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

January 2015

When you woke up to your alarm on the morning of January 24th, it was cold. Very cold. As much as you wanted to stay curled up under the blankets, you still had a lot to do before Dean woke up. No doubt late, as usual. And you wanted everything complete, before that happened.

Today was his birthday and you wanted to do something special in return for the way he had treated you on your own a few months before in October. Especially since, last year, when you had only known him for a little over a month, his birthday had passed by with not much thought. You had managed to sneakily buy a packet cake mix on a supply run in Lebanon back then, and you had done the same for Sam in May.

But this year, things would be different. You were going to make more of an effort, as the last few months had been crappy for all of you. Most specifically for Dean. He was still no closer to removing the Mark of Cain.

It felt a little too personal to buy him a physical gift. And as much as you wanted to gift him something of the sorts, you were at a loss on what to buy him.

Putting a hoodie on over your sleep clothes, you decided to also put on the pair of warm fuzzy slippers you had bought online recently. They were the most girliest piece of clothing you now owned in your new life. Pastel pink, with long whispy fur that stopped half way up your calf. They had arrived a few days ago in the post box the boys rented in the nearby town. You were delighted by how comfortable they felt.

Back in Sydney, your wardrobe consisted of dresses and skirts, colour and patterns, but here in this life, you stuck with mostly black and denim. Hunting was dirty business and there was no use for such pretty things, at least on the road. Your room had become your one exception. Remembering Dean's advice from the day you had moved into the bunker, you had finally decided it was time to start decorating your personal space with some things that brought you joy.

A beautiful quilt in your favourite colour with embroidered details and matching pillow cases lined your bed. Underneath, a one thousand thread count sheet was tucked into your mattress in a complimentary colour. The photo frame the Winchester brothers had given you for Christmas now sat on your beside table. As well as a small trinket box you had bought that matched the colour of your sheet set. Not really containing anything, but there just in case. You thought it was pretty.

All these things, minus the photo frame, you had bought with the fake credit card Sam had set you up with shortly after your arrival in the bunker. And all of them had been bought on sale, at very good prices, over Black Friday and Boxing Day. The room you occupied was certainly a little more homier now.

You crept quietly into the hall and headed the long way around to the mess room, avoiding the birthday boy's room by doing so. When you arrived at your destination, you were relieved to find neither Winchester was there.

Sam was no doubt already on his morning run. Something you had refused to do with him over the last week due to the temperature being too cold. He wouldn't be back for another thirty minutes, leaving you with plenty of time to set to work with no one watching you.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket along with your earphones and pressed play on your current favourite playlist. A mix of songs from various musicals and Disney films. Placing the ear buds in your ears, you set to work in the small kitchenette. You were going to attempt to bake a pie from scratch.

The pastry was the hardest to get right, not feeling the way the book described it. So it took a little longer than you had planned. But you still managed to have it assembled by the time Sam arrived home again in search of coffee.

You greeted him as you left to take a shower while the pie was baking. Asking the younger sibling to make sure his older brother didn't touch the oven if he happened to see him. That elicited a laugh from Sam, as he knew too well, it was something Dean would do.