Description: Sam x reader fluff. The reader decides to test a theory but ends up hearing more than they should.
Warnings: Claustrophobia? Kinda?
Author’s Note: This was a request I got ages ago but I forgot about entirely! Sorry it’s short!
Today was the day you decided to test a theory.
In retrospect, it probably would have be better if you warned someone of your grand plan first, but how were you ever going to learn valuable hunting skills if people went easy on you? So that’s why you were cramped up in the boot of the impala with just your phone as a light source. You’d picked today of all days to test yourself because Sam was borrowing the impala, you trusted him anyway but it was also probably more than his life was worth to come back with a damaged car… and he wouldn’t turn up the music so loud that you’d have no eardrums left either, that was a good positive.
Your test was simple, you wanted to see if you really could count the lefts, rights and junctions as easily as Sam and Dean claimed they had in the past. Dean regularly enjoyed elaborating on hunting tales to you but when you and Sam were alone he usually would tell you later how it really was, but he hadn’t that time. So the next most logical route was to test it.
You’d kissed Sam goodbye and told him you were off to have a shower and that you’d see him when he got back, perfectly plausible, he didn’t suspect a thing whilst he finished his drink in the kitchen. You’d tiptoed through to the garage and tugged open the boot, hopped in and curled up into the space, which suddenly seemed a lot smaller than you remembered, before closing the lid silently behind you. The plan was set, you were ready to practice.
And the survey said? Yes, yes you could count the turns.
Once out of the bunker, you’d turned left, stopped at a junction after about 5 minutes of no turns and then went straight on for a few more minutes. Telling gradual curves was more difficult than you’d expected, you’d had a couple of what felt like gentle rights, but it was tricky to be sure of, by your knowledge of the area, he seemed to be heading for the town which was exactly where he should be going. From that point there was another left, a junction, left, straight on for 6 minutes, right, left, left, straight on, left - mega fucking bump - right, straight on for a few minutes then he slowed and turned left onto gravel before coming to a halt and killing the engine.
Gravel? He said he was going to the supermarket? That was tarmac, definitely not gravel… strange, Sam never lied to you. You shuffled as slowly as possible to lessen sound in the confined space, trying to find a small gap that you might be able to peer through. There wasn’t any luck so you pulled out your phone to check where you were, but you stopped still when you heard the drivers door open and light footsteps approaching, crunching on the stones.
“Sam Winchester?” a low female voice said.
“That’s me. Who the hell are you?” Sam replied bluntly, clearly in one of those moods that he didn’t want to be dealing with a stranger.
“Castiel asked me to give this to you,” the woman said, ignoring his previous question. You heard some rustling and guessed it must’ve been her passing over a package of some kind.
“And he couldn’t come himself?” Sam snapped before letting out a huff, “I’m sorry, I’m… You’re sure it’s in there though?”
“As far as I know.”
Sam let out a short laugh and more rustling sounded like he was opening the package, there was a muffled click, sounding as if a box was opened and you heard him suck in a breath.
“Is everything in order?” The woman asked after a brief pause.
“Yeah, yeah, I think we’re good.”
“It looks…” the woman trailed off and you heard feet shuffle very slightly on the stones.
“It’s perfect,” Sam said in a low voice. It went quiet for a moment and you heard the package get placed somewhere in the front seat of the car before Sam spoke again, “thank you for this, it’s important that I get this right first time.”
“I gathered as much,” the woman replied with a hint of a laugh, “I must go, but Castiel also told me to say to not worry, Y/N loves you and will definitely say yes.”
“Yeah, well, I really hope so… Thank you again.”
“It’s nothing, good luck on the proposal, Sam,” she replied. A telltale rustle of feathers indicated her departure leaving a nervous Sam in the front seat and a partially-in-shock, very wide eyed you in the boot.
It was suddenly going to be a much longer ride home.