It had been three hours since you parents arrived at the bunker, and there had already been two threats from your father. He asked many times about the bunker’s protection, and warding.
“Dad, this place is completely safe,” you assured your father. “The Men of Letters know what they were doing.”
“Men of Letters?” your mother asked.
“They were a secret society, that focused of the supernatural,” Dean explained.
“I see,” your mother said, “Where are they now?”
“They are gone now,” you replied. “They died out a while ago.”
“Oh.”
Your father took a sip out of his almost empty beer. He was sitting at the library table. You, Dean, and your mother were also sitting at the long table.
“So Mom,” you started. “How long are you going to stay? We have a place for you two to sleep tonight.”…show more content… He began to stitch up your shoulder. You grimaced, but kept still.
“Bit more warning next time Dean?” you asked through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m going to dig a needle in your bullet wound, and stitch it together,” he said sarcastically. You glared at him, as he started the next stitch. By, the third stitch you were ready to sleep for a week.
Dean wrapped it with bandage, and left the room. He returned moments later with a new shirt for you to wear. He helped you put the shirt on, and was careful not to touch the new bandage.
“Food’s in the car,” you slurred.
“Okay sweetie,” you mother said, nodding.
“I’m gonna go sleep,” you muttered. You stood up, and black spot invaded your vision. After ten seconds, it passed.
“Do you need some help Y/N?” you father asked.
“No, I’m fine,” you slurred. You walked towards your room. You stumbled once, but you caught yourself of the stone wall. Dean followed you the entire way, just a few feet away. When you got to the bed, you flopped onto it.
Dean stood in the doorway, leaning on the door frame. “I love you,” Dean said.
