A/N: Hello my wonderful followers, readers, Supernatural and Shadowhunters/mortal instruments fans! Thank you so-so much to all that is reading, it means so much to me. This chapter Is short, but again I just liked how it ended. Please enjoy!
Carry on wayward supernatural fans, and happy patrol shadowhunters.
Andromeda Lightwood couldn't believe her luck. Out of all the things that Jace could have pulled, he just had to pair her up with Dean Winchester to investigate the recent disappearance of a Mundane. As if that wasn't bad enough, she lost the argument about using an Invisibility rune and him chilling in the car, and now she's stuck with the stubborn man himself. She has to hand it to him; he's more stubborn than a mule. She'd normally admire that quality, but right now, she's fighting the urge to introduce his head to the dashboard, which is clearly the love of his life. Seriously, did he love the Impala more than himself? It sure looks that way. Andra can relate; she feels the same way about her daggers.
Leaning against Dean's precious car, the one he'd probably sell his soul for, she waits for him to emerge from the motel room. She has to admit, the Impala is beautiful, and she can see why he cares about it so much. After all, she takes excellent care of her daggers, always ensuring they're sharp and clean, maybe a little obsessively. When Dean finally appears, looking dashing in a black suit. "At least you clean up nicely."
His lips twitched into a slight almost shy smile, that quickly turned to annoyance. "Let's just get this over with."
She couldn't help but notice how the suit hugged his backside, but she quickly schooled her expression into a smirk as she slid into the passenger seat. 'I want to know what love is' blared from the radio as he turned on the car.
She raised her eyebrows as he hurriedly changed the station. "What? You don't like the song or something?" she asked, unable to contain her smirk at his eye roll. He was far too easy to rile up.
She couldn't help but notice that the same song started playing after he had changed it. She glared at the radio, wondering if it was possessed or something. Normally, she wouldn't entertain such thoughts, but since the reality merge, who knows anymore? When the same song started to play again on the station he switched it to, she was starting to get suspicious. He huffed and then shut off the radio, clearly exasperated with the situation.
As if Andra's luck couldn't get any worse, they got caught in a traffic jam on their way to the location where the mundane had vanished.
To fill the oppressive silence, Dean turned the radio back on, and 'Highway To Hell' blared through the car speakers. Andra couldn't help but find it fitting, and it didn't hurt that she actually liked the song.
She started to sing along, losing herself in the beat of the music. To her surprise, he smirked and shook his head before joining in after a moment of shock. Addy didn't really like her taste in music. She always wondered if Jace enjoyed some of it, or if he only pretended to like it to make her happy. Regardless, rock music was the best; sometimes, when nothing else worked, she would lose herself in the music. After the few weeks of seeing the phantom Valentine, she could certainly use a good distraction. She silently thanked Simon for getting her into music, If it wasn't for him she would have never known it.
Andra was pleasantly surprised to find that she had actually forgotten they were in a traffic jam after a couple of songs. Dean's smile and laughter were infectious, not to mention he has a good singing voice - slightly deep, smoky, and hypnotic. As they met eyes, green reflecting the light of the sun, she couldn't help but smile a little herself.
Baffled, Dean turned down the radio. "You like rock music?"
She shrugged. "Whatever gave that away?" she replied sarcastically, placing her hand on her chest.
He snorted, gesturing towards the radio and then her. "The fact that you knew the words."
"Damn, I've been discovered. What a shock that we actually have something in common? I should write it down," she teased.
He laughed, deep and throaty, shaking his head as he moved forward a little. "Not many chicks like my kind of music."
"Then maybe you've met the wrong ones."
"Maybe I have," he admitted, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel.
He almost seemed to ponder his next words before saying, "So..."
"So?" Andra smirked. "Cat caught your tongue?"
He rolled his eyes, this time slightly playfully. "Shut up, cupcake."
"You started the conversation, cowboy," she retorted with a playful smile.
"You've read the books. About me and Sammy's lives?" Dean asked, shifting slightly in his seat.
She raised her eyebrows, wondering where he was going with this. "The books that I could find in stores and online. I even read a few unpublished. What about them?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. "Then you know what happened?"
"A lot of things happened to you and your brother. Be more specific," she urged.
As it suddenly struck her what he was trying to talk about, Andra recalled the book. She remembered that the book didn't go into many details of Dean's time in hell, mainly focusing on Sam and the demon Ruby, as well as Sam's demon blood. She imagined Dean didn't have a pleasant time.
"The book didn't go into any details," Andra finally replied, watching his hands relax on the steering wheel and his shoulders slump.
He nodded. "Good. That's good."
"You do know that Magnus can block those memories," she said casually, aware of the struggles many people in her life faced with trauma, including her own.
He frowned, turning up the radio, and she looked out the window as the traffic finally started moving.
...
It was truly fascinating to watch Dean work and pretend to be an FBI agent investigating the missing persons cases, with Andra being invisible to all except Dean. She listened in briefly before venturing into places where she wouldn't normally be allowed. Dean was certainly skilled at what he did.
Andra knew this because she had read the books about Sam and Dean's lives, which mentioned how hunters often pretended to be FBI agents, reporters, or police officers to investigate mysterious murders caused by supernatural creatures. This approach wasn't so different from what shadowhunters did, except shadowhunters had their own methods, such as drawing invisibility runes and accessing police station computers that normal people wouldn't be allowed to see. Unfortunately, she didn't find anything they didn't already know. She hoped Dean was having better luck.
After waiting for almost an hour, she pulled out her phone to call Dean, only to realize that she forgot her phone back at the Institute. "Smooth move, Andra," she muttered, rolling her eyes at herself. Oh, she's in for a chastise later by Addy, Jace, and well, everyone. She looked through the car, searching for something of Dean's.
The movement behind her pulled her attention from the task at hand. "Finally, Cowboy," she said, crawling out of the car and turning with a smirk ready to tease him about taking so long. Instead, she caught a glance of a tall man, before something hard made connection with her temple, her vision blurring and the world fell into darkness. "Well, this day just took a turn," she mumbled before succumbing to unconsciousness.
...
Andra's temple throbbed in the rhythm of her heart. The suspended light bulb from the ceiling burned her eyes. Her arms and legs were zip-tied to a chair, a rope wrapped around her middle. Bit of an overkill in her opinion. The sound of water dripping somewhere in the distance might as well be a bullet to her head.
"Hey, Cupcake," the deep, smoky voice drew her attention to in front of her. Dean was tied to a chair in a similar way, an IV connected to his arm slowly dripping blood into a bag. "You with me, Cupcake?"
"Please, Cowboy. I've been through worse things," she muttered, wincing at the pain that her own voice caused her head. Immediately she reached for her Stele, frowning when she was unable to move her arm. "Oh, right. I'm tied to a damn chair. Silly me." She heard him snort. "Any bright ideas to get us out of the situation?"
He hummed. "Working on it."
"Well, color me reassured," she retorted dryly. She tilted her head back, her pounding head protesting the movement. Of all the ways she could die, being tied to a chair with the most irritating man she had ever met was not how she imagined she would go. Then again, she never really occupied the thought of how she would go anyway. Addy's worry, concern, and a bit of anger drifted to her like a tide. Hopefully the rescue party would get here before time ran out.
"Well, I wanted a good distraction," she mused to herself. "I'm starting to think that maybe I should pick up a healthier hobby."