Crunch Time

“Damn,” you say when you see the missed calls from work on your phone. You no-showed, and they don’t tolerate that very well. It’s really not important right now, though, so you scroll through your pictures until you find the one you want. You hand your phone to Sam.

“When did this happen?” he asks you, swiping between the photos you took of the trunk of your car before you had it repainted.

“Uh... on my way home from the library. It - It was the night you saved my butt on the stairs.” You blush even as your hand stings. You’ve already soaked through the paper towels Sam gave you to press on it.

Sam nods. “Right,” he says, and you swear you see a little smile trying to show itself. “Listen, we need to get you out of here. Get you somewhere safe. We need to figure this out.”

Your body suddenly rakes with shivers. Where did this blast of cold air come from? You start to breathe faster as you look to Sam.

Sam’s on his feet with a gun in his hands, bracing for something. “Dean!” he calls out, and his urgency only frightens you more.

Dean and Jonah burst into the room. “That figures,” Dean grunts as the lights flicker. “Wait, what?” The brothers eye everything like hawks.

And just like that, the cold is gone and the flickering stops.

Sam convinces the nurses to release you into his care. No one questions the badges. There are other patients in the E.R. who are far worse off than you to keep the hospital staff busy anyway.

Dean doesn’t look happy with you. You have no idea why. You haven’t done anything wrong. Why is he making you feel like you should feel guilty about something?

You’re wearing Jonah’s spare basketball shorts, the pair he keeps in the trunk of his car. You made him throw your jeans away. Burning them wouldn’t get rid of what they soaked up on that bathroom floor.

You want a shower worse than anything you’ve ever wanted before. Maybe a wire scrub brush, too.

“Get in the car,” Dean grunts as Sam walks you toward an older, black car.

“Wait,” Jonah says. “[Y/N], are you sure? We don’t know these guys... Maybe just meet them tomorrow? This isn’t a good idea.”

“Look, skipper,” Dean says, leaning on the roof on the driver’s side. “There are things in this world lurking in the shadows that you don’t want to know about. Trust me. If she doesn’t come with us, now, she won’t have a tomorrow to wake up to.”

You gulp.

Jonah grabs your hand. “She’s not going anywhere without me.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Sam,” he seethes.

Sam says, “Look, Jonah? It’s Jonah, right? Here.” He pulls another business card from the wallet in his pocket and scribbles on the back of it. “This is the motel we’re at. That’s the room, that’s the number. I’ll make sure she checks in with you in the morning and if she doesn’t, come find us. Just trust me, you don’t want to get any deeper into this. Just let us help [Y/N] get this thing off her trail and you’ll have her back, safe and sound. But right now, we’re her best shot.”

Jonah turns to you. “[Y/N] -”

You cut him off. “It’s okay,” you tell him. And you believe it. As long as you stick by Sam and keep out of Dean’s way, you’ll be fine. Sam’s already saved your butt once before. You hope he’ll do it again.

Jonah looks at the guys once more before huffing. “Call me when you get there. And in the morning when you wake up. And-”

“Get her in the car, Sam,” Dean says as he disappears and slams the door shut.

You grip your phone as you give Jonah a quick hug. He’s such a good friend.

The backseat of Dean’s car feels safe. Maybe it’s because it only has two doors, so whatever is after you would have to get through Sam and Dean, first. If it even uses doors... You better not try to think about it too hard.

You’re cold. Not as cold as that wicked shiver in the hospital that freaked Sam out, but chilly. And tired. But every time you close your eyes, you see the professor’s lifeless eyes glaring at you, perched in that unnatural position on the toilet with a gaping hole in his chest, and blood seeping everywhere.

Sleep isn’t going to happen anytime soon.

“It doesn’t make sense, Sam,” Dean says to his brother as the engine purrs to life. You fasten your seatbelt. Dean seems like the kind of guy who likes to take turns a little fast. “Missing heart means werewolf. But nothing else points to that.”

Sam is scrolling through some website on his phone. “I know. God, I wish Bobby were here.” He scrolls a little more as you sit quietly in the back, soaking everything in, wondering who and where Bobby is. “Lights flickering like demons, but temp drop like ghosts.”

“Maybe it’s a party.”

“Not funny, Dean.”

Dean chuckles. “No sulfur at the scene. Zilch. Sam, this is something new. Or someone.” You catch his quick glance at you through the rearview mirror.

Sam shakes his head. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re wrong.”

You cross your arms and hunker down in the seat. Thank God at least one of them is friendly.

“[Y/N], is there anything else you remember about the night these initials showed up on your car?” Sam asks you, turning around. “Cold spots like tonight? Flickering lights? Anything?”

You think. “No,” you say. “Nothing like that. But...”

“What?” Dean says.

“My car spun out like I hit a patch of ice.”

“So? You probably did,” Dean says.

Sam’s staring at you with a crinkle in his forehead. “No, Dean. It was too warm for ice that night.”

Your heart flutters. Sam remembers the last time you met more clearly than you thought he did.

You clear your throat. “Initials?”

Dean shoots a look of annoyance at his brother.

Sam gives you a small smile. “Dean and Sam Winchester.”