A note from the author:
This is a prequel to the wonderful fic, Written on Skin, wayward-marvel-and-more wrote for me a while back. She knows how long I've had this idea and done nothing with it, so at least it's finally out. Plus, it gave me something to finish for this challenge, since I started about six different ideas and got about six hundred words in before deciding that, nope, this was a horrible idea. Maybe those'll come out one day, but this is what I'm submitting. And the other challenge ended up working into it so…um…yeah, two birds and all that :D
Fuck me, this feels even more fanfiction-y than usual. At least with the reader-inserts I can pretend I'm not just writing Me/Dean, but now I'm being outed xD
Also, apologies for any mistakes. This is unbetaed and unedited and, man, I could've written a hundred more pages on this and I tried really hard to cut it down to a readable length and okay, stalling. Awesome.
He shot up in bed, panting. His hand ran down over his face, his breath heavy, as he tried to calm himself down. He looked down, finding himself naked and under a thin sheet of bed in an apartment he'd never seen before.
Off to his side lay the creamy white bare back of some women he'd never seen before either. He thought her beautiful, with long brown hair fanned out around her as she snored quietly.
He hoped that this was either a dream or he would remember the obviously fun night before.
He crawled out of bed, pulling the clothes that littered the floor on as he walked out into main room.
It was a nice apartment, and his brow furrowed the more he looked around.
Then he walked over to the island counter that separated the small kitchen from the living room. A pile of mail rested on the edge, scattered like it had been thrown there. He picked up a few of the letters, immediately identifying them as bills. A few were addressed to someone named Katie–he assumed it was the girl he had woken up next to–but what really caught his eye were the ones addressed to him. And all pointed to a single town: Lawrence, Kansas. He frowned, confused as hell. "What the hell?"
"Hey."
He whipped around to face her.
The woman from the bed was standing in the doorway that led to the bedroom. She wore only a button-up flannel overshirt that was huge on her. It startled him to realize that he recognized the shirt as his.
Her blue eyes narrowed and her brow furrowed as she walked over to him. "What're you doing up?"
He immediately went into panic mode. "Hey…Katie," he pulled out his boyish smile, hoping that would be enough to calm her. "Katie, I just, uh…"
She took his hand in hers once she was close enough, then looked up at him as she played with his calloused fingers. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"
"Yeah," he laughed awkwardly, thankful for the excuse.
She smiled, obviously still unconvinced. "C'mon, you know that's my department…" she smiled half-heartedly, still searching him for clues as to what was wrong. Finally, she sighed lightly. "Okay…well, if you want," her hand trailed up his arm with featherlight touches right up to the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Her eyes locked with his as she smiled shyly, "I can help tire you out?"
He stuttered, pulling a nervous smile. "Sure. Yeah. In a minute, you go ahead."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't sound too excited," she replied as she leaned up, pulling his head down for a soft, simple kiss. When she fell back onto her heels, Dean found himself following her just a bit.
He looked down at her, really taking her in for the first time. Her large blue eyes, filled with concern and love, gazed up at him. Without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, which made her beam like a kid on Christmas morning.
She left him then, walking back into the bedroom.
As soon as she was out of sight, he let his panic show and began to search the apartment.
Pictures of the girl were there, as expected, but what confused him most were the pictures of him and the girl, hugging and kissing and posing for most of them.
Without thinking, his hand went down to trace over the words tattooed on his wrist: Son of a bitch.
Was she his soulmate? This was insane. He would've remembered meeting his soulmate, no matter how drunk he was. But it wasn't like he could run in and question her without it blowing his cover.
He turned around, running a hand down over his face as he thought. A picture on another shelf caught his eye, and his breath stopped. He walked over to it slowly, like it was a mirage that would disappear if he moved too quickly. He picked it up the second he was close enough, his eyes widened.
All thoughts about soulmates were quickly forgotten.
When Dean woke up, he told Sam about his dream. He was then silent about it. Sam had asked more about their mom and his life with Jess, .
"I don't know…Katie and Jess seemed to get along fine enough, but you and I–"
"Wait…who's Katie?"
That silenced him. "…Some dream made by the djinn, I guess."
"Was she…was she your soulmate?"
"It doesn't matter, Sammy–she doesn't exist."
"Soulmate stuff is weird, Dean."
Dean scoffed at that. "C'mon, she was too perfect. She loved my music and knew everything about cars and could drink alongside me–it was like the bastard just took a picture from my head and made her. She doesn't exist!"
Sam sighed heavily. "Well, you're probably right. Sorry."
Dean ran a hand down in his face in frustration. "No, I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't've yelled at you. Look, let's just forget about this, alright? We got bigger fish to fry."
And that was the last the boys spoke of it for three more years.
Katie really didn't want to go to work today.
There was literally nothing to do, as usual. For the past three months, she woken up, gone into work, had no task, gone home, and went to bed.
Her time was spent either playing Hearthstone on her phone at her desk, listening to YouTube, or, if she was really lucky, she was answering questions brought to her by other teams with shit to do.
She thumbed the words on her wrist, as she usually did when she felt down: Holy crap. She was thankful as all hell that the words were unique, that they were unmistakeable. She was one of those people that couldn't wait to meet their soulmate. She hadn't even so much as held hands with anyone, waiting for her soulmate.
However, here she was, in her mid-twenties, feeling more alone than ever in a place she felt useless.
Her life had come to a complete standstill.
So imagine her surprise when, as she walked into her office that morning, she found it surrounded by crime scene tape. Trying to find out what was going on, she searched the small crowd for a familiar face. Unfortunately, there was no one and heaven knows that she didn't have the ability to actually initiate a conversation with someone she didn't know.
Instead, Katie stood awkwardly over by the gate, craning her neck and standing on her tip-toes to try and get a glimpse of what was going on.
What she saw was a thick, black plume of smoke coming right towards her.
Then she couldn't see anything.
Dean and Sam walked into the abandoned warehouse. Sam was clutching Ruby's knife tightly, whilst Dean twirled an angel blade.
They, unfortunately, hadn't heard from Castiel in days, as he was still searching for God.
Meanwhile, the boys had taken a relatively simple demon hunt in LA, searching for anything to keep them occupied. Perhaps they hadn't had a chance to explore the brights lights of Hollywood just yet, but the idea of having a hunt was just as distracting, so they were okay.
The building was in the middle of the industrial part of town, covered in grime, dust, and neglect. It was once probably a warehouse and was surrounded by identical building on every side. They might've gotten lost for a few minutes in the sea of identicals, but they were at least eighty percent sure that this was the right place.
Sam took point, leading the way into the warehouse. His hazel eyes danced over every inch of the place, looking for anything out of place, any place where a demon could get the jump on them.
There were, as far as they could tell, only one or two demons in this place. They'd apparently captured some people for a ceremony to summon some bigwig demon.
Blah blah, demon stuff.
Finally, they found a large, open room. About six people were tied up, resting in the middle near each other. Some of them seemed to be unconscious, but there were scared murmurs that told them that some were awake.
They crept down the stairs to the room silently.
"Well, this is definitely not a trap," Dean grumbled quietly. Sam shushed him as they came across the group. The younger Winchester pushed the door open.
The people looked up in fear, which turned to confusion as they saw men they'd never seen before.
Sam held a finger to his lips, quickly silencing the small group. "Alright, we're gonna get you all out of here. Just be as quiet as you can."
Everyone shuffled back, afraid that this was a trick of some sort, especially with the serrated blade in his hand. He walked up to a girl near the front. She looked high school age, with bright blonde hair that was probably once in a ponytail but had long since come undone.
Sam held his left hand out, his puppy eyes working their magic. "Here, give me your hands."
The girl's eyes darted between Sam, the knife, and her own bound hands. Finally, she slowly held her hands out, and Sam cut her loose. The second she was free, she climbed to her feet and ran over to the door.
Others then started coming up to Sam, holding their hands out.
Except for one.
Dean hadn't been able to keep his eyes off of her since walking in.
It was Katie.
For the first time since the two men entered the room, she looked up. She watched Sam for a moment before seeing Dean blatantly staring at her. Her pale cheeks flushed red and she turned away, focusing once again on the ground by her feet.
"Holy crap," Dean spoke, just loud enough for her to hear.
Her head snapped up, her eyes wide enough to pop out of her head. She looked shocked, but quickly, she practically rolled her eyes. "Son of a bitch."
Then the black smoke returned, obviously gunning for her.
He dove for her, barely making it in time to cover her. The smoke flew around, looking for a host not covered by someone with an anti-possession tattoo.
Dean began shouting in Latin and pulled her to her feet. He pulled her by her still-bound wrists towards his brother.
Without needing prompting, Sam began herding the people out the way they came, trying to keep the swirling smoke above their heads away from the group.
As they ran from the building, it began to fill with lightning and powerful gusts of wind. The crowd of people bustled and screaming, tripping over their own feet and doing nothing to help their situation. As the boys guided the cluster out of the building, they stopped often to lift one person to their feet or to pull the one moron in every horror movie who stands there and watches their doom coming towards them.
Dean finally finished the exorcism as they reached the door to the building. Sounds that were almost screams came from the black clouds that had been following ever closer behind them.
Everyone ducked as the smoke blew past them and then towards the ground, leaving burn marks on the sidewalk as the only evidence that anything had been following them.
There was silence for a moment as they all stared at the charred remains of pavement.
Then the girl who Dean had yet to let go started reaching for Dean's wrist. "Lemme see," she begged quietly.
Dean looked down at her before handing over her hand. She touched it reverently, like it would disappear at any moment.
Then she looked up at him and laughed breathlessly. "Of course I had to be kidnapped to meet you."
He smiled widely; not the smile he gave to women he tried to pick up in bars, not the smile he gave when he felt awkward and was trying to break the tension, but a true, genuine smile. "Just my luck, too."
She coughed awkwardly, dropping his hand. "Um, can I get some help, please?"
Dean's grin looked more like his usual one now. "Sure, here," he took her wrists and had her freed in a moment.
Sam walked over as Dean finished freeing her, automatically rubbing his hands across her raw wrists. "Hey," Sam trailed off a bit, noticing the weird interaction between the two. "C'mon, we gotta get out of here before the cops show up."
She grasped at Dean's flannel. "W-Wait, you're leaving?"
Dean turned back to her, frowning. "Not without you, Katie. C'mon, I'll explain on the way."
She frowned. "Wait, how do you know my name?"
Dean chuckled awkwardly, looking between his brother and his soulmate. "That's a long story, sweetheart."
A week later, the Winchesters had yet to leave Los Angeles.
Katie had gotten the talk the night after being saved. She'd been able to tell them what she remembered, and they figured that the demons had been possessing people to bring them to the warehouse for the sacrifice.
She had heard the word "sacrifice" and had gone even paler, if that were possible for the Casper-esque girl. She'd then muttered some platitude that didn't express how thankful she was, and Dean took her hand, twining their fingers together.
He'd told her about his djinn dream and her role in it, which had sparked endless questions from them both. The sum of the conversation was that, no, she knew next to nothing about cars; she wasn't a nurse, but an aspiring writer; she liked some eighties music but didn't know a lot about it; and that she was only slightly similar to the dream version of her.
She knew that this tiny bit of information would make her anxious for years to come, anxious that she couldn't live up to this perfect version of her. When she brought it up a few days later, he'd just shrugged. He brushed some of her bangs from her face and said simply, "I like this version of you more."
That had earned him their first kiss, which had been all teeth and not that good. She'd pulled back, embarrassed. Dean had laughed and then taught her how to kiss properly for quite a while after that.
They'd decided that Katie would go on the road with them. With their stolen credit cards, they didn't have to worry about her job, and they could keep her shitty little apartment as a place to come home to sometimes (she refused to give up her books and video games).
So, the three of them rested up in her little place as they searched for the next case. She even managed to drag them to Disneyland at one point, which both bemoaned, but they eventually got into it (if only because she was so excitable the entire day).
Sam and Katie also got along quite well. They geeked out over their love of true crime, which had freaked Dean out a little. She was also fascinated with how they figured things out, including how to hack into things and get new credit cards. Sam promised to show her how to do all of that, and she immediately decided that she loved the man.
Usually, though, the soulmates were sitting together, learning as much as they could about the other.
And making out. There was a lot of that.
They were constantly touching in one way or another. Whether it be Dean's hand on her lower back, Katie resting her head on his shoulder, him throwing an arm around her shoulders, her sneaking up and hugging him whenever she could. They were disgusting.
When they finally found a case and had to leave, Katie packed a small bag and offered to crawl into the back.
Dean was having none of that.
Sam groaned at the news, which made his brother frown. "What're you complaining about, Sammy? You can spread your legs out in the backseat."
"And watch you two? Can I ride in the trunk?"
"No, you can't ride in the trunk. Suck it up, moose."
Katie sent Sam a pitying look. "We'll tone it down, I promise."
"Don't make promises you can't keep, baby," Dean grinned, leaning down to peck her on the lips.
Sam groaned again as he crawled into the backseat.
Katie shoved Dean playfully. "Don't be a dick."
"C'mon, we'll have to put up with it when Sammy meets his soulmate," Dean reasoned as they both slid into Baby.
Without thinking, Katie slid across the bench seat, nestling into Dean's side. "Fair point, but that's no reason to torture him now."
Dean's grumbling was quieted by her being so close. She pulled up the box of cassettes, picking one at random and pushing it into the player.
As the first few notes began playing, Katie grinned. "Hey, who is this? This is great!"
Dean's smile got bigger as Sam's groan got louder.
Years later, when Katie was standing in a small church outside of Lebanon, Kansas, Katie couldn't believe her life anymore.
She looked down to the end of the aisle, a giant smile on her lips as she saw Dean, fiddling with his FBI suit. He saw her and broke out in a large smile. She gave him a small wave with the hand that wasn't holding the bouquet before disappearing into the bridal room.
In the room stood the bride herself, smoothing a few errant wrinkles from her white skater-style dress in front of the full-length mirror. Katie walked up with a big, bright smile and handed the bouquet over.
ElRoy, the bride, turned to face her, taking the bundle from her with unshed tears of joy. Katie's eyes, of course, immediately began to well up. They laughed breathlessly as ElRoy said, "I can't believe I'm getting married."
"I can." Katie leaned up the few inches that made the difference in their heights and fixed ElRoy's updo. "I half-expected you two to run off and get married after the first date." she chuckled at the memory. "You should've seen Sam. He was so smitten. Dean's teasing was relentless."
ElRoy nodded, like this was nothing surprising. "Well, your husband has taught me to expect nothing less."
"And how," Katie nudged the bride playfully.
They laughed once more before Katie held her arm out. "Ready?"
ElRoy looked as happy as Katie had on her own wedding day, a day that felt like it was weeks not years prior. Katie squeezed ElRoy's hand with her free hand, smiling warmly at her. ElRoy took a deep breath and squeezed back.
And so, Katie pushed open the door to walk her new sister down the aisle and complete their little family.