Skulking around like you were some lowlife trying to get some small time cash from someone was not a good look on you, especially since you were subtly following Dean and Sam.

Evidently not enough though.

Dean could see your figure from the cot or of his eye, his jaw setting as he felt a spike of anxiety and frustration in his chest, making his hands feel all tingly.

He whispered something to Sam, seeming as if his tone was urgent and firm since Sam looked at him with a confusion, words on the tip of his tongue but ultimately deciding against it since he new he shouldn’t rebel.

When Sam and Dean turned a corner, you followed— obviously. Right into their trap like a fat kid following a piece of candy on a fishing lure, the line continuously getting pulled away.

He immediately pulled you towards him with force, not caring for your much for you gender at the moment— not as if he could tell anyways. You were dressed with a hoodie with the shadow of the hood covering your facial features.

Pinning your arm behind your back, his knee pressing into the back of your thigh while his freehand held his engraved handgun, pressing the metal to the side of your head.

“You better come with us or I swear to god I’ll blow you a friggin’ new one,” I growled out, talking straight into your ear in the dingy alley.

What he didn’t know was that you were just some regular person being intimidated and threatened to get information on the Winchester brothers— or whoever that was. It wasn’t like you knew them, you just wanted to survive.