Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the bunker, you turn your head to the left, then to the right, trying to catch every angle of your new haircut. Your fingers reach up and tussle the strands. It was a pixie cut; your first pixie cut ever. And although you loved it, really you did, you were nervous. Your face, with not a single bit of makeup on it, looked almost boyish beneath the cut, not the mention the fact that your hips were so straight, your chest so flat, that you looked like a boy in that aspect to. The longer you stood in front of the mirror, the more you began to panic.

You thought cutting your shoulder length hair would be a great new start. You were leaving the life of a college girl, and beginning the life of a woman hunter. You were leaving a life of security and scheduling for a life of spontaneity. You were trading your female roommate for three men, one of which wasn't even human, adorable, but definitely not human. You were trading being the driver for riding in the backseat, not even shotgun, but backseat. And now you were trading your femininity for…masculinity? Oh Merlin's beard, you looked like a man. Panic filled your eyes, and your heart leapt in over drive when you heard the door to the bunker opening, Sam and Dean arguing like normal while Castiel mentioned that he didn't get a reference to pop culture. Typical.

They couldn't see you like this. All…manish. Opening the bathroom door and turning the light off, you ran across the hall to your room in the dark, shutting the door as quietly as possible, before diving under the covers and pulling the blankets over your head. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep, they'd leave you alone until you could figure out what to do about your stupid hair. You shouldn't have cut it off. Where was Charlie? She'd know what to say. Squeezing your eyes shut, you held your breath when you heard footsteps outside your door. There was a gentle knock, and then Sam poked his head in your room.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" he asked softly.

Keeping your eyes closed and your breath held, you didn't answer. Then there was another set of footsteps, and your door was pushed open widely by Dean who announced happily, "Y/N! We bought pie!"

Still nothing. You weren't going to say a single word until you figured out how you were going to tell them that you cut off all of your hair. Some part of you could hear them talking, trying to wake you up, but you were so caught up in your own thoughts, you blocked it out. What if they hated it? What if they looked at it and laughed and told you that you looked like a man? For some unexplained reason, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes, stinging. There was a lump in your throat, and there was an elephant sitting on your chest. Oh shit, they were going to hate it.

And then you heard Castiel's voice.

"She's worried that we will hate her haircut, and is pretending to be asleep so we don't make fun of it."

Damn Cas and his stupid mindreading capabilities. Damn Cas and the fact that he just shared your current biggest fears with the people you were most worried about finding out. Damn it, Castiel. Mind read that.

"Oh. Now she's mad."

"Y/N?" Sam started quietly, "Why don't you just show us? We won't laugh. Right Dean?"

"Speak for yourself, Sammy. If it looks like-"

"Shut up. We won't laugh."

For a moment, you didn't move, and then out of nowhere, your body took over and you sat up suddenly, pulling the blankets off.

"Fine! There. Look at it and laugh! I look so stupid," Dropping your head in your hands, you brush away angry tears, "I know I look like a boy, you don't have to tell me that, okay? I was just trying to make it easier for hunting and to turn over and new leaf and now I look like this and I don't need your opinions, so you all can just go away."

Looks were exchanged between the three, before a slow smile spread across each face.

"Y/N," Dean said carefully, "You don't look like a boy. It looks good. You look…older."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, sitting on the end of your bed. "Your eyes look huge, which isn't a bad thing. Trust me."

"And your face looks nice," Castiel said seriously.

Leave it to Castiel to be as vague as possible. But for whatever reason, it worked. A hesitant smile worked its way across your lips. So they didn't hate it. At least, not enough to say so, which was saying something considering Winchesters always spoke their minds. "You really don't hate it?"

"We really don't hate it," Dean confirmed with a lopsided grin. "Now can we please have some pie?"