#cop!sam

They were hunters- or were they? You grappled with the idea, turning it over and over in your head. On one hand, the name Winchester was well known in the hunter community, but that didn’t necessarily mean they were who they said. And on the other, why the hell would anybody want to help you? You hunted solo, barely went to hunter gatherings, and didn’t work well with others. That had been your MO since you were 17 years old: sleeping in single roomed motels and driving around in your jeep from case to case. 

You looked at the two men standing before you- who could either be your saviors or the ones that killed you- and didn’t quite know what to say. By the looks of it, they didn’t either. The shorter one- Dean was his name- was staring at you with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. His brother, Sam, was looking at you as well, but his face was soft- kind even. You didn’t like it. 

It made you queasy to be looked at that way, like you were someone who needed saving. You didn’t blame him though; he had just seen the living shit beaten out of you not five minutes earlier. But you weren’t the type of person to accept help when it was offered- especially when strangers were the ones offering it. Actually, you didn’t even know if they wanted to help you- so you decided you’d test them first. 

You didn’t have any holy water or salt, but if they were hunters working on a demon case you assumed they would. So, squaring your shoulders and staring up at the Winchesters suspiciously, you said, “Prove it. Prove you’re human.” 

Dean chuckled and nodded at his brother, who pulled a flask with a cross on it from his jacket pocket. You found yourself smiling, the flask was not unlike the one you usually had glued to your hip. Sam opened the lid with a pop and poured the holy water on both him and his brother’s sleeves, practically drenching their forearms. 

You waited for the sizzle or hissing sound of burning flesh, but it didn’t come. So they were human, that much was clear. Okay, you thought to yourself, what do I do now? 

You weren’t entirely sure what to say now that you knew they didn’t have black eyes, so you just blurted out what was on your mind, “What do you want with me then?” 

This took the brothers by surprise and you saw Sam furrow his brow before responding. The bite in his words them stung, and you weren’t sure why. Sam was a stranger, his opinion shouldn’t have mattered to you- but for some reason, it did.  

“Why do you assume it’s something bad?” 

Well, he got you there. Why did you assume it was bad? Why did you always assume that? The question posed really threw you for a loop. It would be easy to blame it on your sorry excuse for a childhood, or your Dad’s tried and true motto of ‘trust nobody but yourself’, or maybe you could just say it was because you were a hunter- and you’d seen too much shit to really trust anything anymore. But, as you said earlier, those would be easy ways out. Why were you so god damn cynical? 

When you didn’t respond Dean did for you, “Sammy, back off. Alright, what can you tell us about this case? We just got here a few days ago, and the only thing we know so far is that those demons sure as shit don’t like you.” 

You gave a dry chuckle before replying, “I don’t know much either, to be honest. I was working the case from the outside a few weeks back until they caught on and the assholes ended up framing me. They possess the guards though, I don’t know how many but I’d say a good 3/4ths aren’t human.”  

Sam furrowed his brow, “Do you know why they’re here? What’s the point?” 

You shook your head, “They don’t have one, I don’t think.” 

Those were the worst type of cases, when demons were just “having fun”. Without a purpose or mission to complete, these demons were free to torture, maim and kill as they pleased. Their idea of ‘fun’ almost always included the deaths of humans, usually in the most gruesome displays imaginable. You saw the Winchesters exchange glances, as if they were thinking the same thing you were. 

The case was worse for you though, there were more risks. You were already too far in and it was personal- all of those demons knew you by name. Even though it’d kill you to admit it, you were scared. Escaping would be near impossible even if you ended up letting the Winchesters help you. Your pride wouldn’t let you admit to any of these doubts, but they were always in the back of your mind. 

When the brothers started talking amongst themselves, arguing about the case and what not, you decided to check out your injuries. Those demons had given you quite a beating, and you just hoped the saran wrap had done its job. 

Without saying a word, you stalked into the windowless room before you and lifted your shirt up over your arms. Neither Winchester seemed to notice at first until you started peeling off the saran wrap layer by layer. With the first crinkle of the plastic, you felt them turn and go rigid- and could have sworn Dean let out a small chuckle. 

Your shirt was tossed aside and crumpled on the floor in front of you, but it was the last thing on your mind. The closer you got to your actual stomach the more it hurt, layer by layer until you were gritting your teeth to keep from crying out. The last strip came off excruciatingly slow, sticking to your skin before finally letting go. 

Your stomach was pretty bad, you weren’t going to deny it. Purple bruises covered almost your entire abdomen, starting just under your ribs and ending just above the V of your hips. But it could have been worse- nothing was broken (as far as you could tell) and nothing was bleeding. You could handle a few bruises, you could handle them because you didn’t have the option not to.  

Getting your shirt back over your head proved painful as hell, but you managed to do it and only cry out once. But it was one time too many, and Sam was at your side in a second. He helped you ease the shirt over your shoulders and gripped your hand tight when he saw you grit your teeth at the motion. Half of you wanted to pull away, and the other half was wondering why he cared? If the roles were reversed, you sure as hell wouldn’t have. 

“You good?” Dean called from across the room and you nodded in return, “Yeah, yeah, fine.” 

“We’ll be right back- just gotta get a few things and then we can make a plan.” Sam turned to you, looking like he genuinely felt bad leaving you in that dank room. 

“Okay, I’ll be here.” You chuckled dryly and found it hurt your stomach. 

“Wait, what’s your name?” Sam called behind his shoulder before leaving your cell. 

“(Y/N).” You replied, and you found that giving him a fake one hadn’t even crossed your mind.  

Not five minutes after the Winchesters had left, promising they’d return soon enough, the small framed woman from earlier appeared. 

“Hey girlie, remember when you burned me and messed with my face?” She drawled, pointing lazily to the gash on her forehead, “And I promised that you’d regret it the next time I saw you?” 

You didn’t respond, but readied yourself for a fight. 

“Welcome to next time, bitch.” 

She looked positively wicked as she threw the door open and stepped into its frame, eliminating any possibility of you getting past her. You were stuck, but not without options. It was just one demon and, weaponless as you were, you could take her. 

She pulled out a switchblade and opened it with a click, you felt yourself shudder. Maybe you wouldn’t get out of this one alive. 

You cursed yourself for being to proud to ask the Winchesters for a weapon of some sort, with some holy water or a gun you’d be out of this situation already. But you’d let your hubris get in the way, and now you were backed into a corner and out of options. 

You stood up from the end of your cot, squaring your shoulders and balling your fists in anticipation for the demon’s first strike. But before anything could happen, the older guard from before showed up in the doorway. 

“Hey, sweetheart, fancy seeing you here.” He chuckled, low and menacing. 

Your heart began to race, two against one weren’t the best odds. You backed up a step, but found you were already at the end of the cell- no way out. Calm down, calm down, calm down, you urged yourself to take a few breaths and figure out what to do next. 

Nothing had changed, fighting was still your best option- only now there was less of a chance that you’d get out of there alive.

The older guard lunged and you sidestepped him, narrowly dodging his outstretched arms. Almost immediately after, the small framed woman ran at you, switchblade in hand. You caught her wrist and quickly disarmed her- grabbing the knife for yourself. 

Okay, now you have a weapon, you thought, omitting the fact that knives did nothing against demons. 

They struck again, this time working together. The woman pushed your shoulders back while he grabbed the knife out of your hand. You scrambled to get away from them, but it was no use. They had you pinned to the wall, just like you were not a half hour earlier. Except this time it was private, they could do just about anything they wanted and get away with it. They were no cameras in solitary. 

“I’m gonna let Daeva have this one, you and her seem to have a score to settle.” The older one breathed and nodded to the demon at his right, his stale breath sending a chill through your bones. 

The small framed woman, once again, clicked the switch blade open and held it up to your cheek. “Such a pretty face, it would be a shame it someone went and cut it up now wouldn’t it?” She stuck her bottom lip out into an exaggerated pout before dragging the blade up and down. It wasn’t deep enough to draw blood, but you knew that if she pushed just a little harder it would be. 

Up until that moment you’d completely forgotten about your stomach, still battered and bruised. But when the older demon slammed a fist into it, probably just for his own amusement, you were quickly reminded. 

You cried out through gritted teeth and closed your eyes. You didn’t want to see the two hellish creatures in front of you anymore, and knew you were powerless to save yourself. So you took comfort in the dark, in the fact that you weren’t giving them the satisfaction of looking as they scarred you. 

But nothing happened, the pain you braced yourself for never came. You heard a zap and a gasp and then, before you could even open your eyes, someone asked, “Are you okay?!” 

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Sam - 

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Jensen - 

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Jared -