I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Tomorrow

I glowered at the Winchester's from my place on Sam's bed in their dusty motel room, legs crossed and fingers drumming irritably against my thigh. I huffed loudly, catching Sam's attention. He glanced at me from his position by the desk in the corner of the room. The barrel of a sawed-off shotgun poked out of the duffel bag he was filling.

He laughed softly and followed my gaze, turning his attention back to the bag. "Not everyone can fight with literal tooth and nail in a fight."

I collapsed backwards on the bed, splaying my arms out by my sides, and flexed them. The only thing left from my fading bullet wound was a scab. Truthfully, I wished it would heal immediately – this fight was not going to be an easy one, and the brothers would need all the help they could get.

I huffed and folded my arms over my chest, glaring up at the ceiling. I hated fighting. Sure, I was used to it – my uncle had taught me how to fight and I had been on several hunts with him – but that didn't mean I liked it. I hated having to kill something other than animals – even then, I did not enjoy it. I simply did it because I needed to survive. The kind of food humans ate would tide me over, but it wasn't enough to satiate my hunger.

"I could always bite you," I offered playfully, redirecting my attention away from my thoughts and back towards Sam. "Then you could fight 'tooth and nail'." I sat up, resting my weight on my elbows. I liked him – he was smart, and to my surprise he didn't blink twice about my situation. The fact that I was a monster meant nothing to him.

"No thanks. I'd prefer to not shed constantly," he joked, a smirk adorning his lips. I scoffed and glared, too which he laughed at. "Just a personal preference."

The door to the motel room burst open and I bounced on the bed, yelping at the sudden noise. Dean waltzed into the room, a smug grin on his lips as he dumped a mess of silver weapons on the bed beside me. I flinched and glared at the damn weapons that could easily kill me.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, a comical tone to his voice.

"No, you're not," I growled and shuffled away from the mess of silver. Invulnerability created a sort of superiority complex in most monsters. We were likely to be more reckless, knowing few things could kill us. Seeing one of those few things beside me was not something I relished.

"You're right, I'm not," Dean teased with a click of his tongue and a playful grin. He grabbed a pistol and a rag and wiped off the barrel.

"Go suck a dick, Winchester," I grumbled crassly. The silver had certainly put me in a bad mood, making this approaching fight seem more real, more solid. I rolled off the bed and moved to the other side to help him organize. Dean only smiled at my comment, eyes never leaving his silver and white gun. "When are we planning on attacking these mutts?" I questioned.

I was eager to get rid of Chikaltio and his rag-tag pack. Seven months of that bastard harassing me and threatening my life was enough for me. I was so tired of it. Tired of not being able to go into town and buy my groceries without being snarled at. Tired of not being safe in my own home.

I didn't want to fight him. I hated the idea of challenging him, of potentially killing him – I didn't want to take over his pack, and I certainly didn't want to be responsible for another living being's death. I had caused enough death in the past.

"Probably tomorrow," Sam said, checking his watch. My ears pricked, rejoining the conversation after being lost in thought. "It's already late, they'd have the drop on us at night."

"Not if you mask your scent," I suggested, just wanting the fight to be over. I wanted my life back,

"We wouldn't be able to see them," argued Dean. "We don't have night vision, like you."