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[rusty-tetanus-nail]

[Gunshots] Through Your Heart

a The C*W Sniper x Reader fanfic

The story of how You finding your One True Love finally released the Jackles Tapes™.

Author’s Note: If you actually read this fic, I will judge you.

It's the first non-virtual con since the finale and you've paid half a month’s rent to see the monkeys on stage awkwardly talk their way out of giving the gays what they really want. You've long since lost hope of anyone so much as acknowledging Cas' confession, but as long as Jensen keeps his sexy silence intact you're at peace with that. 

The fandom knows what's up anyway, even if the C*W tries to silence everyone involved with the show. You chuckle, remembering that one time when you opened tumblr and everyone was talking in riddles about [gunshots]. It took you at least an hour to figure out where that particular meme came from, but that's just season 16 for you. The confusion is half the fun. Of course the fandom would come up with the most ridiculous explanations as to why the cast and crew aren't allowed to validate Hellers, instead of just facing the reality that they all don't get it and have wrong opinions about things.

You open yet another nondescript brownish looking door, trying to find your way back to the panel hall. Whoever thought colour coding every single signpost and door instead of just using letters and arrows to point the way deserves to be fired. 

You take a deep breath to calm down and look at your phone.

"Fuck!" You curse out loud. You're so late. The main panel has already started and you're still utterly lost with no one nearby to ask for directions.

...not that you would ask for directions. You shudder. Egh people. 

You hear a faint cheering coming from behind the dark wooden door at the end of the deserted corridor. Bingo!

You run across the hallway, so ready to see the convention madness for yourself and open the door with a grin.

Instantly, the cheering grows louder and then subsides, leaving room for someone to speak. You look around confused. You can hear the panel just fine, but you’re not in the main hall.

Cautiously, you take a step forward. No that's not quite right. You are in the right room, but in the wrong place. Instead of being on the ground floor looking up at the actors on the stage, you’re on a balcony of sorts, hidden away near the ceiling. From here you can see everything. The whole crowd of fans, the stage. It's not the first row seat that you paid the other half of this month’s rent for, but it’s a nice view nevertheless and feels far less claustrophobic than downstairs with all the people around you doing their best to give you a headache. Maybe you'll just stay here and enjoy the rest of the show. No point in missing more of it than you already have.

You lean against the railing and watch as a staff member gives the microphone to a nervous looking fan. You cross your fingers, silently cheering them on, hoping they'll get through this in one piece.

The fan starts to talk and from the corner of your eyes you see something move. Startled, you stumble forward over the railing and for a moment you're certain that this is how you die.

A hand grips you tight by your several layers of flannel and pulls you back onto the floor of the balcony saving you from certain death.

You look up in a daze and see the silhouette of your saviour illuminated by the ceiling lights standing over you holding a sniper rifle. Somewhere in the distance you hear the fan continue their question ignorant of your almost death.

Your saviour moves with practiced ease back to the railing and aims their weapon at the people below. 

Shit. This can’t be happening. You try to get up and stop them from whatever they're about to do, but when you reach the figure and grab their wrist it's already too late.

"So about the Cartwright Twi-" [gunshots]

The fan falls to their knees and is carried off as someone on stage lets out an uncomfortable laugh and makes a joke about fainting. You watch the proceedings in shock, still gripping the sniper's wrist.

"What did you do?" You bite out, more harshly than you intended. In the back of your mind you know you should probably run away instead of arguing with the assassin, but there’s just something about them that makes you feel safe and unthreatened.

"My job." A gruff voice replies and as they turn you finally catch a first proper glimpse at the sniper's face. You let go of them almost immediately.

Oh no. They're hot.

The sniper pulls their wrist close to their chest and strokes the parts of their skin that your hand previously occupied. And odd knot forms in your stomach. You take a step closer and they shift away unused to the presence of another person.

You try to reach out again, but think better of it. You don’t want to scare the beautiful person in front of you. Your hand falls down limply to your side and the sniper follows your movements with their eyes still refusing to look directly at you.

You open your mouth to ask who they are, but you get interrupted when Jensen starts speaking. Instantaneously the sniper is all business again, aims their rifle and-

“Actually I think Dean is b-” [gunshots]

Jensen bends over and starts coughing violently, his sentence hanging forever unsaid in the room.

The sniper lowers their gun and looks emotionlessly at the scene they just caused.

“You’re-” You start, but the sniper holds up their hand to stop you.

“Don’t. Just go and pretend you never saw anything or I’ll shoot you as well.”

You shake your head.

“No. I don’t think you will.” Taking a chance you close the distance between the both of you and take the sniper’s free hand, intertwining your fingers with theirs. Their breath hitches as you touch them and they lower their eyes, but don’t move away. You take it as a good sign.

“You’re the C*W Sniper, aren’t you?” You whisper astonished. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

A fan with a faintly Spanish sounding accent is given the microphone. With their free hand the sniper reaches down and pulls out a gun from their thigh holster and- [gunshots]

What was once an almost unnoticeable accent is now unrecognizable word salad. Everyone laughs and writes the incident off as the fan simply being nervous. You frown.

“This isn’t right.”

“They’ll be able to speak again in a couple of minutes.”

You tighten your fingers around the snipers hand and try to unsuccessfully catch their eyes.

“Still doesn’t make it right. You didn’t even know if they’d mention anything about-”

The sniper aims their gun at you.

“I have my orders.”

Your eyes finally meet for the first time and the previous argument is forgotten as the world around you bursts into vibrant colours. 

“What the f-”

This isn’t possible. You’ve always been severely colour blind. People don’t just randomly heal from that. You shouldn’t be seeing any of this.

The sniper's cold eyes grow warm and mirror your own in wonderment. They look around before settling their eyes back on you and a soft “oh” escapes their lips.

“You’re my soulmate.” Their rough voice takes on a heart wrenching tone and you shake your head disbelievingly.

“No. Soulmates aren’t real. They were made up for fanfics.”

“That’s what the CW wants you to think.” The sniper says with a sad smile and breaks eye contact again. “The CW’s reach and power is far greater than anything you could possibly imagine.”

You cup the sniper’s face with your free hand and softly stroke their cheek with your thumb, almost entranced at the new connection you made with the not quite stranger in front of you. The sniper closes their eyes and leans into your touch. Your heart starts pounding and you wish for the moment to never end.

“You should leave.”

“Not without you.” You reply not missing a beat, trying not to get distracted by the sniper’s full lips and delicate features contrasting their hard battleworn exterior.

“I’m not safe to be around. I’ve hurt people.” The sniper turns around and lets go of your hand, but you hold on tight, too scared they’ll disappear as suddenly as they entered your life. Clutching their hand tightly, you pull them close and swirl them around forcing them to face you.

“I don’t care.” You say resolutely. “Whatever hold the C*W has on you, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The sniper shakes their head and looks frantically over to the stage where Jensen is about to give his phone to a staff member.

“I- I can’t. I have to- I have nothing else but this.” They aim their gun at the stage, but you gently push their raised arm down. Your sniper doesn’t resist, but their hands are trembling. They’re scared, you realise. They’re scared and they need you.

“You have me. Please, I promise. Everything will be alright. Let me take care of you.”

The gun falls to the ground and the sniper lets themself be enveloped into your embrace. You hold them tightly as they fall apart in your arms and wait patiently until they stop shaking all the while whispering sweet reassurances into their ear.

“It won’t be easy.” They mumble against your shoulder and straighten up to look into your eyes. “The C*W will want to eliminate us. I’m not their only assassin.”

“Let them come. We’ll make them regret ever messing with us.” You say with a wicked grin and your sniper grins back with tears in their eyes.

You throw your arms over your snipers shoulders and lean your forehead against theirs.

“I’d really like to kiss you now.”

“Yes please.” The sniper says, almost breathlessly and you capture your soulmate’s lips for the first time. 

Fireworks explode in your soul and the crowd cheers as the Jackles Tapes are finally released and played on the big screen behind Jensen and Misha, who take the opportunity to ask every minor to leave the room as they’re about to reenact the secret good ending of Supernatural.