Work Text:
'Ouch... My wrists hurt... My head hurts... What's that smell?'
You open your eyes to see a dimly lit room. There is straw and chopped wood scattered along the ground, morbid looking tools line the walls, honestly, it looks like something out of a horror movie.
How did this happen.... What the last thing you remember? Um....
The door opens slowly, light peeking into the room with a squeak. A large body stands in the doorway, this Sasquatch happens to be your mate, Sam. He holds a tray in his hand and a smile on his face. You slowly sit up, instantly regretting it as your head feels like it's gonna explode.
"Ugh, it feels like my head is gonna explode." You whine, laying back against the headboard.
"Head colds will do that." Sam sighs, sitting on the edge of your bed "I brought Dean's famous kitchen sink soup. Works every time." He sets the tray down on your lap.
"Thanks, Sam." You try to smile, but the sniffles that followed didn't make it very eloquent.
His large hand gently stroked your cheek as his eyes locked with yours. You both watched each other for a moment before he began to lean in. God, you really wanted to kiss him.
"Nope." You frown, putting your hand over his mouth "I am not going to let you catch this shit.
You can feel his smirk underneath your hand. He nods and pulls your hand away before leaning in again, but this time kissing your forehead. He looked at you one last time before getting up and walking away, shutting the door behind himself.
You eyed the food once before setting it off to the side. You needed sleep.
You lay back down, hoping, praying that this cold passes soon. It's already been three days in hell.
**********
"DEAN!" A low, angered voice yells through the hall.
The older brother comes running down the hall, slowing to a jog as he reached the door "What's wrong?"
Sam combed his fingers through his hair as he paced back and forth "It's (Y/N). She's gone."
Dean could see the anger and fear in his eyes. He knows how much you mean to Sam, and the lengths he would go to to protect you. Sam started to growl, and a realization hit Dean, Sam could go feral. It's happened before when they were younger before they met you. It's what made John realize Sam was stronger than he looked, and that he would make a good alpha, which was just another reason on the laundry list of why they never got along.
"Sam, take a deep breath," Dean grumbled, not wanting to see Sam like that again.
Sam ignored Dean as he paced faster "We have to find her." He finally growled, stopping a ways away from Dean.
"And we will, but first you gotta breath. You won't accomplish anything if you are an angry, growling mess." Dean put a hand out towards Sam in defense.
Sam took a deep breath and walked past Dean towards the library "So what all do we know?" Dean asked.
"I saw her this afternoon. I took her some soup and medicine for her cold. That was at around 7:30. I came back and checked on her a few minutes ago."
Dean's eyes scan his watch and a sigh escapes his mouth "That is about 4 hours unaccounted for."
"Any son of a bitch could have taken her." Sam growls, death gripping the chair.
"I'll go investigate the room. You see if there's any broken devil's traps or anything." Sam nods and turns, stopping when Dean puts a hand on his shoulder "We'll find her, Sammy."
"For the poor bastard who took her sake, I hope we find her soon." Sam smirked and went to go check the exits.
**********
"Ha... Ha... You don't have shit." You reply breathily as a knife slices against your collar.
Luckily your cold had, for the most part, subsided, messily spitting it out at this guy made you feel a hell of a lot better. Of course, it was some guy that had a problem with the Winchester brothers, and you were supposed to be bait. It's the most cliche plot in the history of plots.
"Your mate, that freaking idiot, killed my sister!" He yelled, plunging another knife into your thigh.
You scream out in pain, praying Sam comes soon. Hopefully, he would find the trail you left.
*********
Dean walked into your room, taking a quick sniff and pacing around. He could smell someone else, though it was brief. He began looking around your room when he realized your phone was not in there. You had your cell on you.
"No leads. You?" Sam sighed, Dean, rushing out of the room just as Sam arrived.
"She has her phone on her!" He yelled, opening the laptop, Sam jogging in after him.
"You can track it?" Sam asked, getting a little anxious...
Dean continued typing for a moment before he got a big grin on his face "Yup. North Transit road. Come on." He belted his pistol and started up the stairs, Sam only a step behind.
************
You are woken by a vigorous shaking, your mates' name rolling off of your tongue.
"Only in your naughty dreams, honey." The guy chuckles, twirling a blade around in his fingers.
You can feel the blood dripping down your temple, and you are sure your shoulder is dislocated. There is a blade sticking out of your thigh, luckily it missed anything major. When Sam sees you like this, this guy isn't gonna have a chance.
"Where are Sam and Dean?" The man asked, circling you like a shark does its prey. "Honestly I figured they'd be here by now, I'm getting kinda bored."
Sam and Dean were in fact in the Impala, within close vicinity of the barn. Sams breathing is rapid, he's having a hard time not getting out and running to you, guns blazing and teeth bared. However, he knows that the safest option is to stay calm, but knowing you are hurt is killing him. He is seething, fighting at the bit to go ham on this guy, to rip his throat out of his neck with his teeth and strut victoriously before his mate. No, that wouldn't fix anything, but that's what his mind came back to. Every time. Sam continues to make constant pleas with Dean to drive faster, but Dean is already driving full speed.
You yell out in pain as you receive another well-aimed slash across your stomach. Honestly, it's surprising you're not holding your innards in your lap. Your breaths are rapid and shallow, you can't catch your breath. Perhaps he finally cut a lung, or maybe your fear is finally getting to you. I guess the world will never know.
He is about to slash you again when something stops him, the sound of a car pulling up to the barn. He smiles and steps back, looking through the window, then back at you.
He opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted when the door is kicked open, two familiar faces rushing in. Sam's eyes immediately jump to you, your eyes catching for a moment before something inside him snaps.
You can see a glow of anger in his eyes, his pupils blown and filled with rage. His breaths were shallow and labored as he stood in the doorway, first looking to you, then to the man next to you. You could see the panicked look on Dean's face from behind Sam. Dean could tell what was going on, and so could you. His alpha scent was heightened, and you could see him obviously puffing out his already muscular chest, his instincts as an Alpha has kicked in.
A low snarl escapes his throat as he quickly attacks the man, shoving him violently against the wall. Sam took no time in tearing into him, ripping him to shreds. Almost instantly blood and flesh were thrown left and right, splattering against nearby shelves and walls.
While Sam was occupied, Dean ran over to you, untying you and looking you over for serious injuries. "Dean.... Sam, is he...?" You couldn't find a way to finish the sentence since the idea is considered almost taboo in today's society.
"Yea, I figured you would be able to smell it. He almost went feral looking for you, I'm honestly surprised he was able to hold out so long." He sighs, undoing the last know that held you down.
"Does this happen a lot?" You ask, moving to stand.
Dean is about to answer but stops when he looks at you and quickly stands, backing from you with his hands up in surrender. You turn to see Sam, standing over the dead body of your tormentor. He is still in his feral state but is now covered in blood and growling at Dean to back down. Truth be told if not for his jacked mental status you would be totally turned on right now.
"Sam." You try to get his attention away from Dean, which is a success, but now he's looking at you.
He lets out a low growl as he begins approaching you, his eyes scanning over you as he takes in your scent. He can smell your blood, however, he also smells the one thing he needs, his mate. His hand meets your hip as his nose nestles into your neck, taking a deep whiff of your hair.
"Sam, you need to snap out of this. I know you're in there. Come on. Let's go home." You try to coax him from his trance, sugar coated words rolling off your tongue.
He lets out another low growl as his other hand grabs your injured arm, and he licks some of the blood off of your bicep. His eyes locking with your again. He stares at you for a moment before you see his eyes begin to relax again.
"Sam." You smile, lifting your free hand to cup his jaw, with a small wince.
"(Y/n)." He whispers, resting his forehead against yours.
"Damn, you must really be special." A low voice comes from behind you, Dean. "That's probably the fastest I've ever seen him come out of that." He smirked, resting a hand on Sam's shoulder.
"I did it again, didn't I?" He sighed, looking around the barn at the destruction his fight had made in the place.
"You never did answer my question, Dean." You add, both of you looking to the older brother.
He signs, resting a hand on his hip "It doesn't happen a lot, but it has happened before. When he was about 17 or so he did it then too. Dad about had a panic attack when he saw Sam full presented as a feral alpha. The way he tore into that vamp gang that tried to jump us was honestly kinda frightening. Took forever to get him back down." Dean grabbed his gun and belted it again, turning towards the door.
"I'm glad we found you." Sam smiled down at you.
You hugged him tightly, burying your head into his chest. He hugged you back, tight enough for it to become painful, but you wanted nothing more than his warmth right now.
"Come on, let's head back. (Y/n) is gonna need some stitches and her shoulder popped back into place." Dean smirked, walking out of the room, leaving you and Sam behind.
"Oh goody." You groan, stepping to walk away when pain shoots through your leg like a thousand swords.
"I've got ya." He says as he wraps your good arm around his neck to support you.
"Thanks, Sammy."
"Of course, babe."