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darthcastiel · 8 years ago

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A Legend: Part One

A/N: This is my first fanfiction posting. I apologize if it’s not so great. I’m still learning, but I tried my best.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Female Reader

Summary: The reader meets the Winchesters during a hunt and learns they have someone in common. They get to know each other, but the reader is hiding a huge secret.

Word Count: 1143

Warnings: None

You had just finished off the last vamp in the huge nest. You turned to see two men gawking at you. One of them was taller with long brown hair, the other was slightly shorter with sandy hair and candy green eyes that you could have stared into for days. Seconds passed before the shorter man opened his mouth to say, “I didn't know someone that short could be that feisty. That was awesome, and really hot.”

The taller man glared at his companion before saying, “I’m sorry about my brother. I'm Sam and this is Dean. We were working this case and we didn't realize that anyone else was solving it. It's pretty amazing how you took on all of those vampires by yourself. What's your name?”

“Y/f/n y/l/n,” you responded quickly. The brothers exchanged a quick look and then Sam smiled as he said, “Bobby Singer told us about you, he used to tell us that you're the best Hunter he’d ever met. He’s told us incredible stories about you.” “You're like… a legend!” Dean added.

“While I’m flattered, that is certainly not true. Bobby taught me most of everything I know about hunting. He took me in and was like a father to me. I was just a weak little kid on the run before I found him.” “I just didn't realize you would be so, um… small. And I'm sorry to ask but what kind of accent do you have?” Sam asked.

“It's quite alright to ask, I was originally from Italy but I moved to America when I was about 15. Both of my parents were killed by the supernatural. I found Bobby about six months after coming to America.” You replied.

“So, do you want to go to a bar and get a drink with us to celebrate your successful hunt? We can bond, swap Bobby stories, and maybe braid Sam’s hair. Maybe if you come then I won't be so mad about you stealing our hunt.” Said Dean.

“Sure, but I don't know about braiding Sam’s hair, he doesn't seem like that type of girl. And as for the hunt, I got here first, I walked here, do you have a car?”

“Damn straight I have a car, Baby’s waiting in the back.” As you walked behind the nest with the boys you noticed his car, black, 1967 Chevrolet Impala. It had been taken care of well. You thought it was beautiful. Dean told you that you could put your machete in the trunk and then you climbed into the back seat.

You had to stifle your laughter when you saw Sam getting into the car. He looked awkward with his long limbs. Dean climbed into the driver’s seat and you inwardly cringed as you heard Led Zeppelin’s music. You were slightly nervous at the prospect of hanging out with two hunters. You would have to act like a normal human and hope that they couldn't figure out your secret.

As Dean found the nearest bar classic rock played from the car’s stereo. It was similar to the music that Bobby used to listen to, oh how you missed Bobby. He was your basically your father, he taught you how to hunt, he took care of you, and he loved you as his own child. He also kept your secret because he knew that if his friends found out then they would hunt you down. He was okay with you not being completely human. He accepted you exactly how you were.

The chatter of the boys stopped and you suddenly realized that Sam had asked you a question. “I’m sorry I just zoned out. What did you say?”

“I asked you why you left Italy and came here.” You were shocked by his question. You hadn’t thought about that part of your life in a long time.

“My mom died giving birth to me and my dad was killed when I was four. My godfather decided that I would be better off in America. He wasn’t mentally stable. He didn’t think he could care for me properly.” Okay maybe that last part was a lie. He thought you would be safer because there were angels after you.

“Oh I’m so sorry that must have been horrible, having to leave your home like that with no one there with you.” Sam said, sounding genuinely sympathetic.

“So how did you two get into hunting?” you asked curious about the brothers, Bobby had never told you a single thing about them, although he liked to keep you separate from the rest of his life.

“Our mother was killed by a demon and our dad was determined to hunt it down.” Dean replied. That surprised you, Dean had been relatively quiet up to this point.

Soon, you all arrived at the hole in the wall bar that Dean chose. You would have opted for something a little bit classier, but if this is what the boys wanted, who were you to complain? You found a table for four and sat down. Both of the boys ordered beer and you decided to choose bourbon.

You talked and laughed, told hunting stories, stories about Bobby and talked about your childhoods. When you were done for the night Sam asked if you wanted to stay with them at their “bunker” for a couple of nights. You froze. You didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t go get your stuff because you normally fly back to Italy every night and stay there. It would be suspicious if you didn’t have stuff in a motel room. You could tell them a random hotel. You could tell them to stay in the car, go inside, then quickly fly home to get a duffell full of clothes. The perks of being a nephilim.

You accepted their offer. Your plan went exactly as you hoped it would. Walking back to their Impala you suddenly thought that this wasn't a very good idea. You would be staying with hunters. Hunters that wouldn't think twice about killing you if they knew what you were. It’ll be fine. They’ll never know. You’ll finally have someone that you can trust. A family. The idea was ludicrous, you were going to have a family. The unholy mistake that had been on the run her whole life was going to have a family again. You were ecstatic. You basically skipped to the car.

Opening to door the boys gave you a questioning look. “Someone looks happy.” Sam commented. “Well I should be. I haven't stayed anywhere but nasty motel rooms for the past couple of weeks.” That was a flat out lie. You’d been staying at your house in Italy at night. You felt guilty lying to the people who were taking you in, but you had no other choice.

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