Abducted: Part One | SPN | Dean x Reader | Slow Burn

Chapter 22: The Wizard And Her Wand

You now currently sat at the mess room table, next to Sam and facing Dean as he made the three of you his infamous burgers for dinner in the small kitchenette. Each of you, a beer either held or sitting in front of you, enjoying each others company.

"Show me your fist." Sam had asked politely, unlike you knew his brother wouldn't have. And you obliged, taking the time to remind yourself that the thumb went on the outside, so as not to break the bone. And Sam complimented you on that. "Good. At least you didn't tuck your thumb under like most girls do."

And you revealed sheepishly that you had had to concentrate on that. "I've read a few comics, I know they always draw the thumb on the outside..." You whispered, causing both men to laugh at you.

"What comics have you been reading?" Dean asked out of curiosity.

"Manga mostly... Although I had a friend in university that loved to read DC and Marvel stuff, so I've seen a few covers... Plus, Hugh Jackman as Wolverine... If you guys told me the X- men were real too, I'd be out of here in a flash." Your torso shook slightly as you chuckled to yourself, and your mind flashed with images of the Adamantium clawed anti-hero.

Sam smirked at you and Dean rolled his eyes. "Wolverine? He's a dick... He'd rip you to shreds."

"He's not a real person Dean..." You heard Sam somewhat defend your choices next to you. "Besides, he'd beat Batman in a fight..." Good old reliable Sam, he always backed you up when it meant he could give his older brother shit in return.

"How?" Dean asked insulted.

You couldn't believe you were about to have another argument, on superheroes no less, but you totally got involved anyways. "Batman is nothing without his gadgets. Wolverine can regenerate!"

"You're only defending him because you just objectified Hugh Jackman." Dean pointed the tongs he was holding in his hand accusingly at you. He looked ridiculous in his apron too, and it was really hard to take his banter seriously.

"Objectified? Please... You're always bringing up random actresses you'll never meet... Who was it the other day, Mila Kunis?... How is it different when I do it?" You weren't going to let the double standard get past you unnoticed.

Sam muttered under his breath. "And people always say Dean and I act like a married couple..."

"What?" Being right next to Sam, you had heard him perfectly well. Dean hadn't seemed to though and he also called out a "What?" from the kitchen island, shortly after you had spoken yours.

"Never mind..." Sam shook his head. "Just thinking out loud... Have you ever punched anyone before?"

You hadn't, but right now you felt like you wanted to punch a certain man in the room. "Nope... Never... Although I whacked my brother over the head once." And you laughed at the memory from your childhood.

"Haven't we all." Sam seeming to recall his own memories, most probably, more recent to yours.

You grinned at Sam's comment as Dean glared at you, walking over with two plated burgers, one for each of you. He then moved back to collect his own and sat down opposite you at the table.

The three of you continued your discussion, if you could call it that, savouring your time of rest. Sam and you collaborating on washing the dishes once you had all finished, while Dean sat back, continuing the conversations between you all.

The topic had turned to watching a movie that evening. But Sam had warned you he wanted you up early to begin your self defence training. Informing you, you were to meet him in the war room at six, to go with him on his morning run.

"Fun..." You had replied sarcastically. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then... Night guys." And rather than staying up to watch a movie with the boys, you opted for a shower and bed.

The next morning, the alarm you had set on your phone went off at half past five, and you had to force yourself out of bed, as soon as it had. You didn't want to risk falling back asleep, resulting in being late for your first day of Sam's boot camp, the term coming to you during the night. Thank fuck it wasn't winter yet.

You dressed and caffeinated yourself, saving the shower for after Sam was finished with you, and made it to the war room right on six o'clock. Beating Sam there by about thirty seconds.

Sam greeted you with a "Morning Glowworm!" And the look you gave him was exactly the same as you had given Dean, when he'd tried using the nickname  Crowley had first given you. He found it funny and added, "I think it suits you, get used to it, it's cute."

The two of you set off on Sam's usual route, keeping a slow pace for your behalf. You would come to match his regular speed in the coming months.

When you returned to the bunker, it was just after seven and the two of you parted to clean up. Meeting in the mess room again some thirty minutes later for breakfast and more coffee. Dean now awake himself, although not really looking it, sat at the table, hair askew, grasping his own cup.

"How was the run?" He grumbled as a form of greeting, which made both you and Sam exchange a knowing look.

"Wonderful..." You replied sarcastically. "You should try it."

Both you and Sam sat down simultaneously opposite the older, currently grumpy, Winchester as you had done the night before during your comic discussion. Sam scoffing at you. "It wasn't that bad."

"Dude, the only reason anyone should be leaving their house that early, is to get paid for it... Or do their job, in your cases." You added on at the end, remembering that Sam and Dean didn't get any form of payment to do theirs.

Dean sighed. "She's gotta point Sammy." He then turned to you. "Hope you had your gun with you..."

"Huh?... Why would I?" You asked him slightly confused.

"Cause you need to get used to it... In fact, you should have it on you always, even in the bunker if we're hanging out like now. You never want to be caught without it." Dean was now lecturing you, matter of factly.

You looked at Sam, questioning him with your eyes but he just shrugged at you. "I, I don't even know how to use it yet?"

"Well, after lunch, you're going to learn. Sam's got you booked for the mornings for hand to hand stuff, and then you're mine in the afternoons." That was Dean's way of telling you he and Sam had made up a training schedule. And for the next couple of months, you would follow it, whenever you were home.

Daily from six to seven, you would go for your morning run with Sam, strengthening your stamina with cardio. Followed by breakfast. Then, between eight and eleven, you would move into the bunkers gym, where Sam showed you some moves, both defensive and offensive. And some days, he would switch things up, choosing to have you work on your fitness and strength with weights and the rest of the gym equipment.

From eleven to one, you were free to do as you pleased, usually occupying that time with a shower, lunch and relaxation. And from one o'clock onwards you were with Dean.

He started off with teaching you to clean and maintain the upkeep of the gun he'd given you. Practicing loading, reloading, pulling the thing apart and putting it back together again. Learning about the various bullets that would fit it and where they were kept in Baby's boot. He even had you inscribing the tiny devils traps on the top of the demon bullets eventually.

For now, Dean only focused on your small hand gun, insisting in the future he would show you the shot guns and rifles too, much to your dismay. And when he and you were both confident that you were ready to handle it, he took you to the bunkers shooting range. And you shot at a target for the very first time.