Chapter 4 - A Winchester Welcome
Y/N finds herself in a bunker with three unfamiliar men that are determined to help her.
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I stir to the sound of unfamiliar voices, sounding muffled and far away.
“You must know something, I mean, why would he just take some regular girl?” A man with a gruff voice says.
“I’ve heard nothing of it. She’s not on the list of prophets and she doesn’t seem to have any connections to Heaven or Hell,” another man replies, his voice low, gravelly, and unusually monotone.
“So what? He just abducted her for fun?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” a third man pitched in, his voice slightly softer than the others.
My eyes flutter open, the light falling on my sensitive pupils. I quickly come to the realization that I am no longer in the house that Lucifer had dragged me to. I’m slumped over in a chair sat at a long wooden table in what looks to be some sort of underground shelter or bunker.
The foundation is made of steel, layed with brick, and supported by concrete pillars. Hundreds of books and weird artifacts displayed on shelves line every wall, illuminated by the soft warm glow of overhead lights.
I must consider my options quickly. Who knows how long it will take for the three men across the room to notice that I am no longer asleep. If I've learned anything recently, it's that the world is a lot more frightening than I've ever known before and nobody can be trusted.
I have to find a way out and fast. Running clearly hasn’t worked out for me, so that only leaves me one option: I have to fight my way out of here. I scan the room around me looking for anything to defend myself with. My eyes land on a sharp letter opener laying on the table in front of me on a stack of scattered papers and books. It’s not ideal, but it will have to do. I swipe it quickly and hold it at arm's length in front of me as I quietly rise from my seat.
This catches their attention, stopping their conversation dead in its tracks. For a second there’s silence, it hangs uncomfortably in the air until the tallest man finally speaks up.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you,” he says in a gentle, soothing voice, that in any other circumstance would have put me at ease.
He has long flowing locks of brown hair tucked behind his ears and a blue flannel that hugs his tall, muscular build. He’s well over six feet tall, not someone that I could easily take in a fight, he’d most likely snap me in half without breaking a sweat. But something about him is soft and caring.
He takes a hesitant step towards me and raises his hands to show he means no harm.
“Stay away from me you demonic fucks!” I yell, swinging the letter opener and slowly backing away towards the open hallway behind me. Truthfully I have no clue what the layout of this building is. For all I know, this hall could lead me even deeper into this nightmare of a situation, but staying in this room trapped with three mysterious men is not an option.
“We’re not demons, we’re here to help you. I’m Sam and this is my brother Dean Winchester,” he gestures between him and the other man in flannel.
Dean puts on a fake smile and gives a half hearted wave.
My eyes shift to the man in a trenchcoat behind them, standing silently with an intense gaze.
Dean catches this and gives him a subtle nudge to the shoulder.
The man looks confused and annoyed at first, then clears his throat. “I am Castiel. Angel of the Lord,” he states flatly.
“Yeah? Well I've had enough of you twisted angels for a lifetime. So, if you'll excuse me, I’ll be taking my leave!” My voice quivers, but my face stays strong and stoic. I take a step back towards the nearest hallway, readying myself to make an escape.
Sam seems to take pity on me, clearly seen in his big brown puppy dog eyes.
Dean and Castiel on the other hand, look rather annoyed.
“You don't want to do that,” Dean warns.
“Yeah, and why’s that?” I huff, narrowing my eyes at him.
“Lucifer seems to have taken an interest in you and he will stop at nothing to find you. If there’s one thing I know about my brother, it’s that he’s stubbornly persistent,” the angel weighs in.
“We have this place sigilled to high Heaven. He won’t be able to get to you in here, but as soon as you leave those doors, we can’t protect you from him,” Dean says, crossing his arms.
“Why would you want to help me?”
“It’s what we do,” he replies with a smile.
“I promise you, you’re safe here. You just have to trust us,” Sam says, approaching me carefully like I'm some wounded animal.
I give a quick nod and reluctantly lower the letter opener, deciding to let my guard down, seeing as I don’t have many other options at the moment.
Sam takes the blade from my hand and flashes me a relieved smile, placing it on the worn wooden table. He pulls out two chairs, the scrape of wood echoing around the large room. He sits on the chair to the right and pats the other, urging me to sit next to him.
With caution I slide into the chair, never taking my eyes off him in fear this all may be a trap.
“What’s your name?” He asks kindly, gently placing his hand on mine in an act of sincerity.
I can’t help but remember the feeling of Lucifer's hand over mine, the buzz of electricity that quivered through us. I shake off the memory, refocusing my attention on Sam.
Dean and Castiel leave the room, having a hushed conversation between the two.
“Y/N.”
“That’s a lovely name.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of what to say. “How are you holding up? I’m sure this is a lot to take in at once.” He feathers his hands through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear.
“I’ve been better,” I reply bitterly.
He nods sympathetically.
The room goes quiet as we both become lost in thought.
Dean returns holding three bottles of beer, Cas following not far behind. He places a bottle in front of me, popping off the cap with a pocket knife before taking his seat across the table.
Cas looms awkwardly behind him, staring me down suspiciously, like a bomb that may go off at any moment.
Without a second thought, I grab the bottle, putting the cold glass rim up to my lips and chug. I close my eyes and feel the bubbly liquid flowing down my throat, leaving a warm sensation in its wake. I drink until the bottle’s completely empty, shaking it lightly to get every last drop. The alcohol eases my worries, reminding me of my days before the dreams started, before being kidnapped by the devil, before being injected by the mystery serum, before finding myself in a bunker with two men and their angel. The days, that in hindsight, I really took for granted. I open my eyes to see everyone staring at me intently.
Sam looks surprised, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly ajar.
Dean on the other hand smiles, clearly impressed. “So,” Dean says, trailing his eyes over my form. “Why is Lucifer so fixated on you?” He asks, kicking his feet up to rest on the table and taking a swig of his beer.
Sam shoots him a disapproving look, but chooses not to say anything.
“I’m not sure actually.” I glance down at my hands, picking at the skin of my cuticles absentmindedly.
Sam silently hands me his beer.
I nod appreciatively and take a sip, choosing to savor it this time. “I started having dreams of him about a month ago. Terrible, terrible dreams. Then he abducted me. I thought for sure he was going to kill me, but he seemed possessive and surprisingly affectionate towards me?” I say uncertain, not entirely sure if I believe the words coming out of my mouth.
The three men exchange glances between each other, somewhere between confusion and skepticism.
“Affection?” Dean asks, raising his brow.
“Yeah, he kept calling me his beloved and assuring me everything was going to be okay,” I say the words like they’re sour in my mouth, leaving behind a bitter taste.
Dean's face twists in disgust picturing it. “So that’s it? Did he do anything else?” Dean questions, his deep voice echoing off the walls.
“Yes,” I state in an angry tone.
The boys lean in, waiting for me to say more, but I choose not to elaborate further. I’m not too keen on sharing the most traumatic event I've ever experienced with some strange men I just met.
“I’d like to go to my room, please.” I grab the bottle and take a long swig, tracing my eyes along the wall, purposefully looking anywhere besides them.
“Y/N,” Sam says in his soft voice, indirectly asking for more information.
“Please, Sam.” I give in, looking at his soft hazel eyes.
He nods, then stands from the chair and escorts me to an empty bedroom down the hall. We walk in silence, only the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. “Dean’s just one room over and my room is across the way.” He points to a room a few doors down across the hall. “We’ll be here if you need anything at all.” He places his large hand on my shoulder, giving a light, reassuring squeeze.
“Thanks.” I close the door behind me, letting out a long breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. Looking around, the room is neatly cleaned. Mostly barren besides a bed, a nightstand with a small lamp, and a leather trunk at the foot of the bed. Despite the place feeling void of human touch, I still feel more comfortable here than in Lucifer's abode.
I enter the small connected bathroom and shrug off my dirty clothes, turning on the shower. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Despite the hours of sleep I've gotten recently without much say in the matter, my eyes have light purple bags under them like I've been awake for days. My hair’s a mess, strands going every which way and little knots forming at the ends. I run my fingers through, slowly working through the tangles until it looked somewhat presentable.
I step into the shower and the hot water feels incredible. It temporarily melts away the memories of the day, the tension easing out of my muscles. I lather my hair with the small bottle of lavender shampoo in the nook of the shower, and wash all the grime from my body with the tiny bar of soap. Getting clean has never felt so good in all my life. I close my eyes and stand under the stream until the warm water runs cold, the drops feeling like little needles hitting my skin.
After drying off and brushing my teeth, I slip into bed, only dressed in my underwear, as I don’t have any clean clothes to change into. My body relaxes knowing that I’m safe from Lucifer in this bunker, at least for the time being, and that’s good enough for me. For a long while I sit awake, staring at the ceiling, my mind running so fast yet feeling so empty, but eventually exhaustion sets in and sleep claims me once more.
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