#rip Jack he uh....he’s getting ate and while he ain’t gonna die

[thefanciestborrower]

Sometimes, Jack just has really bad luck

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Dazed and Confused (Part 3)

Summary: Dean Winchester grew up wanting to be a cop. When he gets kicked out of the police academy on a fluke though, he turns to a life of crime. After breaking up with Dean and seeing him committing a crime in the act, the reader becomes an officer herself and eventually a detective. Four years after that day, the reader is sent undercover to figure out what Dean is up to. Only she has no idea how far Dean is willing to go to keep her from finding out the truth…

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 3,400ish

Warnings: language, scary situations, violence, murder, etc.

A/N: This series has been on Ao3 only for awhile now and I am finally reposting here as well. It’s not new but it may be new to you. Please enjoy!...

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You kept your mouth shut as Sam dumped Dean in the backseat of his car. You kept it shut as Sam drove the three of you out of town to one of the nearby farms. You kept it shut as Sam pulled inside one of the rundown and abandoned places, grabbed Dean and put him down on top of a stray bale of hay.

But when Sam pulled out a pair of zip ties from his back pocket, you shoved him away from his brother.

“What the hell are those for?” you growled, standing in front of Dean, Sam sighing and running his hand through his hair.

“It’s for our protection more than anything else,” said Sam. “He’s going to be swinging fists the second he wakes up.”

“And if he wakes up after his little brother just knocked him out and tied him up, how good a mood do you think he’ll be in?” you asked, Sam’s face scrunching up before he purses his lips.

“Okay. I know you’re pissed off but-”

“I spent four years pissed at him, Sam. I turned to you to help me through it. You’d be a little pissed too if you found out the one guy you thought you could trust turned out to be lying to you for who knows how long,” you said, shoving on him again when he took a step forward. “Stay away from him, Sam.”

“Y/N, this isn’t…” said Sam, his eyes wandering behind you, Dean grunting to himself as he woke up. You turned around and found him sitting up with his hand on his head, blinking at Sam and rubbing a hand over his face.

“Great. You’re hallucinating, Winchester,” he said, shaking his head, catching your worried stare.

“Dean,” said Sam with a neutral face, your eyes drifting to Dean’s hand, clenched up in a fist. “Sorry about the head.”

“What’s going on?” asked Dean, looking around, something extremely small and vulnerable showing on his face. You wondered when the last time he was in the dark on something was. “Sammy before I-“

“Always had to shoot first, ask questions later, didn’t you Dean?” said Sam, leaning up on a hay bale not too far off. Dean squinted at him, mouth open and closing a few times, pressing his lips into a thin line after a moment. “You forget how to think on your own after all these years?”

“Fuck you,” said Dean, staring at his lap, closing his eyes. “My head is killing me and Y/N looks as confused as I feel so would you please , Sam, explain what is happening?”

“Spark Notes version? Y/N called me after the bank incident. I got even more pissed and thought I’m going to shove it to you so hard. I thought something snapped in you and what better way to track you down than to be in law enforcement myself. I applied FBI, took a test, did an interview and they asked if I wanted to do internal investigations. I’m too nice for field work they said. It was fine with me and gave me access to shit even you don’t have, Dean. Two weeks in, I dug at your ‘arrest record’ and lo and behold, you’re a fucking FBI agent too. I mean, I was thrilled but then I wondered what case you were working that you were doing bank heists and stuff like that. Your team told you that you were building up your profile so you could get in with mom’s killer, right? Be like him and he’d come to you, take you under his wing, right? Well, that’s your story. Mine is different. Mom’s killer is on your team. He’s grooming you to take the fall, to show a pattern of committing crime and rip your story to shreds that you were ordered to do it. He’s going to pin it on you and you’d never even realize it,” said Sam, Dean blinking up at him. “The really short version? You work for the FBI. Someone told you a lie to get you to do shit that would make you look guilty. You fell for it. I’m trying to save your ass and on top of all that, you just dragged Y/N into this for no damn reason.”

“But you go to law school,” you said. “You take classes. You do homework. I’ve seen you working on projects and crap.”

“It’s my cover, Y/N,” said Sam, frowning when you glared at him. “Y/N…”

“Both of you...I should…” you said, storming around the barn, hands in your hair, turning around to face them with a snarl. “I hate you both so fucking much.”

You marched over, slapping Sam in the face, Dean closing his eyes while he waited for his turn.

“I think you’re off the hook,” said Sam, rubbing his cheek as you pointed at Dean.

“He has a concussion. He might have lied but he didn’t do it to my face and pretend to care and be pissed and have nightmares and-”

“Y/N, I didn’t lie about that,” said Sam. “I knew Dean only said mom’s death was my fault for his cover after a couple of months but it still messed me up. It still hurts.”

“She wasn’t, Sammy,” said Dean, gulping from his seat. “She really wasn’t. Y/N...when you were younger, that wasn’t your fault either.”

“You said if I had gone straight home after school, I would have been able to protect her, Dean,” said Sam, shrugging his shoulders. “I would have...maybe I could have-“

“You were a shrimpy ten year old Sam. No way you would have been able to stop him. You would have wound up like her,” said Dean.

“I always thought that was the point. You’d rather I had ended up like that,” said Sam.

“No Sam, never,” said Dean, his face losing its hardness, soft eyes looking over at his little brother.  “My whole life I’ve tried to protect you. I said that to screw with your head. It worked. Too well but it worked. Protecting mom was not your responsibility.”

“Finding her killer wasn’t yours, either,” said Sam, Dean staring at his lap quietly for a few moments.

“After I went off the radar, started doing stuff, how was dad?” asked Dean, fidgeting on the hay.

“I was at school at first and then went straight to training and work. I haven’t lived in that house in a long time,” said Sam, kicking at the ground. “He wasn’t too bad I guess. I kept away for the most part.”

“Y/N take care of you?” asked Dean, Sam nodding his head once.

“I crashed at her place for a while,” said Sam, kicking at the ground.

“Is your bro makeup moment over? Cause in case you two don’t realize , something bigger than your little boy issues is going on,” you said, Dean whipping his head around to Sam. You knew you’d be angry but you didn’t realize quite how much until just now.

“Y/N, maybe if you just relax-”

“I don’t want to relax, Sam,” you said, pulling your gun out of your pants, aiming it at the ground. “I want…”

“She wasn’t this pissed earlier,” said Dean, Sam carefully taking a step over.

“Why don’t you put that down, Y/N and we-”

“No! I’m tired of you stupid Winchesters screwing up my life,” you said, rage rushing through you, hand fiddling with the safety. “It’s stopping. Tonight.”

“Y/N,” said Sam, quickly rushing over and snatching the gun from your hands. “What is…”

“Give that back, Samuel,” you said, hitting him in the groin, Sam doubling over as Dean caught your arm. “Back off!”

“You need to calm...she doesn’t do drugs, does she?” asked Dean, Sam’s head shaking. “Why are her pupils fucking huge then Sam?”

“I am not on drugs!” you shouted at him, Dean grabbing hold of both of your wrists, your blood boiling as you squirmed against his hold. “Let go, Dean!”

“I brought her these pastries earlier. It’s the only thing we didn’t both eat tonight. They were at my apartment before I went over to her place,” said Sam, getting back to his feet just in time for you to kick again.

“I’m pretty sure she’s drugged, Sam! This ain’t exactly normal,” said Dean as you ripped away from him. “Something pretty intense too.”

“I said to leave me…” you said, your pounding heart skipping a beat. “Leave me…” you said, the words catching on your throat.

“Sam, if whoever messed with the desserts put enough in their to take care of you… ” said Dean, sliding his arms under you as you started to fall.

“It’s more than enough to kill her. I need to get her to a hospital,” said Sam, Dean shoving you in Sam’s arms. “Dean.”

“Your cover is broken. Maybe mine isn’t yet. Besides, I’m a wanted criminal. Take her, get her fixed and I’ll find a way to contact you,” said Dean, shoving the two of you towards the front of the barn. “Go!”

“You’re gonna be alright, Y/N,” said Sam as you started to squirm in his arms, everything aching and pulsing. “You’ll be alright.”

Three Days Later

“Y/L/N,” you heard as you ate your jello from your hospital bed, Jack raising an eyebrow at you. “How’s detox going?”

“Uh, shitty,” you said with a smile. “No heart damage thankfully. They were worried about that. I get to go home soon if my tests come back good.”

“My mentor can’t die. It’s kind of against the rules,” said Jack, grabbing a chair and taking a seat next to your bed. “I’d have to have Bobby be it.”

“I wouldn’t put that pain on you, Jack,” you said with a smile.

“As your friend, I have to ask...” said Jack, pursing his lips.

“I had a bad day and the department thinks I took the drugs myself?” you asked, Jack staying motionless. “I didn’t do this to myself, Jack. Somebody...I don’t know what happened but I did not do this.”

“I know,” said Jack, grabbing you unopened Jello pack. “Just tagging on you like a good friend.”

“Rookie…” you scowled, Jack simply ripping the lid off and sliding it back to you. “Good boy.”

“I know,” he said with a smirk.

“Shut up,” you said, shoving on his shoulder, spotting Sam poke his head in your room. “Hey. What’s up, Sammy?”

“Just checking on you,” said Sam, biting his bottom lip. “Jack, you keeping her company?”

“Uh huh,” said Jack, looking back over his shoulder. “Hey Sam. You’re the one that found Y/N, right?"

“Yeah,” said Sam, Jack cocking his head.

“Why’d she have her coat and shoes on?” asked Jack. “It was the middle of the night.”

“She probably went to go get help. I heard her leave. Or her head was so messed up cause of the drugs she didn’t realize what she was doing and walked right past me,” said Sam, Jack nodding his head. “I bet you’re sticking to home cooked meals for a while, aren’t you kiddo?”

“Yeah,” you said, Jack standing up with a stretch. “Leaving already?”

“I’m on duty,” said Jack, fixing his uniform back into place. “Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing. I’ll leave you in Sam’s hands.”

“Jack,” you said giving him a smile. “Thank you for believing me.”

“Get some rest while we figure out who did that to you,” said Jack, squeezing your hand. “Later Sam.”

“Jack,” said Sam, waiting until he was gone to shut the door. “How you feeling today?”

“Alright,” you said, Sam sitting down with a sigh. “Sorry about trying to beat the shit out of you. And shoot you guys.”

“You weren’t yourself,” said Sam with a grin. “I heard from Dean. Well...more like I got a cryptic text from him.”

“Let’s see it,” you said, Sam sliding his phone over.

Ear Heart. K. Metal. Turnpike. 1. Sunrise. +1.

“He heard my heart was okay. He wants to meet at the old metal sheet factory off the turnpike at 1am. The plus one means bring me along,” you said.

“Really?” asked Sam, watching you bite your bottom lip.

“He used to pass me notes in Chem lab sophomore year. You couldn’t use your phone or anything in there so he used to send them in code to be a smartass. Some of them were pretty hard to figure out,” you said, shrugging your shoulder.

“You up for getting discharged today?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. Let me get a nap in and then you can bust me out of this place.”

12:53 am

You woke up in the passenger seat, Sam quietly listening to the radio. It was dark at the entrance to the factory, no lights on at the abandoned facility.

“How’s he want us to find him? This place is huge,” said Sam.

“Mr. FBI can’t figure out the obvious?” you asked, pointing at the map by the front entrance spray painted with a big red arrow.

“Hey, I worked at a desk in my apartment. I’m not used to this like you,” said Sam.

“Yes, because I’m an expert on secret government operations. All those parking tickets and noise complaints I spend 99% of my time on really prepare you for this kind of thing,” you said.

“What’s the other one percent?” asked Sam.

“Drunk and disorderly. Lawrence ain’t that exciting Sammy,” you said, Sam getting the hang of following the arrows deeper into the complex.

“I know. I mean now it is. Just…you know...” said Sam, giving you a sideways glance.

“You be the brains and I’ll be the muscle,” you said, patting your thigh holster. “Nothing’s going to happen to you Sam.”

“I’m not scared,” said Sam with that same tone as when you and Dean watched The Strangers with him one night years ago. “I’m not!”

“Well, I am,” you said as you came to the last of the arrows. “Fear isn’t a bad thing. Don’t let it cripple you is all.”

“Who taught you that? Bobby?” asked Sam.

“Dean. He was trying to get me to kill a spider in the bathroom once,” you said with a smile, hopping out of the car.

“Did it work?” he asked.

“Nope. I thought it was still sweet,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes.

“Let’s go see what Dean found out,” said Sam as he followed after.

You took the lead inside, Sam sticking close by as you attempted to get your bearings. The place was huge with far too many angles to even attempt to cover. You dug your flashlight out, looking around for any sign of Dean.

A whistle caught your attention, following it to the left down a hall, poking your head in what used to be a conference room, Dean giving you a wave in the dimly lit room.

“Hi guys,” said Dean, Sam peering over top of you to spot a computer on the table.

“Dean,” said Sam, Dean’s gaze landing on you.

“You alright?” he asked. You shrugged and took a seat, Dean seeming to understand forgiveness was something that would take a long time, if it even happened.

“You figure out who tried to kill me?” asked Sam, your head cocking. That’s why he’d been so nervous. Whoever drugged you hadn’t intended to kill you. It was meant for Sam.

“Concretely, no. But my best guess is our friend at the FBI. They must know you work for them too. If it had worked it would have taken you out and I’m still the fall guy who just thinks his little brother overdosed until it got pinned on me. I need to know your team, Sam. Who do you work with, who knows you’re working this case? Tell me everything,” said Dean, tapping his fingers against the file.

“I can’t tell you that,” said Sam, Dean nodding his head with a scoff.

“Y/N almost died , Sam. I don’t care about your policy and protocol bullshit. I need to know about your team,” growled Dean, clenching his fist.

“I can’t tell you that because I only know one guy ,” said Sam. “My handler. I don’t know other investigators unless it’s a large case which this one isn’t.”

“Then tell me about him, your handler,” said Dean, taking a deep breath.

“His name is Cas. I don’t know if it’s his first or last. He sits in DC behind a desk. He’s kind of weird but not crazy weird,” said Sam.

“Tell me everything you know about this guy. Everything.”

Two hours later you had your head resting on your arms, sleepy eyes watching the boys bicker back and forth over bits of information about Cas. He had a clean record, two pet guinea pigs and a on and off girlfriend named Meg for the past nine years. He seemed like any other guy with a desk job to you.

“Maybe we should see who Cas reports to,” you mumbled, yawning loudly in the next beat. “Cas doesn’t know anybody on your team, Dean. Maybe his boss does.”

“Sam doesn’t know Cas’ boss, Y/N,” said Dean.

“Well, I thought you could hack into anything you wanted. Cas is Sam’s boss. They work in the same department so they have the same HR department code, right? Look up the code and figure out who else has it. Hell, look at an org chart. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out,” you said, scratching your head. “Super secret agents can’t figure out basic business operations.”

“You’re angrier than I remember,” said Dean, Sam stealing Dean’s computer and typing away on it.

“How’s your head feeling?” you asked, Dean shrugging.

“Okay. Mild concussion but-” he said, your palm smacking him across the face.

“Glad to know you’re feeling better. Asshole liar,” you growled at him, shaking your hand out.

“I deserved that,” said Dean, rubbing his cheek.

“Y/N, when you stop hating everyone, you mind reminding me when Jack joined the department?” asked Sam.

“I don’t know. About two years ago I guess,” you said, Sam spinning the laptop around.

“Jack Kline works for the FBI apparently. He’s a field agent,” said Sam, sighing towards Dean. “Under a different boss but same department as me. Internal Investigations.”

“Why would they have two guys investigating the same case? Not to mention keeping you in the dark about each other,” you said, Dean shaking his head as he stared at the screen. “Or the fact that Jack definitely isn’t a guy who sits behind a desk.”

“Look, Jack has known who Sam is this whole time,” said Dean, pointing out something on the screen. “He’s not in investigations like Sam. I mean he is but he’s a field agent too. Based on the timing of when he’s gotten here, he’s probably been watching Sam for years.”

“What’s that mean?” you asked, Sam running his hands over his face.

“It means we need to talk to Jack about what he’s doing in Lawrence stalking my little brother.”

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A/N: Read Part 4 here!