This whole fic is mainly oneshots prompted by Tumblr and anonymous users onto the Supernatural Imagine blog page. I will direct you to the user SupernaturalImagine at Tumblr for the prompts. In addition to that, I will say that page has become a big help in my coping with stress and writer's block. Great thing to do; oneshots. Never understood them myself until I wrote this one. Hope you all enjoy.
Imagine Sam and Dean finding out you're their little sister
"So you guys haven't seen John in a long time then?"
Sam and Dean sat across from you at a diner. Sam looked at Dean with a sideways expression, recalling the last time someone asked this question. Adam…
"He's away, right now," Sam managed to stutter out.
You glanced down at the old looking leather-bound journal on the table. Dean followed your gaze; his hand landed on the book loudly and he slid it off the table and into his lap.
"Is there something we can do ya for in his place?"
You pursed your lips. You felt these boys knew where he was, and you wanted to know now. "That's his journal. I know you are in contact with him, now where is he?"
With Dean's attempt at a flirtatious approach smacked to the side, he knew this wasn't just wasn't going to go away. "Listen here, lady, I don't take well to threats much like that. You tell us what you want with him, and we can tell you what you need to know."
"Listen to me!" you screamed, standing up, slamming your hands on the table, and forcing it forward with your outburst. Sam coughed out from the sudden pressure, then tried to hide his face when he realized the whole diner now had their eyes on the three of you. Blushing, you fell back into the soft, cushiony booth embarrassed. "I just want to find my father," you said in a sheepish voice.
"Your fucking what?" Dean almost screamed at you.
"Dean, Dean, calm down. _, John is your father?"
You wept silently. "I last saw him when I was little. He took mom out to dinner, and then she came home crying. She told me to never look for him, no matter what. Well, now mom is gone, and I… I just wanted to tell him, at least."
"How old are you?" Dean asked through clenched teeth.
Sam's face tightened when you told them you were the same age as the younger male Winchester. "And your birthday?"
You also repeated the same date as Sam's birth date. "Why am I even telling you guys this? Where is my father?"
Dean flipped open the journal to Sam's birth date. He read over the entry twice, reading about how wonderful it was to have a second son. Underneath the pen looked like other letters pressed hard into the paper, mixed with gray smears. This used to be an entry in pencil, but was erased. Dean could faintly read words about how Mary was pregnant with twins, but they didn't know about it until the actual birth. A common mistake made all those years ago. It continued on to say that Mary freaked out and decided they were only ready for one baby. Mary never looked back, and seemed too in shock to even remember. John recorded it, but apparently erased it.
Sam was starting to see the hidden entry under the pen as he read the paper. Dean could almost swear he heard Sam's heart sink and practically break like his did.
"_..." Dean started to speak, but couldn't get the words to move past your name.
"You're going to tell me where he is?" you asked with hope in your voice. You wiped the tears away from your eyes and looked to the two men.
"Your real name is _ Winchester?" Sam asked with about as much uncertainty."
"I guess so. Mom never told me the story about her and dad, and I assumed they just didn't stay together after she got pregnant, so—"
"You're not aware that you're adopted?" Dean said almost nonchalantly as he slapped the book down on the tabletop. "Read the fine print," he pointed at the page.
Sam watched your face with pity. He watched your face turn white as snow. "I… There… How?" The more you thought about it, adoption seemed to fit your childhood most. You never saw your birth certificate, no pictures of you just born, and no pictures of your mom holding your infant body… Folders of files that mom would never let you see and you still haven't seen them to this day.
"You know what that means?" Dean asked you, breaking you from your thoughts.
You looked up at him, still in shock. You couldn't even find your voice. Dean retrieved his wallet and fished out money for the coffees that were drunk and he leapt up from his seat. He briskly made his way outside, leaving you with Sam.
"Uh, come, with me," he still had uncertainty in his voice as he talked to you. He offered you his hand as help up, but you held on with a tight grip and let him lead you outside. You still felt like you couldn't speak.
Outside, Dean was leaning against the passenger side of the Impala.
"That's dad's car," you finally said as you took in the beautiful black beauty.
Dean nodded. Sam joined his side, leaving you to stand in front of them. The wind felt especially cold now, so you tightened your jacket around you.
"Is my dad okay?"
"What I'm about to tell you is not easy," Dean started and continued, "Sam and I are both Winchesters. I was hoping you could collect that Sammy here is your twin and that then makes me older brother number one. John and Mary is all of our parents, from what I've gathered."
"You're my twin sister. The second baby born," Sam added, a little bit more thrilled by the information, now. "You're our little sister!"
You found Sam looking at you expectantly, like he wanted you to be happy. Dean, on the other hand, looked torn between the excitement and pain that he went without knowing of another sibling. And quite possibly charged with the fact you were in grave danger just by being a Winchester…
You. You just couldn't comprehend it all. It was all laid out in front of you with undeniable proof. John is your real father, your mom always said. She would never deny you to him, ever.
Sam approached you with hesitant open arms. "Come here? It… It's going to be okay…?"
You looked up into Sam's eyes towering way above you. His face mirrored yours—not only in emotions, but in looks as well. Same eyes, facial structure, the same everything. You shivered as his arms wrapped around you, and all you could do was hug him back. It felt right, it felt like hope, like home.
Dean joined you and Sam at your side, and he placed a reassuring hand on your head as Sam held you. "We're all family."
While in Sam's embrace, you turned your head to face Dean and saw the look on his face; the look of slow acceptance. Even the touch from Dean's hand felt safe and sound, like he had always been there. He was your oldest brother—the older brother you wished you'd always had.
You leaned back from Sam's hug, and then took your turn to look at Sam. "And dad?"
Sam's expression fell from elated happiness to uncertain sadness. "Has dad ever told you about the family business?"
Days became weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. You quickly learned about the business, dad's fate, and became so close to your dear brothers. They were all you had left, and they you. You cherished each other so dearly, and you know what?
Life was good. Life was damn good.
