Work Text:
Red, blue, green, brown, white. You noticed the colors splattered across your jeans as you pulled them from the laundry. With a groan, you set them into the basket to put away and began to walk back to your room. Sam smiles as you walk past and you get a small wave from Dean. You can feel Sam's eyes scan over your basket as you walk by, but he doesn't say anything.
The boys respect your privacy, which is nice. They never come into your room without asking, Dean usually tells you to go to the library instead of going in. You're sure at one point he said something about "women stuff" or whatever, who knows what that man is thinking.
You were an art major before the boys found you. You loved everything related to art; music, painting, ceramics, literature. Though you had taken more of a liking to the painting. You had some ceramics supplies, but it was hard to do without a proper kiln or glazes.
You enter your room to the familiar smell of art. Acrylics, oil paints and pastels, clay, glue, it was a long time coming but you finally made your room smell like home. It really sucks to be creative and not have a medium to express it. On hunts, you had a doodle journal, but at home was where you could really let it rip. Canvasses lined the walls, some covered with paint, some only half done, and the last remaining few still open to new ideas.
Your artistic lifestyle did come with some cons, however. Like your pants, for example, acrylic paint leaves very colorful stains that are very hard to get out. Also the fact that you try to hide it from the boys. It's not like it would be a bad thing if they knew, but who knows what kind of crap you would get if they knew that you liked to paint.
After putting away your clothes, you quickly throw your flannel aside and pull your hair into a ponytail. The canvas sits in front of you, a sky with pink sunset clouds sits before you, begging for land to shine down on. You are about to put brush to canvas when a knock stops you.
With a groan you get up and open the door, hiding the painting behind the cracked door. "What's up Sam?" You try to force a smile, but your voice comes out a bit more agitated than intended.
"Hey. Found a case. We're headed out in ten. Should I make it fifteen?" He asks, eyeing you warily.
"Ten is fine." You sigh and close the door, letting your hair down as you grab your bag.
********
A few days later you are walking into the hospital room of a witness. His arm is wrapped in a cast and his face is tore up pretty bad.
"Excuse me, Mr. Franco? Do you have a moment?" Dean asked as you three enter the small hospital room.
"I'm kinda tied to the bed here, so I'd say I have plenty." He jokes, making you smile.
"I'm agent Flag, These are my associates' agents Jones and Moone." Dean gestured to Sam and you respectively. "We wanted to ask you a few questions about the attack."
(If you can tell me where that reference is from without Google I will love you forever.)
"Are you a sketch artist?" He asked to you after he noticed the notebook under your arm.
You smiled, trying to hide the 'ah crap' in your head "Yes sir." You nod, opening the notebook and grabbing a pencil from your pocket. "What can you tell me about him?"
"He was short, probably only 5'4 max. He had a really square face and short black hair, but the bangs were long and came down over his eyebrows. He had kind of Asian looking eyes, you know what I mean?" He asked you, making sure you were keeping up.
You nodded, keeping your book turned so that the boys couldn't see. "Where his eyes any weird colors? Like black for example?"
"No, I think they might have been like blue or hazel." He stops and watches you nod before continuing. "He had a long skinny nose and there was a scar over the right nostril. He had a big mouth, like really wide and his lips were big too. I know this sounds really funky but-"
"It's alright. I just need you to recall what he looks like. Did he have any other features that you remember?" You ask as you add some details to his lips.
"Um, just that he was pretty built. I mean he was a strong guy especially if he was able to throw me around the way he did." He shrugs and settles back into the bed.
You smile and hook your pencil to the binding of the notebook before turning it towards him. You were kind of proud of this sketch, perhaps you would add it to your collection of portraits.
"Yea, that's him! That's the guy. Good job." He smiled as you closed the book.
"Thank you. And thank you for the description. We will begin the search as soon as possible. You have a nice day." He nodded as you headed for the door, the boys following.
"Can I see it?" Dean asked as soon as you left the room.
"I'd rather you not. I'm not that good." You tried to hide it. You really didn't want them to see.
"Not true. I've seen you drawing before, it's pretty good." Sam smiled as he matched his stride to yours.
"Fine." You can't help but sigh as you hand the book over to the younger Winchester just as you come out of the doors of the hospital.
Dean walks over to Sam and looks as they open the book to the page with the sketch. Dean's eyes go wide as he looks at it then at you. Sam smirks as he looks at your scribbled notes down the side about his height and build.
"Dude, this is awesome." Dean smiles as he scans the page again. "How come you never show us any of these drawings?"
You begin to blush unintentionally "I-I don't know. It's just never really come around." Sam closes the book and hands it back to you. You sheepishly grab it as the boys go to their respective doors and you all climb inside the Impala.
"Well, thanks to you we know what this guy looks like, which is a major help." Sam smiles back at you as you all head back to the motel.
******
You sit on the bed, back propped against the wall and your knees are pulled up as a makeshift back for your notebook to sit on as you draw. Sam sits at the cheap motel table, his laptop in front of him. A few books are scattered around him as well, though his eyes, for the most part, stay on the screen.
Though he doesn't know, he has been the muse for your art for the last half hour while Dean was out talking to the sheriff. You have a very detailed sketch of Sam in his natural habitat, a book in his lap and a computer in front of him as his fingers type away on that damned keyboard. You are now working on the shading, trying to bring out the natural light coming in through the window behind him. Between that window, the screen, and the light above, you were getting some great shading opportunities.
It wasn't for another ten minutes that Sam finally noticed you glancing between your notebook and him. He watched you for a moment, noticing that you had long abandoned the book you were looking at before. It took you a moment to realize that he was watching you, a blush spreading across your face when you realize you've been caught.
"What are you drawing now?" He asked as he took the book off of his lap so he could talk to you and not accidentally dump it on the floor.
"Nothing." You quickly reply, pulling the book to your torso so that he wouldn't see.
Sam couldn't help but chuckle at how flustered you were. "Why didn't you tell Dean and I that you could draw? I know you might not think so, but that drawing back there was amazing, and it was really realistic and accurate to what he was saying."
You blush even more, if that was possible, and try to force a smile on your lips which turns more nervous than you hoped. "I just thought you guys would make fun of me." You whispered quietly, but apparently not quiet enough.
"Why would we do that? Everybody has their thing. I mean I like to read, work out, and maybe watch Netflix. Dean likes to watch old Western movies and work on cars. If you like to draw or whatever, what right do we have to make fun of you for it?" Sam pressed a small smile to his lips as he stood and walked over to you and sat next to your feet.
"I don't know why, but it's not just you guys. I've never really been too confident about showing others my art. I was actually an art major when you guys found me. Art majors aren't exactly looked up to." You stifle a laugh at the face Sam pulls in his disapproval.
"May I?" He asked and pointed to the book.
With shaky fingers, you nod and hand him the book. He smiles and opens it as you swivel to sit next to him, his eyes scanning the first page of the book. A park bench with grass peeking up from the legs of the chair sits in the middle of the page. He flips to the next page which is covered in small sketches of different flowers. Roses, daisies, tulips, carnations, you name it and it's probably there.
Your eyes are no longer following Sam's on the pages but instead are on Sam himself. You are trying to gauge his reaction. Is he genuinely enjoying them, or is he just trying to be nice? You glance back down to see he is on a picture you drew just the other day on your drive here. It's your view from the back seat of the Impala. The leatherback seat, the boys' heads turned away, Dean's eyes reflected in the rearview mirror, Sam on his cellphone, and a lot of empty road in front of them.
"So you draw us too?" He asks, turning to face you.
It wasn't until now that you realized how close you were, you must have slowly leaned closer as you were watching him. "Uh, yea." You stutter as you slide back a bit. "Sometimes."
"This one is really cool." He smiles and continues to look at it. "The detail you put into this is crazy amazing."
"Well, I had four hours to do it." You joke, earning a laugh from the younger Winchester.
He flipped the page again to see the sketch from the hospital was ripped out since you gave it to Dean. The next picture was the one you were still working on of Sam. Your face flushed with embarrassment as he went wide-eyed.
"You were drawing me?" He asked and turned to you, noticing your increasing shyness.
You look away but are brought back by his rough hand resting gently on yours. A small smile is on his face, comforting you a little as he glances back at the book.
"This looks amazing (y/n)."
"I'm not quite done yet." You smile.
"Do you want to finish it?" He asks as he hands the book back to you.
"I can do that later." You lie. In all honesty, you want to get it done before the lighting changes so you can get the shading right, but you didn't want to inconvenience him.
"Are you sure? I don't mind, and I would love to see what it looks like when it's done." He smiles and stands, looking down at you with excitement glistening in his eyes.
"If you don't mind..." You sigh as you go back to your spot and Sam slides back into his.
"Do I need to do anything special or...?" He led off, not sure of what to do.
"Just keep doing what you were doing. You don't need to hold still or anything." You smile as he sets the book back on his lap and resumes typing.
"It's a little different when you know someone's drawing you." He chuckled, making you smile. "I'm so nervous I'm gonna mess it up now."
"Don't be self-conscious, just relax. You look amazing anyway." You smile at him before continuing. "Besides, I'm the one who should be nervous. I have to make it look extra good now that I know you will see it when it's done."
"It will look amazing, even if you don't think it does." He stops for a moment and turns his head to look at you. "Do you do any other art stuff? Like photography or anything like that?"
"I've done just about everything. Photography, drawing, painting, ceramics, woodworking, music, writing, sewing, and that's just the beginning. I've always loved making stuff, though not all of it was as successful as I had hoped." You chuckle as you remember back to when you tried to make a dress in high school and it failed horribly.
"Is that why I noticed all of those paint stains on your jeans the other day when you were doing laundry?"
"Yea. It gets messy. I've tried setting aside a separate outfit just for doing art stuff so my clothes don't get ruined, but I get inspired to paint at the most random times and I forget to change before I start." You continue adding some shading, noticing how defined the features in his face really are.
"That's really cool. I would love to see some of this stuff if you're okay with showing me." He smiled reassuringly, which was highly contagious and made you grin as well.
"I'd like that. I'll show you the studio I built in my bedroom." You joke as you continue the drawing.
*******
"I'm home." Dean calls quietly, wondering if anyone else is still awake.
"Hey man." Sam nods from the table.
"Hey. Is (y/n) sleeping?" Dean asks as he sets his keys on the table.
"Yea. Hey, Dean come look at this." Sam gestured to the book as Dean walked over to him.
"Is that (y/n)'s sketchbook?" He asked as he started skimming through it.
"Yea, she let me look through it."
"These are really good. Why did she never say anything to us?" He asked as he took the book and sat down across from Sam.
"Apparently she thought we would make fun of her for it. She has no confidence in her art, but according to her she does a lot of it and hides it." Sam sighs, closing his laptop and running his hand down his face.
"She thought we would make fun of her for this? Why? Does she really think would do something like that?" His brow furrowed as he glanced over at your sleeping figure.
"I guess she used to get teased all the time. She seems a bit more comfortable after we hung out for a while. Apparently, she has a bunch more back in the bunker." Sam watched the pages as Dean flipped through them.
"Did she just do this one?" He asks as he shows Sam the page that depicts him at the table.
"Yea. I caught her when she was about halfway done. That's when we started talking about it." He smiled, thinking back to how cute you looked when you were flustered.
"It's awesome. I hope she does one of me at some point." Dean smirked as he closed the book and passed it back to his brother before standing. "Tomorrow we can go gank the son of a bitch and head home. I miss my bed." He groaned as he twisted to pop his back before heading to the bathroom.
*********
You stood in front of your bedroom door, nerves on high as the boys came down the hall. You still didn't know why you were nervous, it's not like you were revealing a giant secret you had kept ever since you met them. Oh, wait...
"You don't have to if you don't want to (y/n). I know this is a big thing for you." Sam smiled and rested a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"No, it's okay. You guys should see this." You force a smile and grab the doorknob, opening it and stepping aside so the boys could enter.
Their eyes go wide when they enter, scanning the room in shock. There are shelves in the opposite corner covered in paints and ceramic bowls you have thrown but haven't gotten around to firing. Brightly colored canvasses are scarred along walls and in piles, your most recent and still unfinished one is still up on the stand. There are papers taped to your walls that come together to create a large mural of lead on your wall. The mural depicts everyone's favorite car, the Impala. Sam, Dean, Cas, and yourself are all seated inside as the car speeds down a vacant highway. Your desk is covered in papers and notebooks, a few folders being used as makeshift portfolios are stacked there as well.
"Wow (y/n)." Is all you get out of the awestruck older Winchester as he eyes the large makeshift mural on the wall.
"This is amazing (y/n). You made all of these?" He asks as he gestures to your bowls on the shelves.
"Yea, but I haven't had the chance to properly fire them yet. They are only air dried right now." You smile and stand in the doorway, watching them as they wander your room.
"Can I look through these?" Dean asks as he makes his way to your desk.
"Sure." You smile and walk over to him, spreading out the binders. "This one is sketches, this one is watercolor, and this one is photography."
Dean nods and grabbed your sketch binder, pulling out the chair and sitting down before opening it. Sam comes over and joins him, opening the binder filled with watercolor paintings.
After a few minutes they had seen all three binders and we're walking over to where you had sat on the bed, your phone in hand as you scrolled through something or other to keep you occupied.
"Hey, what's this?" Sam asks as he looks at your half-finished painting.
"Landscape. I've yet to finish, but hopefully, I'll get it done soon." You smile as the boys a beaming with happiness.
"This stuff is beautiful. I'm so glad you showed us this." Dean pulls you into a tight hug, your head burying into his shoulder.
You nod with a small 'mmhm' as he let's go and Sam pulls you into a similar hug. His hug is a bit warmer, perhaps because of how much more of him there is to wrap around you. Your head is pressed into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat. Dean pats your shoulder as he leaves the room to you and Sam.
"This stuff is amazing (y/n). Almost as amazing as the person who made them." You can't help but blush at his words.
"That was really cheesy." You laugh nervously, making him smile.
"Cheesy but true." He smirked as he kissed your forehead, a wave of calm washing over you.
"Thank you, Sam." You smile as he takes your hand.
He smiles and quietly grabbed the door, holding it open so that you can pass. His eyes scan the room one last time before he turns off the lights, taking in the view. The door closes slowly behind him, your giggling echoing throughout the hall as you go to join Dean in the kitchen.