watches as the man pulls out a small can of soda. Without any hesitation, Dean tosses the cold beverage to the girl sitting on the couch. She catches it easily

"Thanks" She quietly expresses her gratitude and opens up the small can, putting the beverage up to her lips to take a sip. The pair drinking in a comfortable silence, are suddenly interrupted by the sound of thudding footsteps. Turning in her seat to face the wooden staircase, her (e/c) eyes widen slightly upon the sight of Sam.

"Hey, (y/n)" He greets the girl quietly, voice revealing his exhaustion. Dean, hearing his brother's tired voice, makes his way towards the open archway.

"Sam"

"Hey, Dean" Sam smiles slightly at his brother, body leaning against the back frame of the couch (y/n) was sitting in. Quickly scanning Sam, Dean let's his own body rest against the door frame

"Wow, you're-uh-walking and talking"

"Yeah-" Sam scoffs gently, almost in disbelief ,"-I-uh-put on my own socks, the whole nine"

"Well, that's-uhm" Dean is hesitant to continue, as if his own voice would break the tired looking man in front of him ,"-I mean, you...you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah!" Sam quickly answers, trying his best to reassure Dean ,"-my head hurts a little, but basically"

"Seriously?"

"Look, man, I'm as surprised as you are, but, yeah! I swear, Dean."

"Good-" Dean's eyes give away his hidden concern for the man, still not fully believing his brother's mental state ,"-no reason putting a gift horse under a microscope, right?"

"Yeah..." Sam lets out a sigh, clearing his throat slightly before he continues ,"What happened with Cas?"

Dean avoids the man's curious gaze, hesitant to answer and using his bottle of liquor to drown out his unspoken words. Watching the scene, (y/n) decides to fill him in for Dean, seeing his silent plead for help as he continues to drink

"After declaring himself as the new God-" She begins with a sigh, chin resting on the back frame of the couch near where Sam's hand was ,"-he vanished. Bobby has been working with a bunch of other people to figure out where he might've gone, but so far....They haven't found anything."

"Well, that's great" Sam responds sarcastically, bandaged hand running itself through her light brown locks

"We'll find him" (y/n) states it confidently, presenting it as a fact to the boys who look at her through furrowed eyebrows

"How are you so sure?" Dean asks through another swig of his drink. (y/n)'s eyes seem unfocused, (e/c) orbs trailing off to look somewhere else as she recalls what she saw the day before

"Souls are powerful, it's the reason why my soul is able to hop into more than one form-" She explains, goosebumps forming on her skin as she remembers the power radiating off of Castiel ,"-jamming millions upon millions of them into a tiny vessel like his...He's a ticking time bomb. Having power like that, you're bound to get some attention."

"Yeah? Well let's just hope we find him before the bomb explodes, huh?" Dean takes his final drink before tossing the glass bottle into a wastebasket near the corner. Clapping his hands together, eyes glancing at the two by the couch, he motions towards the door

"Come on, help me fix baby" fondly referring to his car, Sam hops up from his seat, obviously excited to join his brother and not be cooped up in the house. When (y/n) doesn't move, figuring he'd just want Sam's help since he declined her offer before, Dean stares at her. Upon seeing her somewhat awkward form still seated on the couch, his gaze softens. Never had he thought he would be growing a soft spot for a monster like her, but here he was, wanting her to be a part of the team. Maybe it was because she wasn't dangerous, maybe it was because she's done nothing but help them. Whatever it was, he knew he could put some of his trust in her.

"You're coming too, (y/n)" He covers his moment of strange vulnerability and hardens his exterior ,"need you to help flatten out a roof"

---------1 week later----------

Jolting awake from her curled up position in the chair she basically claimed as hers, (y/n)'s eye's frantically scan the empty room. The pale glow of the moonlight stretches across the living area, illuminating the chaotic organization of books on every empty surface. Standing up from her makeshift bed, she follows the strange sound that had woken her up

"Sam?" calling out his name softly, she makes her way into the kitchen, eyes widening at the sight of his massive body hunched over and trembling against the wooden table. Rushing to his side, scanning his sharp features contorting in discomfort, she reaches out a gentle hand. Running her fingers through the man's soft hair, she pushes the locks back to reveal a stream of tears running down his face

"Wake up, Sam!" Roughly shoving the man's shoulders, she watches as he flinches violently, eyes snapping open. Baby blue eyes meeting (y/n)'s, he lets out labored breaths of air, body shaking as he tries to calm himself. Pulling up one of the dark stained chairs beside her, she takes a seat and watches the man carefully, patiently waiting for him to ease the erractical beating of his heart.

"You were crying" She states it plainly, voice soft. Hearing this, Sam's quick to try and roughly wipe at his own face, messily sopping up the liquid with his unrolled flannel sleeves. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he searches the room

"Where's Dean and Bobby?"

"Working on the car in the shed outside"

There's a moment of silence that passes between the two before he's suddenly up onto his feat. (y/n)'s (e/c) eyes watch his every move

"I'm going to the bathroom"

With that awkward goodbye, he makes his way out of the room, his footsteps growing fainter with every step he takes. Hearing the back screen door creak open, (y/n) sighs. Dean told her to keep an eye on him and that's what she needed to do. Hopping up from her own seat, she follows after the taller man, stealthily hiding in the shadows as she watches his form make its way towards the large metal shed. Hiding close behind him, she observes him as he begins to eavesdrop into the conversation Bobby and Dean were having.

"Seriously, though, Bobby-" Dean's voice sounds tired as he continues ,"-I mean, look at our lives. How many more hits can we take? If Sam says he's good, then he's good."

"You believe that?" Sam steps closer to the crack in the door

"Yeah...." There's a pause before Dean speaks again through a sigh ,"No. You want to know why? Because we never catch a break! So why would we this time?"

"Dean-"

"But just...just this one thing, you know? I'm not dumb, I'm not gonna get my hope up, just to get kicked in the daddy pills again-"

Before Dean and Bobby can finish their conversation, Sam begins to walk away from the shed door. (y/n) can see the heartbreak he feels as if it were written across his face in bold letters. Stepping out from the shadows with her arms crossed against her chest, she stops him in his path. His eyes widen with surprise

"(y/n)-"

"Bathroom, huh?" She asks with a gentle smile, soft features illuminated by the hanging yellow light overhead ,"You're not going to tell them, are you?"

"I can't, (y/n)" He lets out a pained sigh, light eyes casting a sad look towards the shed ,"you heard them...I can't let them worry about me right now, there's too much going on"

"They're your family-" She tries to defend, pitying the way he feels the need to hide his well being to protect the others ,"-they're there to help you through whatever is going on"

"I'll let them know..." He meets her gaze, pleading with her to understand ,"just not right now, I can't. Please...don't tell them"

"Sam-"

"(y/n), please, for me?"

"Fine" She lets out a tired sigh, arms uncrossing in defeat as she stares at the man before her. She knew he needed help. He was struggling, she could feel the pain in his soul, but she knew she couldn't convince him to talk to somebody. All she could do was watch him carefully and intervene when things got too bad. Walking over to him, she motions towards the shed. Taking her lead, they open the doors, announcing their presence loudly to the pair by the car with the low creak of the hinges

"Hey" Sam greets the pair, walking forward slowly with (y/n) by his side. Bobby and Dean share a knowing glance before turning to the taller man

"How are you feeling, sport?" Bobby asks, trying his best to hide his worry. Sam chuckles lightly

"Can't complain"

"Great-" Dean sighs, rubbing the black paint staining his hands with a dirty white towel ,"-what's the word?"

"Well, a publishing house literally exploded-" Sam looks over to (y/n) for more information

"Happened about an hour ago. A lot of people died" She adds for him, arms crossing themselves over her chest as she watches him continue

"The body count is really getting up there, we gotta do something"

"What we got to do is hunt the son of a bitch..." Bobby pauses and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly ,"Unfortunately, I lost my God gun, so..."

"You said that angel blades and holy oil could hurt him-" (y/n) begins, turning to Sam ,"-is there anything else that you guys know could possibly kill something like him?"

"Maybe some kind of heavenly weapon, something out of that angel arsenal that Balthazar stole? There has to be something that can hurt him" Sam tosses out the idea, obviously desperate to try anything at this point. Dean shakes his head with a sigh, body moving forward to clean up the mess of tools lying about.

"He's God, guys-" there's a long pause before he speaks again, green eyes staring off into the distance as he tries to rack his brain of any ideas ,"-there isn't anything that can hurt him..."

"-but there might be someone"