Next of Kin
Saving people, hunting things, the family business. It’s what they do best. But what happens in the wake of impala taillights? Is it all sunshine, roses, and business as usual for all involved? Or are some just destined to be collateral damage?
Characters: John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader
Warnings: Dark angst, canon style violence, implied child abuse, implied substance abuse. Flashbacks in italics
Tags at end
*Image made by me
Next of Kin
Lebanon, KS 2013
Sam made his way out to the kitchen, the sound of sizzling and Dean humming leading his way. He’d been rummaging through old boxes in his room in search of a specific book of angel lore when another object caught his eye. The dead cell phone, now clutched in his hand, was stirring a weird need and curiosity inside him.
“Whatcha got there, Sammy?” Dean watched him plug something into a nearby outlet.
Sam took his usual seat at the table. “I found this old phone in that box of stuff we salvaged from Bobby’s.”
“It looks like one of mine.” Dean plopped a plate of burgers on the table before taking his seat.
“Yeah, I figured I would charge it and see if there are any useful numbers or anything on it.”
“Smart thinking, Sammy boy!” He said around a mouth full.
“Gross. Don’t talk with your mouth full, dude.” Sam shook his head, exasperated at his brother’s lack of table manners.
The phone beeped, halting their juvenile banter. Sam picked it up and flipped it open. “Looks like you’ve got voicemail.”
Dean shrugged, popped a fry into his mouth, and raised an eyebrow in response.
“Wow. There’s ten of them. The most recent is dated only two weeks ago.” Sam turned it on speaker and let the message play.