I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader]

Tether

After a long day of driving, I couldn't wait to throw myself onto an uncomfortable motel bed. Just the thought of finally having enough space made me forget the discomfort for a brief moment in time. Perhaps if I had been allowed to shift I wouldn't be so cranky, but Dean's 'no-fur' policy had to be followed if I wanted to continue working with the Winchesters. Sitting in the back seat, buckled in and unable to stretch out was a nightmare when I was so used to traveling my foot.

I stretched on the bed as soon as I dropped down, haphazardly tossing my bags on the floor. I arched my back and yawned, popping my tender back. My stomach growled as my eyelids dropped.. "So what the hell are we supposed to be investigating in Minnesota?" I slurred sleepily.

Said Winchester glanced sideways at me, lips pursed and clearly unamused. "I thought we went over that during the drive," he grumbled with a single raised, unimpressed brow.

"So sorry, I was busy trying not to shred your upholstery," I rolled onto my stomach and glared at him, resting my chin on the back of my hands that laid flat against the bed. "You should be thanking me."

He scoffed. "If you did that, I would have shot you. No one touches Baby."

"Aww, you're a mechanophiliac. I bet she likes it in the tailpipe, huh?" He scoffed again and nearly choked on his beer. "When's Sam coming back with the food?" I whined.

"Soon, I hope, if it'll make your whiny ass shut up."

I huffed and sat up. "Explain to me again why we're here," I said. He glared my way and I flashed him a cheesy smile.

He turned back to his laptop before answering. "There've been a string of disappearances here, dating back... well, the list seems to be never-ending." He gestured frustratedly towards his computer screen and leaned back in his chair. "Last guy to disappear was a guy by the name of Alvin Jenkins," he said the man's name in an almost mocking tone. "Some kid was the last one to see him in a parking lot next to the kid's house."

"What'd the kid see?"

"That's what we're going to find out-" he lifted a finger into the air pointedly, "- after lunch."

I nearly yipped in delight.

—

The boy wasn't much help. All he had seen was Jenkins stumbling drunkenly towards his car, and the next he was gone with a loud crash. Kid couldn't even give a decent description of Jenkins' car, and now that was missing too.

I was never a fan of bars - too many smells, too many gross old men, and way too many people. But, bars seemed to be one of the boys' favorite hangouts, and at this point, I wasn't going to turn down a beer. It had been a long day, full of irritation, and I really didn't mind the burning sensation of alcohol slipping down my throat anymore.

"Police have not ruled out foul play," Sam stated, reading over a police report. I took another swig of my beer, watching Dean throw darts haphazardly at a board. "Apparently there were signs of a struggle." He looked up at his brother and Dean turned back to him with a shrug.

"You know they could be right, could just be a kidnapping," he said, gesturing to the police report as he referenced the investigators.

I chuckled. "Better hope it's not, or we'd have spent all that gas money getting here for nothing."

"Still one monster here we could hunt, Sparky," Dean teased, "And you bet your ass you're pitching in on the gas money." I snorted in response and he tossed another dart. "Maybe this isn't our kind of gig, Sammy," he continued.

"Yeah, maybe not," replied Sam, sounding disgruntled, "Except for this," he continued, pointing at a notebook. I knew it to be their father's old journal, though I had only seen it on a few occasions. I leaned against Sam's shoulder and read the page. "Dad marked the area, Dean. Possible hunting grounds and a phantom attacker."