Wanted Winchesters
The basement of the small cabin home is filled with a coating of dust, fogging the air as pale yellow light seeps in through the grime covered windows in the corners of the concrete room. The rotted wooden steps leading down to the cracked stone floors creak with every step Sam, Dean, and (y/n) take, the small group heading down to check up on their little lab rat. She can hear the Leviathan's voice as he calls out to the two brothers through a smile
"And how are my two favorite meat-slices?" He asks them enthusiastically, smile fading slightly upon seeing (y/n)'s form emerge from behind them ,"Oh...you brought, Vermin? Guess the little pest can join the party too"
"Shut your trap or I'll shut it for you" Dean is quick to defend (y/n), not liking the new nickname Chet had given her since his stay here ,"He's still sucking air?"
"Greatest hits didn't do the trick-" Bobby explains with a sigh, motioning towards the wide assortments of items spread across a wooden table ,"-I'm down to b-sides and deep cuts."
"Well, you better figure out something quick, Bobby. That whammy that witch dude put on him is only gonna last for a few days. He gets his spinach back, we're gonna up up having to drop a car on him"
(y/n) notices the way an amused grin spreads across Chet's face, the man finding them entertaining as he clears his throat loudly to get their attention
"Actually-" He begins, chuckling lightly ,"-Edgar walked away from that car. He's fine! Well, he is a little pissed at you, but..."
The group all stare at him, confusion written across their faces. He stops talking, furrowing his eyebrows as he feigns pity.
"Oh...you didn't know?"
"Why don't you shut your cake trap" Dean warns again, receiving an amused smile from the monster before them.
"You used all of this stuff and he still hasn't talked?" (y/n) asks the older hunter, deciding to stop entertaining the creature. Bobby shakes his head sadly, a look of hopelessness crossing his face. Dean, growing more frustrated by the second, decides to take things into his own hands. Walking over to the chained up monster in the corner, the hunter pulls up a small stool to sit on.
"Huddle over, coach?" Chet jokes dryly. Dean ignores him
"How'd you find us?"
"It was easy!" Chet scoffs before explaining ,"I used pattern-recognition software and a basic heuristic algorithm to track your known aliases."
"Great-" Bobby sighs, leaning back against the table of weapons behind him ,"-just what we need, a Mensa monster."
"Where did you get the aliases?" (y/n) asks, only to get a dark chuckle in reply
"You think I'm gonna answer to you, Vermin?"
"Just answer the damn question" Sam sighs in annoyance. Chet reluctantly complies with a sly smile
"From your trench-coated friend, obviously. When we were all nestled in at camp Cas, kind of got the full download. That's just how we do."
"So why are you talking to us, Chet? You're not dumb, why spill state secrets?" Bobby asks the question on everybody's minds, the group wondering why he would be giving up information so easily. A haunting look crosses the man's face, unwavering confidence lacing his voice as he answers slowly, enunciating every word
"'Cause I'm not scared of you. You can't stop me. You can't stop any of us. We can't be killed, you stupid little chew-toys...."
A moment of silence passes through the group as the words settle in the air, hanging like a fog as the hunters process the information. Suddenly, Chet laughs. A deep and gleeful laugh that sends shivers down (y/n) spine as she carefully watches his chained form
"You are aware that I'm the least of your concerns, right?" he asks through a smirk, motioning towards the upstairs area "You haven't watched the news today, have you?"
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"The two men, who up until today were presumed dead, locked the doors and opened fire, leaving no survivors. Sam and Dean Winchester are now the subjects of a manhunt throughout the state of California-"
The glowing screen of the T.V. sizzles until it shuts off, Bobby holding the small remote in his hand as he glances over at the brothers resting against the couch. (y/n), turning to watch the sides of their faces as they stare ahead, feels the boiling anger residing in them. She couldn't blame them though, if she were in their situation, she'd be pissed too.
"Busy morning, you two?" Bobby finally asks, his dry humor not exactly helping the situation as Dean fumes beside him
"Those sons of bitches xeroxed us" He spits through clenched teeth
"But I don't understand how...." Sam comments absentmindedly, walking over to Bobby as he grabs a few beers from inside of the fridge.
"I don't know-" Bobby tosses the beverages to each person, all catching them easily as they join him in the kitchen ,"-maybe one of 'em touched you at the hospital-"
"It was the hair!" Chets voice echoes from the basement suddenly, "Not too hard to lift some DNA out of a motel shower drain, guys!"
"You can copy people like that?" Dean asks, not really wanting to believe it ,"Awesome..."
"How come they didn't copy (y/n) then too?" Sam asks, glancing over at the girl sipping at the beer in her fingers. Before she's able to answer them, Chet's beating her to it
"Because the little pest doesn't age, dumbasses!" she can tell he's shouting through a smile by how the words sound ,"No hair to collect!"
Turning to the girl to confirm the information, she nods, annoyance evident on her face. Dean sighs lightly in frustration
"Well, what is their plan, exactly?" he asks Bobby, but the question seems to be directed to no one in particular. Just a moment to voice out his own confusion as he tries to piece together everything, only the puzzle is broken and he doesn't have hands
"Squeeze us-" Sam absentmindedly replies, light eyes focused on the floor as he thinks ,"-turn us into the most wanted men in America."
"All right, well-" Dean claps his hands together, as if determined to do something (y/n) was sure going to end badly for some reason ,"-that settles it. We find these ass monkeys and we kill them ourselves."
"Wait a second-" Bobby let's out his famous fatherly sigh, worry evident in his eyes ,"-every form of law enforcement in the country has seen your ugly mugs this morning"
"Exactly. So what's the point in trying to hide?" Dean replies, but is quickly shut down by Bobby again
"Better than sticking your fool neck out. These things are smarter than you"
"Geez, Bobby, don't sugarcoat it" Sam scoffs.
"You don't have a clue how to kill 'em or slow 'em down, and your plan is, what? Go right at 'em? Genius"
"They're wearing our faces, Bobby. This is personal"
"I'm with Dean here" Sam agrees, leaving an anxiety ridden Bobby to stare at them through narrowed eyes as they stand their ground. (y/n) finds herself smiling lightly at the determined look in their faces as they refuse to back down from Bobby, resembling children too stubborn to listen to their father.
"Well, if you're gonna be stupid, you might as well be smart about it..." Bobby finally sighs, grabbing a hold of his thick wallet to yank out an old piece of paper ,"You need to see a fella named Frank Devereux."
"Who's he?" Sam asks, taking the small tattered note from Bobby's fingers
"He's a jackass and a lunatic, but he owes me one, from back in Port Huron"
"What'll you do?" Dean questions, briefly glancing to the address written across the note. Bobby motions towards the basement, rolling his eyes
"I'll keep working on chatty cathy here, see if I can figure out what makes him die"
(y/n) throws an arm over the older hunters shoulder, smirking slightly when he whines at the physical contact
"I'll stay with the old geezer, keep him safe while you two have some brother-bonding time!" She announces happily, recalling all of the strange tension between the two during the last hunt and knowing that they should have some time alone without a bird on their shoulders.
"You sure, (y/n)?"
"What? You gonna miss me or something?"
"Ew, no"
"Then I'm sure, boys, I'll be fine. Go kick some ass for us, alright?"