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book-place · 1 year

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Where You Lead

Warnings: mentions of fighting, hunting, weapons and violence, drinking, hints of parental abuse and neglect, cursing, injuries and blood, gunshots wounds, mentions of death let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Ever since you first came home from the hospital, you and Dean had an unbreakable bond

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Where You Lead I Will Follow by Carole King

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Loving you the way I do

“This is your baby sister, Y/n,” This might be the first time since his mother was alive that Dean had heard his fathers voice be as soft as it was.

“Can I hold her? Please, can I hold her?” Sam begged, bouncing up and down on his toes in anticipation.

“Dean gets to hold her first, Sam,” John scowled slightly, “We talked about this already.”

The- now middle- Winchester sibling stopped jumping immediately and dropped his head slightly, “Sorry,” He mumbled, kicking his shoe slightly against the motel ground.

As gently as humanly possible, nine year old Dean gingerly held you in his arms, supporting your head the way your father had shown him before gazing at you in wonder.

You tossed and turned a little bit in the hospital blanket that was wrapped securely around you, before you blinked your eyes open slightly.

Instead of screaming and crying like he expected you to do, you just stared up at your older brother in the same amazement that he looked over you with; and that amazement soon melted into full adoration on his features.

“Is it my turn yet?” Sam whined, and John finally relented with a small huff.

The hesitation was visible on Dean's face, looking as if it pained him to pass you over to his little brother, something that escaped both Sam and John’s notice.

What John didn’t miss though, was the way his eldest son lingered near you and Sam, looking ready to spring forward at any moment and save you should Sam accidentally drop you.

“She’s fine, Dean, quit hovering.” John told his son gruffly. But for the first time in his life, the boy didn't snap at attention to scramble and do what his father had said. For the first time, he pretended as if he didn’t hear the man as he continued to stare down at you.

I know we’re gonna make it through

“I’ll be back in a couple days, don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.” John warned with a small glare before turning on his heel and exiting the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean let out a small breath, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat on Sam’s lap on the crammed couch, both of you engrossed in the cartoon before you.

It had been two years since you were born, and Dean was yet to hear his fathers voice grow soft again, even around you. In fact, John began to try and distance himself from you as much as he could.

He had once confessed to Dean when he was almost black out drunk that it was because he had a child with a woman who wasn’t Mary, and while he and Sam could remind him of his late wife, you did no such thing.

It wasn’t your fault of course, and Dean knew that. He knew that it wasn’t fair for your father to distance himself from you for something you couldn’t control, which would inevitably affect you one way or another eventually.

He walked over to the couch before plopping down onto the small cushion beside the two of you and held out his arms, “Giver ‘er here, Sammy.”

The boy did so, and you giggled slightly at being passed around. You looked up at Dean with a wide smile before turning your attention back to the screen.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he watched over his two siblings, both who were completely oblivious to the fact that John had only left a few cans of food in the room and a very limited amount of money without the certainty of when he would return.

He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. He was going to get you all through this, just like he always did.

And I would go to the ends of the earth

“We asked for a parent or guardian of Y/n Winchester.” The principal raised a single eyebrow as he spoke, eyeing the clearly high school level student.

“I’m her older brother,” Dean grunted with narrowed eyes, “Isn’t that good enough if our father can’t make it?”

The older man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, fine. We should get this started, then.” He then beckoned with his hand for you and one of your classmates to come into his office.

You shuffled in, eyes lighting up when you spotted Dean and you hurriedly squealed, rushing over and jumping into his arms, “Hey, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss in your hair.

“What is this about?” The mother of your classmate demanded, shooting daggers at you and your brother from where she sat in a chair a couple feet away.

“I’m afraid we are going to have to suspend the two of them,” The principal spoke.

A look of bewilderment came over Dean's features, “S-suspend? For what? She’s five!”

“Even so, they both must be held accountable for their actions.”

“Which was what, exactly?” He demanded, grip tightening around you protectively.

“The two of them got into a small fight and disrupted the class.” He informed him and the other mom.

“That’s outrageous!” Said mother shrieked, jumping to her feet, “My daughter would never get into a fight!”

“She hit me, I didn’t do anything,” You mumbled into Dean's ear, and he felt his anger begin to boil in his blood.

“Y/n didn’t do anything,” Dean stated, a venomous glint in his eyes as he stared down the mother and the principal.

“Oh?” The woman screeched, whirling around and pointing a finger at him, “And how did you figure that out?” She hissed.

“Because she told me she didn’t,” He said plainly.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if he just said the most idiotic thing she’d ever heard, “And how do you know you can believe her?”

Dean stood up immediately, you still clutched to his chest as he glared right back at the older woman, “Because she isn’t lying.” He told her with a dangerous tinge in his tone before simply turning on his heel and striding out of the office.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his shirt, “Thanks, De.” You whispered.

'Cause, darling, to me that's what you're worth

“What the hell is this?” John snapped with a glare, picking up a doll that had gently been set on the table.

Dean swallowed, eyes flitting over to your sleeping form on the bed beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily.

You hadn’t meant to, and Dean knew that. You were only eight, you hadn’t meant to wander out the store with the doll in your grip as if it was already yours and not something you had just picked up off the shelf.

He had been too preoccupied to even notice until the two of you got home, and he had sighed as he watched your eyes fill with tears and your bottom lip wobble as you stared up at him after telling you that it would have to be taken back.

Reluctantly, he had given in and decided that it wouldn’t even matter if you brought it back now, so he had said he would let you keep it this one time if you never did it again.

Of course, Dean couldn’t tell his father that, then he would be angry at you. And your older brother always did everything in his power to shield you from that side of John.

“I-I took it, sir.” Your older brother cleared his throat, glancing up at his fathers raging form, “I wanted to get her a toy to have.”

The older man let out a loud scoff, rolling his eyes, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because sh-she needs toys,” He tried to sound as confident as he could without his voice wavering again. You needed him, he would not give you up like that, “I thought she needed toys.” He was more confident this time.

John dropped the doll carelessly to the ground with a snarl, “Next time,” He seethed, “Next time I catch you pulling any of this shit, there’s gonna be consequences.”

He was talking to Dean as if he weren’t seventeen years old. As if he were still just a child.

But the boy bit his tongue and nodded his head once, visibly relaxing once his father stomped out of the room. He looked back at you and let a small sigh loose, relieved that you hadn’t woken up.

Carefully, he pulled the blankets higher on your body that had slipped down from some tossing and turning.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Dude,” Sam spoke up, glancing away from his homework for a split second to give Dean a look, “She’s fine.”

The man immediately froze, stopped tapping his foot and snapped his head over to his younger brother, “What?”

“Y/n,” The younger boy's head was already facing the textbook again, “She just went out with a couple friends. You can stop stressing out, she's fine.”

Dean hadn’t even realized that he had eagerly been staring out the motel window, awaiting your return with about as much impatience as a toddler.

“I know that,” He shot back defensively, forcing his muscles to relax from his stiff, upright sitting position and relax against the back of the chair.

Sam looked up again, eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared under his hair, “Oh? You’re not staring at the parking lot as if she didn’t just leave five minutes ago?”

“No,” Dean grumbled, sinking down and crossing his arms over his chest.

A sigh left Sam’s lips, “She’s eleven, dude. And she’s just down the road if you need to get to her.”

“Or if she needs to get to me.” He hadn’t even thought as the words slipped through his lips.

There was a pause, “Yeah… yeah, if she needs to get to you, she can easily do it.” He reassured his older brother.

Despite the clear way the words were forced out, Dean still relaxed for real when he heard them, but didn’t move away from the window as he waited for you to return.

Anywhere that you tell me to

You shuffled through the door, head hung low as you dropped your backpack with a small ‘thud’ beside the table. Sam reached out and rubbed your shoulders comfortingly.

Dean looked over his shoulder from where he was preparing dinner, “Hey, sweetheart, hey Sammy-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of your defeated look and Sam’s pitying one, “What is it?” He immediately rushed out, “What’s wrong?”

You just sniffled slightly and crossed your arms over your chest, kicking at the floor.

“Sam?” He automatically turned his attention to the boy when you didn’t answer, “What’s wrong?” He demanded again.

John had just dropped the two of you off back at the motel after school before rushing off, saying that the hunt was not over even though he thought it had been.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and right as it did so, you took off towards the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you, leaving your brothers behind.

“Sam.”

“There’s this father-daughter dance going on for her grade,” He sighed, and it clicked into place right away for Dean.

“Dad couldn’t go?” He asked softly.

“He wouldn’t,” Sam corrected him angrily with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest, “He told her it was a waste of time.”

All at once, a blinding rage boiled up inside of Dean, one of the only times in his entire life that he was anything but scared of his father. For once, he hated the man.

His thoughts snapped back to the present though when he realized that you were still crying in the bathroom, and he immediately reeled his emotions in. You needed him more than he needed to be angry right now.

With a sigh, he crept over and gently knocked on the door after shooting a swift nod of thanks to Sam’s direction, “N/n?” He called softly, “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of silence before the man heard a slight click of a door being unlocked, and he didn’t hesitate to rush in.

Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot in a way that made Dean's heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Oh, n/n,” He cooed, sinking onto the ground beside you and pulling you to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly as you cried into his shirt.

He kept whispering comforting words in your ear until you were reduced to sniffles and hiccups that were an effect of after-sobbing.

“D-dad doesn’t want to go with me,” You choked out, clutching a handful of your brother's shirt tightly.

Dean sighed, unsure of what to tell you. Of whether or not he should lie and tell you that your father really did want to go, he was just busy. But he realized that you were now old enough to see right through that.

“I’ll go with you,” As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he hadn’t even given himself a second to process it before blurting it out loud.

You reeled back and stared up at him with wide eyes, “Wha-“

“I’ll go to the father-daughter dance with you,” He shrugged, “I know I’m not dad, but at least you’ll have someone to go with.”

Slowly, a large grin broke out onto your face and you threw yourself into his arms again, squeezing tightly as you let out an excited squeal, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He laughed, hugging you with the same amount of force, “My pleasure, sweetheart.”

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” Dean's eyebrows flew up in shock as the smell of alcohol filled his senses.

“Duh,” You slurred, stumbling slightly to stand upright as you made your way into the motel room, “Who else would I be? Bobby?”

“Are you… drunk?” He had to blink a couple of times to help his brain fully process what he was seeing. You, his baby sister, hardly fifteen years old, drunk out of your mind.

“Noo,” You whined, “God, get off my case.”

“Hey,” He stood up, arm wrapping around your waist automatically as you almost fell over your own feet, “Come on,” Gently, he led you over to sit down on the bed.

With a large sigh of relief, you fell onto your back and cuddled into the sheets, “Thanks, dad.” You mumbled.

Dean's eyes were practically bugging out of his head at this point. He swallowed thickly, “Y-you know I’m not dad, right?”

“Well not biololy-“ You paused with furrowed eyebrows, “Beeolog-“

“Biologically?” He filled in the missing word for you, unsure of where you were trying to go with this as he turned on his heel to get you a glass of water.

You snapped your fingers, pointing a lazy finger at him, “Bingo! You might not be my dad biologically, but you’re more of a father to me than John- John is.” Your head was nuzzling into a pillow by now.

He sputtered, practically dropping the glass before setting it down on the bedside table, “That-that’s not true.” He insisted, “You don’t think that.”

“Sober words are drunk thoughts,” You slurred before opening your eyes and pausing to think, “Wait… that’s not right…”

He sighed, picking up the water and coaxing you to sit up so he could give it to you.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dean told you softly, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

Even after you eventually drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t do so himself. Still trying to wrap his mind around what you said. About if you actually believed your own words.

I will follow where you lead

“Dean.” You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m old enough to go on a date.”

He scowled, sinking further into his chair with his arms crossed, “I disagree,” He grumbled.

“Of course you do,” You sighed before turning back to the bathroom mirror and checking your reflection one last time before stepping out.

“Do you have your gun?” He asked automatically. And if it were anyone else, you would have laughed. But this was your eldest brother, and you knew for a fact that he was dead serious.

“I don’t think I need-“

“Do you have your gun?” He demanded again, glowering from across the room.

“Yes, yes, I have my gun.” You reassured him, lifting up your handbag of where it was resting dramatically to further your point.

Silence rang out between the two of you for a moment, having your own mini stare down, before it was his turn to sigh and stand up before striding across the room to you.

He put his hands on each of your shoulders, looking you in the eye, “I just want what’s best for you.” He told you sincerely.

Your hands went up to gently grasp onto his wrists and squeeze, “I know that, De,” You spoke softly, “But you can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can try,” He replied stubbornly, cracking a smile when you snorted.

Taking your hands off of his, you moved your arms to wrap around his torso and pull him into a tight hug.

He was just about to return it when a knock rang through the room. Your date was at the door.

Slowly, you let go and looked up at your big brother with a smile.

If you're out on the road

“Where’s Sammy when you need him?” You groaned, dropping your head into your arms that rested against the table.

“Shut it,” Dean grumbled, “I can help you just as well as he could.”

You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling, “You’ve failed every math class you’ve ever been in, genius.”

“And who told you that?”

“Sam.” You said in a ‘duh’ tone.

Dean scoffed, “Well, Sammy’s a freaking liar.”

You rose your eyebrows and placed your head in your hand, waiting as his eyes raked up and down the paper.

“Well?” You asked after a few moments.

“Well, this is hard.” He snapped back.

You threw your hands up, “That's why I asked for help!”

He seemed to ponder something for a moment before putting the paper down tentatively, “Math was always stupid anyway. I don’t think it would hurt if you didn’t do this one assignment.”

“So, you’re admitting to not knowing how to do this?”

“…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“… fine, I failed every math class I’ve ever taken.”

Feeling lonely, and so cold

“You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine.” Dean muttered, not knowing if he was trying to reassure you or himself more as he put so much pressure on the gas that his foot had begun to hurt.

“D-Dean-“ You muttered from the passenger seat, lulling your head to the side to try and face him.

Quickly, he shushed you, doing everything in his power not to focus solely on the crumbled up shirt you were holding against your stomach to try and apply pressure to your wound. He knew if he focused on that for longer than a couple of seconds, he would abandon his mission of getting you straight to a hospital and try to take care of it on his own.

He knew his mind would kick into a protective, frenzy overdrive and he wouldn’t allow himself to wait until he arrived at his destination.

Of course, the one day Sam wasn’t feeling well enough to join the two of you on a hunt- one that was supposed to be so simple that Dean finally- begrudgingly- allowed you to come on, you had gotten shot in the stomach.

As soon as that had happened, everything about the hunt immediately flew as far from Deans mind as humanly possible, even letting the shooter get away in his panicked state as his brain switched to autopilot mode and he scooped you up and rushed you to the car.

Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was-

A violent cough raked through your body, making your older brother visibly flinch as he pressed down harder on the pedal, even if he was already going as fast as he could.

“You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart,” He muttered, harshly blinking away the tears that began to pool in his eye ducts.

All you have to do is call my name

“Dean?” You whispered into the darkness hesitantly.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” His eyes immediately snapped open and he flew out of the bed at your nervous tone.

He gently took ahold of each of your shoulders and blinked the sleep away from his eyes as they scanned your face through the darkness for any sign of distress.

“I-I had a nightmare…” You muttered weakly, feeling heat begin to spread to your cheeks as you averted your eyes from your elder brother.

“Oh,” He breathed out, relaxing only slightly when he realized that you were in no immediate danger, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He quickly wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest.

Your own arms snaked around him in return, burying your face in his chest and allowing him to rock both of you back and forth slightly as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Can I stay?” You whispered meekly, refusing to look him in the eyes from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

“Of course,” He answered without hesitation, keeping an arm wrapped around you as he gently led you to the bed.

As soon as you were both lying down and under the sheets, you cuddled into your older brothers chest and let out a little sigh of content, “Thank you, De.” You whispered sleepily.

“I have nightmares all the time too,” He whispered after a few moments of silence, “They got worse after you almost died on that hunt.”

You felt his arms tighten around you as he spoke, and you held on just as tight in return.

“We’re okay,” He spoke comfortingly, kissing the top of your head again, “We’re okay.”

And I'll be there on the next train

“I-I need help,” You spoke shakily into the phone, wrapping your free arm tighter around yourself as you spoke.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Came Dean's determined reply.

No, ‘I told you so’. No, ‘You made this mess, you can get out of it yourself’. No, ‘You shouldn’t have gone in the first place’. Just your selfless, loving brother who was willing to drop everything he was doing because you had made a mistake. Because you had insisted that you could finally go on a solo hunt despite his protests and pleas. Because he had been so scared of a repeat from the last time he had allowed you to go on a hunt. And even that time you were with him, this time you wouldn’t be.

And now you were in over your head and you needed your older brother to bail you out.

“Dean?” You sniffled slightly into your phone, “I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He spoke soothingly.

In the background, you hear the car start as if he had just been sitting in it waiting for your call.

You wouldn’t be surprised. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Sam’s gonna kill us ya’know.” You spoke, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

“What Sammy doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean replied calmly, leaning back against the couch cushions, eyes trained solely on the Scooby-Doo episode.

“We’re supposed to be researching lore about the case,” Even though you said it, you made no effort to turn off the television and go back to work.

“You and I both know that he’ll do all of it anyway,” He reminded you, “Might as well enjoy our time instead of wasting it.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips as you softly shook your head back and forth, folding your legs underneath you and entertaining your brother by watching his favorite show with him.

Anywhere that you tell me to

“How do you mess up making toast?” You yelled over the fire alarm.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know!” Dean's voice boomed back as he wildly jumped around with a towel while trying to fan the smoke out of the room.

Despite his protests, the alarms screeching didn't come to the halt you had hoped for. If anything, it seemed to get even louder.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens!” You scolded, “I swear, I feel like I’m the older one sometimes.”

“Just shut it and help me!” He snapped.

You sighed irritatedly, but grabbed a towel anyway and joined in on his efforts of stopping an almost inevitable fire.

It took a while- and a lot more screaming matches- before the alarm finally died down and the only thing that remained from the fire was the ringing in your ears, the faint smell of smoke, and a burnt beyond recognition piece of toast.

“Let’s… let’s not speak of this ever again.” Dean finally huffed out after catching his breath.

A wicked smile made its way onto your face at his words, “In your dreams,” You told him sinisterly.

His face dropped and he looked at you in horror, “Don’t you dare-“

“Oh, Sam,” You sang, practically dancing out of the room.

“Get back here!” The sound of thundering feet coming bounding after you made you squeal and pick up your pace.

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” You ferociously wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks when you door was knocked on, “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Dean.” You silently cursed yourself for the small crack in your voice as you spoke. Though you doubted it would even need to be there for your brother to know that something was wrong.

“I’m coming in,” He announced, waiting only a split second to see if you would protest before opening your door and immediately scanning his eyes over you to see what was the matter.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured gently, dropping down in front of where you sat on your bed once he realized you didn’t appear to be in any physical pain, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head when you were unable to speak, averting your eyes from his wide, concerned ones.

“Talk to me,” He pleaded softly. He hated when something was the matter that he didn’t know about, it absolutely killed him.

“It’s just-“ You choked out a small sob, “Why?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he unconsciously swiped a piece of hair from your face, “Why, what, sweetheart?”

Again, you shook your head, “I’m being so stupid-“

“Hey,” He gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him, “Anything making you upset is not stupid. Now what’s wrong?”

“Why can’t we just have a normal life?” His heart dropped, “Why did dad have to drag us into this? We’ve lost so many people because of what we do and I just don’t know if I can take it anymore-“

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you softly, immediately wrapping his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay, I know. Believe me, sweetheart, I know. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Dean.” You sniffled, pulling away and wiping your face with your sleeve.

“Still,” Tears began to form in his own eyes and he was forced to harshly blink them away, “I wish more than anything that you could have been spared from this. And I am so damn sorry that you weren’t.”

“I don’t want this for you either, Dean.” You told him softly.

He smiled sadly, “I know, sweetheart, I know. But at least we have each other.”

You were finally able to smile slightly at that, “Yeah, we do. Don’t we?”

I will follow

Humming lightly to yourself, you put the finishing touches on the dish before you and stepped back with your hands on your hips, proudly smiling down at it.

“N/n!” Dean's voice echoed through the halls, “I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” You echoed back, excitedly jumping to hide the plate behind your back just in time for him to enter.

He entered with a wide smile, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s-“ He froze and eyed you suspiciously, “What are you up to?”

Unable to even attempt to hide your eagerness anymore, you leapt to the side and dramatically put your arms out to the side, “Ta da!” You guestered to the plate you had previously been hiding.

A wide grin automatically broke out onto his face as he came scurrying over to the counter with childlike excitement, “Pie?” He practically squealed, “You made me pie?”

You nodded proudly, putting your hands on your hips.

He rushed over and scooped you in a long hug, spinning you around in a way that made you giggle, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He gushed while gently setting you down, “Have I ever told you that you’re the best sister ever?” He was already taking a fork and shoveling some of it into his mouth.

“I could do with hearing it more often.” You teased.

“You’re the best sister ever!” He cheered, devouring the dessert happily.

Where you lead

The steady rocking of the car did nothing to help your tired state, nor did the music softly drifting out of the speakers and filling the small space effortlessly.

Dean's eyes flitted over to you for a quick second, “You can go to sleep, it’ll be a couple more hours until we get there.” He told you softly.

You shook your head stubbornly despite the yawn you had to bite back, “I wanna stay up with you,” You murmured, unconsciously cuddling up against the seat.

“We had a long day, just get some rest.” He insisted in the same gentle tone.

Finally, you weren’t able to hold back your exhaustion any longer and you practically melted into the cushions, “Fine,” You mumbled, “But only for a few minutes.”

He laughed lightly, reaching over with one hand and ruffling your hair playfully, “Sleep well, sleepyhead.” He teased.

“I love you, De,” You whispered, eyes already drifting shut and your head lulling to rest against the window.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr @kiyomi-uchiha777

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of-many-aus · 1 year

Text

Reaper of Odds

Summary: It was the annual reaping, but the results weren’t what you had expected

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing, hints of neglectful parents, and mentions of drinking

A/N: Feel free to request for any one shots you would like to see in this series!

Masters of the Scene Masterlist

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Everyone stood shoulder to shoulder- if you could even call it that. It was more like shoulder to stomach with so many people packed into the small square.

There was almost no breathing room, it made your chest squeeze painfully and your lungs begin to tickle with the slightest bit of a burn.

It was safe to say that the only thing keeping you grounded in that moment was the small squeeze of reassurance that the boy to your left gave your hand. You grasped his hand back tightly, not caring how desperate you came off. His hand was the only thing keeping you grounded in that moment.

“Welcome, welcome, to the seventy fourth annual Hunger Games!” The woman- Rowena- spoke smoothly into the microphone upon a stage that made her look out of place against the bland concrete behind her. You could only imagine how she would look standing in the crowd with all of you.

“I have a feeling,” The red haired woman with too much makeup and too bright of a dress continued, “That it is going to be a very special year.”

Not a single person matched her enthusiasm.

“As always, may the odds be ever in your favor.” It must have taken years of practice for her to stare out at all of their tired, grief stricken faces and not once let her perfect smile falter, “Let’s begin with the girls.”

Deans hand tightened even more around yours when she spoke, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes.

His lips were set in a stern line and his eyes were hard, the complete opposite of how he looked whenever he was looking at you. It was almost starting to see the face you had grown so accustomed to look such a way.

To his other side stood his younger brother, Sam, who was slouched down as if that could hide him from the reality of the reaping. His eyes were wide and filled with a horror that would be enough to fuel your nightmares for a long time.

Though he was Deans little brother, he had always been like one to you too. He was always someone you felt you needed to look out for, take care of.

And the interesting thing about it was, it wasn’t just because you and Dean were together. The two of you had been best friends almost all your lives having grown up as neighbors, and even then, you still looked out for Sam as if he were your own.

It was only recently that you and Dean had finally admitted your feelings after years of hiding it. And though you were arguably in the most dangerous and difficult district to live in, you found yourself being happy. A rare feeling for any person in district twelve.

Of course, you knew the chances of any one of the three of you being picked were as slim as they come, but that didn’t stop your breath from catching in your throat as the woman onstage gracefully made her way to the large bowl on the side of her and fished out a single slip of paper.

On that paper would be the name of one doomed child, one forced to give up their life and everything it could have become, victor or not. No one ever truly won.

The woman cleared her throat when she got back up to the michrophone and made a spectacle of dramatically unfolding the paper, as if she was oblivious to the way every single person in the square was holding their breaths.

In a couple seconds, all but one person will let out their breaths of relief.

But then she did something she wasn’t supposed to do, Rowena read your name from the paper. Clear and crisp as day. Though there was absolutely no way she had read it wrong, you couldn’t help but desperately wonder if she had- if some sort of mistake had been made.

You stumbled backwards, even Dean's grip had loosened in shock at the news. He was staring up at the podium, frozen, barely looking like he was even breathing.

There was a ringing in your ears, sharp and painful, you couldn’t hear anything else but it. Not the horrified sobs of Sam, nor the impatient grunts of peacemakers who were making their way through the crowd when it became clear that you weren’t moving.

People all around parted from you like a plague, not offering a single hand to you as your knees gave out and you fell to the ground. You were too numb to even feel the sting upon impact.

The peacekeepers had finally surged through enough of the crowd to reach you. The closest one roughly grabbed your arm and yanked you to your feet. Your mind was too full to even comprehend the gesture, so you simply stumbled up and followed as he pulled you to the stage.

“Hey! Hey!” Dean finally snapped out of his trance, and a look of complete and utter rage washed over his face, “Let her go, you son of a bitch!”

A separate peacekeeper had to hold him back, but you still numbly made your way to the stage, giving no sign that you even noticed the outburst coming from the boy you loved.

“Now,” The lady smiled once you stood beside her, as if nothing had happened, “We shall draw from the boys.”

The peacekeeper holding you apparently deemed you safe enough to let go and took a step back, still close enough in case you had another episode.

Your eyes finally lifted to meet those of Deans, whose green eyes showed with unshed tears. He had stopped fighting, fallen silent and held a sobbing Sam to his chest.

An overwhelming smell of fruity perfume filled your senses when the woman returned, holding a folded slip of paper.

“Samuel Winchester!” She read happily.

No. No. No. No. No-

One of the local officials that were near the two Winchester boys moved to take Sam and push him onto the stage.

A furious scream left Dean's lips as he lunged towards the peacekeeper that wrenched his younger brother out of his grip, swiftly punching him in the face.

The official fell to the ground the second Deans fist hit his jaw, knocked out automatically.

You sank to your knees on the stage floor, hands cupping your mouth as you wept and wept.

The odds that were supposed to be near impossible not only brought you despair once- but twice.

Not Sammy, anyone but Sammy-

The boy was practically shoved into your arms, and you held each other close.

Suddenly, remembering the cameras that were directed at the two of you, no doubt having at least half of Panem watching, you shakily pulled both of you to your feet, keeping one arm wrapped securely around his shoulders.

Even through your panic and duress, one thought broke through all others: now that he was here, you needed to do everything in your power to keep Sam safe. If one of you was going to get out of this, it would have to be him, not-

“I volunteer!”

Your head snapped up to where Dean had shaken off the holds of the officers that had restrained him, his arm was raised straight in the air, eyes trained solely on you and Sam as his voice boomed through the square.

“I volunteer as tribute.” His voice was steady, calm, a stark opposite from how he had been acting a mere moment ago.

Sam sucked in a sharp breath and tensed up. He might have been horrified to be sent into that arena, but that didn’t mean he wanted his big brother taking his place.

Unlike you and Sam, Dean didn’t need an escort up stage, he simply strode forward with his chin held high and a look of determination set on his face.

The young boy was directed back into the crowd as Dean came to stand beside you, facing forward, but immediately grasping onto your hand with his own, interlacing your fingers and squeezing reassuringly.

“Well, this was an interesting experience,” Rowena laughed airily before swiping an arm to the side to present to you and Dean, “Our district twelve tributes, everybody!”

Instead of being met with applause like the woman had hoped, all she got were pitying looks directed at you and Dean, who still stood hand in hand, facing the people of your home district.

After clearing her throat, Rowena ushered the two of you off the stage and into some back rooms you knew would be where you were meant to say goodbye to your loved ones before you were shipped off to the capital.

“It’s okay, Honey Bee,” Dean muttered into your ear as you walked, “We’re going to be alright.” He squeezed your interlocked hand.

The two of you were sat down in a small back room and were told to wait while they let your families in.

Unsurprisingly, Sam was the only one to scurry through the door.

Your parents had died when you were young and Dean and Sam’s father, John, had been sulking in the back of the square, no doubt nursing a flask under his jacket and taking quick sips when no one was looking.

He hadn’t so much as make his presence known when not just one, but two of his sons were put on stage in front of the entire district, awaiting departure to their possible deaths.

Quickly, the younger boy threw his arms around his brother's torso and sobbed into his chest.

“I-I’m so-sorry-“

“Hey, hey, shh,” Dean shushed him, rocking the boy back and forth as he rubbed a comforting hand up and down his back, “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”

The boy was still sniffling when he pulled away after a few moments and fell into your arms. You just pushed his hair back from his eyes and gave his forehead a kiss, “It’s okay, Sammy, it’s okay.”

Neither of you said that you promised to come back, that was too big of a promise to make to the boy. Too much of a possibility that you wouldn’t.

“P-please watch out for each other,” The boy hiccuped when it was finally time to leave, giving his big brother one last hug.

“Of course we will, Sammy.” Dean mumbled, closing his eyes briefly as he held his little brother tightly.

He pulled away after a moment and looked at the boy sternly, holding him at arm's length, “If you ever need anything, I want you to go to Jody. She’ll look after you.”

Jody was also your neighbor, and the woman had been kind enough to take you in after your parents passed. She never failed to take care of you or either of the Winchester boys. She wasn’t family though so she hadn’t been allowed in with Sam.

The boy nodded, rubbing a dirty sleeve over his nose.

“And Sam?” You swallowed, “Will you tell her that I said thank you? For-For everything?”

His eyes filled with tears once more at your words, but nodded again nonetheless.

“Alright, we best be going.” Rowena entered the room, clapping her hands and perfectly manicured nails together once.

Dean squeezed Sam’s shoulder once more, “I love you, okay?”

“I love you too,” Sam mumbled, glancing at you as well so you knew he included you with that.

Your heart clenched with pain at the thought of leaving the boy, but not as much as it did if he had been with you.

Instead, you were now faced with having to go into a fight to the death with your boyfriend by your side. A fight that will take one of you away from the other.

And just as you had promised yourself with Sam, you would make sure Dean made it out alive. He needed to survive more than you did- he had so much more to live for. He had a family, you did not.

“Let’s go,” You said quietly, taking Dean's hand in yours and following Rowena out of the room.

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marvelwitchergilmore · 2 years

Text

Childhood Crush

Summary; Dean Winchester x Fe!OC -> Dean and Zoey grew up together, they lived across from one another when they were children and their dad's hunted together. But when time begins to move on, and they begin to see each other over and over and over again, will something grow from what they once knew?

Warning; FLUFF, spn hunts, spn level violence, fade to smut, love, swearing, long fic etc.

Dean and Zoey had known each other since they were 2 years old. Of course, she had only been a baby at the time, but same difference.

They lived directly across the street, Dean's bedroom window looked directly across from Zoey's nursery. And, as they both grew up, every night Dean would get out of his bed once Mary and John had tucked him in. Dean would crawl off his bed and kneel on his window bench, open his curtains a little and wave. Zoey couldn't see him, but he did it anyway.

Except, when he was four and she was two...everything changed. John roped Michael - Zoey's dad - into helping him. Both of the men had a fansination with hunting.

The years that followed, Zoey would stay home with her mom until Mike deemed her old enough to come with them. But, even from a young age, she knew that there had to be something better than this. Something better than watching Dean raise Sam, better than watching both boys learn how to handle weapons rather than learn how to solve 5th grade math. Better than...this life. Hunting.

However, as much as she cared for the boys, there was something that always made her closer to Sam. They understood one another. They had their love for school and a normal life in common. Whereas, Zoey and Dean...well...they butted heads more than they got along.

It had started from a young age. How to clean weapons. Who was better in the Scooby-Gang. What life was better.

But there were two key moments both could remember where everything came to a head. The first was when she was 14 and he was 16.

John and Mike had gone out on another hunt and with Zoey's mom out of the country for a business meeting, it meant all three kids were staying at Bobby's.

"And Dean will be training you."

"Training me? Why does he have to train me? I don't need training."

"Yes, you do. And Dean's the best."

Meanwhile, John was giving the same talk to Dean. But rather than talking back, all Dean said was, "Yes, Sir."

But once they finally left, Dean would come to regret underestermating her and everything that he'd known about her.

Bobby watched from the kitchen window, fixing up some grub for them to eat for the night. Sam was sat in the living room with his english homework writing up an essay to do Gullivers Travels.

Every now and again, he looked up to see Dean and Zoey talking. Well, more like...arguing calmly. But after twenty minutes, Bobby cursed loudly, dropped the plate into the kitchen sink and ran outside.

Zoey had been sparring with Dean when all of a sudden, Dean got into a readied stance and Zoey shocked him by running up the side of a car, jumping over his shoulders and within a few moments found himself on the ground with Zoey stood above him, his arm twisted and her foot on his chest.

"Boy, are you okay?" Bobby asked as Zoey eventually let him go. She had to walk away, her rage still rattling her. Bobby helped Dean up from the ground who was just as shocked, if not more, than Bobby.

"What the hell was that?" Bobby asked, turning to look at her.

"That was sparring."

"No, that was nearly killing Dean!"

Zoey looked from Bobby to Dean, making a point of repeating his words back to him. "What? I thought he could handle my 'girly' fighting. Besides, isn't what this is meant to be? Us learning how to defend ourselves against those things out there? Because apparently school work isn't as important."

There was a hammered silence between the three of them. Zoey looked down with her hand on her hips, taking in deep breaths before she finally looked up. "I'm gonna go help Sam with his homework."

Once she was out of ear shot and inside the house, Bobby looked back to Dean and checked him over. He had a small cut on his forehead from where she'd cut him or where he'd fell and cut himself. Zoey had done everything so fast, Dean just really dropped to the floor without any warning.

"I've got a kit upstairs. You know where it is. Go and clean it. Did you know she had that in her?"

Dean just shook his head but soon regretted it because only now did he realise the ammount of pressure that was inside his head.

"No. I didn't even know she could punch as hard as she did."

"She punched you?" Bobby hadn't seen that part.

Dean had to let out a chuckle. If he didn't, he wondered if he might actually cry. "Yeah, earlier. I told her to take a swing at me."

"Did you try and stop it?"

Dean just shrugged at Bobby's question. But he wasn't asking it out of worry, he was asking it because he didn't think Dean was that dumb.

"What? I've never seen her punch anything before. I didn't know she knew how to fight! You didn't!"

"Alright, get inside. Grub's almost done." And as Dean walked away, all Bobby could do was remove his cap, fix his hair before replacing the cap on his head, shake his head and mumble. "Kids."

The second time everything came to a head and when Dean and Zoey came very close to killing one another was when he was 17 and she was only 15.

Zoey had voulenteered to go with Mike and John on the hunting trip. She was done with her mid-terms and Sam had been begging her to go and, if she didn't feel anything else towards his older brother, she would have wanted to go just to see him.

Zoey sometimes wondered if she did harbour a crush on Dean Winchester but then he'd do something that would make her want to kill him, or punch him, or...she didn't know. Embarrass him in front of the girls at school so maybe he'd actually listen to her.

Dean had a habit of that. Not listening to her.

One day, Mike and John had decided to take the kids into the woods to 'train' them again. It was fucked up to Zoey, and secretly to Dean. Dean was okay with doing it himself, but John making Sam do it? Mike roping Zoey into it? No. Absolutley Not.

They'd set up different traps and senarios for them to go around to make sure they could defend themselves in the best way possible.

They were soldiers getting ready for battle.

Zoey and Dean found themselves together on a team. Mike on his own and Sam and John together. It was the first time Dean had actually seen a smile on Sam and John's face in a long time. And they were smiling together. That made Dean feel happier than ever.

But, as they got around, Zoey and Dean found themselves cornered. Or lost. They didn't really know.

"We're lost." Zoey called out to Dean as she looked around but he just shushed her.

"What? It's not like they can hear us. This is probably apart of it. Get lost in the woods and find your way out and back home safely."

Dean shushed her again. Zoey just rolled her eyes.

"I can see you doing that."

"You're not even looking at me."

"But I can feel you doing it."

"That's not the same as seeing it. To actually see it, you have to be looking at me when I do it, Smart-Ass. And you weren't doing either."

"Would you just shut up for a second? Wait! What was that?" A branch broke.

Dean moved a step more.

Another one broke.

"I think they're out here."

Zoey stood back and watched him, "Seriously?" she asked herself and rolled her eyes again before calling out; "That you, you idiot!"

Dean looked down and behind him. "Oh."

Zoey now marched towards him. "Yeah, 'oh'. Come on, the motel's back this way."

"No it's not." Dean argued. "We came from the south."

"No, we came from the west."

"We came from the south. That's south." Dean said, pointing it its direction.

They were face to face with one another now, Dean towering over her slightly.

"No. That's East. That's South. And that's West. We came from the west." Zoey corrected him.

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is." Zoey replied copying his tone. "You want me to make you a compass so you can see?"

Dean stared at her for a few moments before heading off in his direction.

"Where the hell are you going?!"

"Back to the motel!"

"You're going the wrong way! And they said not to split up!"

"You're welcome to join me!" Dean called back out, not looking back.

Zoey remained quiet for a second watching him walk away. He was going the wrong way and usually she would have left him but Sam would kill her if she did. So, with a loud groan, she followed him.

Dean heard her as she hurried to catch up, smirking to himself.

"You can wipe that stupid smirk off your face, while your at it."

"To see it, you have to actually be looking at me!" Dean called to her.

"Don't quote me to me. And, actually, I can see it. Every time you do that smirk of yours, it somehow makes its way into your walk."

Dean dropped the smirk and grumbled under his breath; "Smart-Ass."

"I heard that!"

It was a few months after that when all hell broke loose.

Dean was sat at the motel room table cleaning their weapons whilst herself and Sam were sat on one of the beds and she was helping him with his math homework.

"But how?!" was mostly Sam's reaction when it came to the answers. So she would go back and explain it again, and again, and again until he finally understood it.

Meanwhile, John and Mike were discussing the next case before John got annoyed and raised his voice turning to his son and Zoey.

"You don't even need that! What you need to be doing is research!"

Zoey, before realising she'd even spoken, spoke out in a sarcastic tone. "Yeah, because that's true."

"Excuse me?"

"What?"

"What's that meant to mean?" John asked her.

Zoey looked between John, Dean, her father and then Sam before back to John. She'd been harbouring these words for a long time. Maybe it was about time someone told him what for.

"Okay." Zoey sat up, placing her pen down and her feet on the floor. "I don't believe your research, the stuff you want Sam to do, is what he should be doing."

"And why not?"

"Because he deserves a life outside of all of this!" Zoey said with a small scoff.

"Listen here, Lady-"

No time like the present.

Zoey quickly stood up before John could finish. "No. You listen. You drag these boys around the whole fucking country their whole lives. No stability. No hope. Just plain, brutal killing. That's it. No family. No care. No love. No Life! You expect them to know everything before they've already done it and you expect the best!"

"As I should-"

"You expect them to be the best Hunters. Not students. Not kids. Not men. Hunters. Soldiers. Soldiers for your own sick and twisted crusade of finding the thing that killed your wife!"

John now stood. "Don't you dare-"

"Talk about Mary?" Zoey asked. "Why? Why should I? We all knew her didn't we? She's their mother! She was your wife! She was his best-friend. She was my mom's best-friend. Why shouldn't we talk about her? She's what this is all about, isn't she? She's why you do this, isn't it? Why you drag Sam and Dean from school to school, from hunt to hunt, with not a care whether you live or die. Whether they live or die! Because if you pulled your head out of your ass-"

"Zoey!" Mike scolded. But there was no stopping her.

"Because if you pulled your head out of your ass for just two fucking seconds, you'd realise that this isn't what Mary would have wanted for her boys! Right now! Right now Dean should be thinking about college or work-"

"He is working!"

"He's cleaning weapons! Guns! Something he's been doing since he was 7 years old. And that's only if he's not raising Sam because you can't be bothered to even look at your son's as son's rather that soldiers!"

Dean now stood up, annoyed, angry and frustrated. But at who? He didn't really know.

"Hey! Don't talk about me like I'm not here! And who said I even wanted to go to college?"

Zoey now looked at him, directly. "Yeah, but should at least get the choice."

After a quick second of silence that felt like it lasted a life time, she looked back to John and Mike.

"You both sit there, day in, day out, solving other people's issues because you can't fix your own. Right now, Sam should be in a bedroom, with a desk, worrying over his math homework there. Not in here being surrounded by crime scene photos that have been illegally obtained. I understand you think that there is a point to this, that you think that by putting yourself in danger that you're protecting others but did you ever think, just for two seconds, about the people you should be protecting? About who should come first in your life?" Zoey was now moving around the room, unable to remain still. She was too angry. Too enraged.

"You have a family." Zoey told John before looking to her own father. "You both do."

That hit home.

"What you should be doing is protecting your children, your families. You should be thinking that you have someone to come home to and if something happen to you, that there are people who would be lost without you. And I'm sorry, but none of this should be happening! God, you say that you're doing this to avenge your wife but in fact it's nothing more than an excuse to take your anger out on your children for being the ones that lived. Taking your anger out on other people because they weren't hurt. I'm sorry John, but Mary wouldn't want this! And you finding this Demon won't bring her back! She'd dead, John and maybe it's about time you accepted that!"

However, just as Zoey finished, she found herself in Dean's hands as he dragged her back and was about to pin her to the wall only, a roar ripped out from John and Mike and, sort of, Sam since Zoey wasn't about to be the one on the wall.

Instead, Zoey was dragged back but quickly flipped the control and Dean, shockingly, found himself as the one trapped.

Both were breathing heavily and deeply. Zoey's voice became calmer as she looked Dean in the eyes. His body language said he was angry. He was ridged. Stern. But his eyes. Zoey could see the truth.

He was hurting. He was breaking.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I really am. No kid should ever have to go through what you and Sam did. But this isn't right. You and I both know it." The pair kept their gazes on one another and she felt Dean's body under her arms relax a little, so she did the same in return.

"Mary's death was an accident. Or maybe it was fate. But it couldn't be prevented. And I know that's what you think this is. Hunting: Preventing other accidents. But the truth is, when time is up, it's up. You can't stop it. You can't slow it down. It hurts but you can't just alter the world with a click of your fingers or a shot of your gun. Sometimes things happen and we have no power or control over it and letting others try and beat it out of us to say that you can...it won't work. It doesn't work." Slowly, Zoey let Dean go and stepped back.

The entire room was silent. No-one moved. No-one said a word. Not even John.

After holding Dean's gaze and seeing the truth in his eyes, Zoey turned to look at her father.

"You finish this hunt and finish all together and come home, or you don't come home at all." Zoey told him, her gaze locked on his eyes. There wasn't a raise in her voice. She was steady. Ready. She'd accepted what she had to do and it was his choice, but either way she was ready. Zoey was ready to either hold on to him or let go. It was his choice.

"I've see the fear in mom's eyes every time the phone rings. I'm not going to be apart of that fear. I'm going home. I'll either see you there or we say goodbye now and I tell mom that your not coming home. That way, she can move on and not live in fear anymore." Zoey explained. "You took vows to protect her and any children you'd have together. Are you going to break them?"

There was that silence again.

"Okay, then."

Zoey moved over towards the bed and pulled her bag out from under the bed, packed the last of her books into the bag, grabbed her jacket and swung the bag strap over her shoulder.

Zoey made it to the door, opening it up when Sam stood up. "Wait!"

Zoey looked back and was greeted with Sam's body colliding into hers, hugging her tightly. She smiled, kinda sadly, and hugged him back just as tight.

"Please don't go." Sam whispered.

"I'll be seeing you." Zoey smiled at him. The only people close enought to see her eyes were Sam and Dean.

Dean didn't move from his spot but they made eye contact as Sam stood back from the door to let her go. Zoey gave a sad smile towards Dean and a small nod before it dropped as she looked to John and Mike.

And without another look, she grabbed hold of the door handle and closed the motel door behind her. She caught a Greyhound 40 minutes later and was on her way home.

After a week, Mike decided to go home. Hunting wasn't worth loosing his wife and daughter. Zoey had made her point and she wouldn't have to make it again, ever.

John understood but cursed him out all the same. That night Mike drive home and arrived back at 7 in the morning the next day. Zoey looked at him and after a few nervous seconds on his end, she rushed to him and hugged him.

Over the years, Sam and Zoey kept in touch but with John always being by Dean's side and making a point that they should never talk to them again, Sam never told anyone.

Zoey passed her exams and headed off to college, eventually graduating as a certified Vet.

But, even by the time Sam left Dean and John to go to college, he didn't see Zoey.

Yet, Dean did.

It was about a year into Sam being at college and Dean was on his own hunt. A couple of spirits possessing a few bodies around down.

Only, with the spirits he'd miscounted, he had a job on his hands.

It was the dead of night when Dean finally broke into the family funeral-home thing and after about an hour, the attacks started coming but just as he finally, maybe, found the thing that was tying them to the world since their bodies had be cremated, a spirit come to attack him and just as they were about to throw a marble slab into his face, a match was struck and the spirts all appeared and bust into flames.

Behind the real flames, Dean saw a face he recognised. It was a little older but still held the same beauty and anger as he'd know before.

"That's the last time I save your ass, Winchester."

Zoey said no more and walked outside. Dean was quick to scramble to his feet and follow after her.

"What- Why are you here?"

"I live here."

"In...Applewood Cemetary?"

Zoey looked back to him with her eyebrow raised and rolled her eyes. "In town, idiot."

"Did you follow me here?"

"I did. Spotted you coming out of the computer room in the library. Gathered you were looking into the deaths."

"You knew there was a case here?" Dean asked. "Did you even think about checking it out?"

"I have a day job, Dean." Zoey sighed. "That I also do night-shifts on. I have others to look after, Dean."

"Not once-"

Zoey zipped around to look at him. "You could just say 'Thank you' and we can part way again."

"Why did you save me?"

"Because I'd rather not be accused of murder. Also, Sam would kill me if I let you die." Zoey pulled out her car keys and unlocked her car.

"You still speak to Sam?"

"Yeah. Heard about how it went down. Sorry." Zoey said before getting into her car. "But, you should call him. He misses you."

"He could always call me, too."

Zoey rolled her eyes and got into her car, rolling down the window before starting the engine. "You're both too stubborn for your own good. Call Sam! It will be good for both of you!" Zoey called out to him before pulling out of the cemetary and heading home.

Dean stayed in town an extra night, watching as people came in and out of the Vet practice across the street. They looked happy. Zoey...Zoey looked happy.

Dean looked to his phone again, Sams contact bright on the screen. Maybe he should listen to her for once. She had always been complaining that he never listen to her when she should.

But as he went to call Sam, his phone screen flashed.

Dad.

Maybe listening to Zoey for once would have to wait.

And he did. For another few years.

The world had almost ended 50 times over by the time Dean saw Zoey again. They'd gone from moving around motels to finally finding the Bunker.

It had been pretty quiet recently, going back to their Moster-of-The-Week hunts. And they had to admit...they'd missed it.

But it was one Tuesday morning when Dean was going filling up Baby's engine and spotted someone from the corner of his eye.

He had just been looking around, wondering if anyone was watching him. He couldn't be too careful. That was when he saw a woman. She was a few years older now, but still as beautiful. Her hair was pulled back in a messy pony tail whilst she wore green scrubs and running trainers on her feet.

She had rushed into the gas n' sip, smiling at the person who held the door open for her. "Thank you."

Dean watched as she rushed inside and grabbed a sandwhich from the back fridges, a couple bags of chips and finally a drink before paying at the counter, running back across the street where she narrowly avoided being run over -- so many times she'd stopped Sam, and Dean, from doing the same thing when they were younger. Dean watched then as she ran inside a clinc style building.

She had a practice in Witchita? 20 minutes from the bunker?

Moments later, Dean pulled up outside the Bunker and rushed inside.

"You'll never guess who I've just seen." Dean began, seeing Sam sat in the Map Room on his laptop.

"Amy Adams?"

Dean placed the plastic gas n' sip bag on the table, unloading the food. "Zoey."

Sam looked up. "Zoey? Wait- Zoey-Zoey? Our Zoey?"

Dean nodded. "She's working at a practice in Witchita."

"Seriously?" Sam asked.

Dean nodded again. "The lady at the counter said she came into town a few weeks ago."

"Do you know where she's staying?"

"No. My guess is in the motel down the street."

"Should we...I don't know...check in on her? I mean, we haven't seen her since...since I was, what? 18?"

Dean had never told Sam that he'd seen Zoey after he was 17 and when she saved his life. Now, he didn't know why. It just never really came up.

"I mean...we could try? But I doubt she'd want to see us again."

"Why?"

"Do you seriously not remember how it ended?" Dean questioned his brother. "She was tearing a new one into dad and then she nearly beat my ass to the ground again before she left. She looks happy, Sam."

"I say we go and see how she's doing."

"I can tell you how she's doing. She's happy."

Sam chuckled. "Dean, come on. It's not like we're dragging her back into the game or asking for her help. We want to see her."

"We do?"

"I do." Sam said. "Do you?"

Dean didn't answer right away. Did he want to see her? He hadn't thought about for in a long time and then today he saw her and...

"Fine."

And with that, they were driving around town looking for her motel. Sam went into the practice just before it shut, asking for Zoey but the girl at the reception desk said they'd just missed her but she would be back in the morning.

But, eventually, they found her motel.

"There's got to be reason she's here." Dean whispered under his breath.

"There is." Sam smiled, looking up from the laptop on his lap. "She's got her own practice here, man."

"But don't you find it...I don't know...freaky. We don't see her for years and then suddenly, she'd in the exact same town we are, no more than a 20 minute walk from the Bunker?"

Sam just smiled. "No, Dean. I don't find it freaky. It's just a fluke. Look."

Sam turned the laptop so Dean could see. "She's a renound vet. All her clients love her and so do their owners. She's got her own practice in five different states. This one is her new one. Maybe it's just fate."

"Do you not remember the last time we dealed with fate? She tried to kill us!"

"Fate tried to kill you?"

Dean, slightly embarrassingly, let out a small scream as he heard a voice from behind him. Both of the brothers had jumped and turned around to find Zoey, leaning down and looking into the car.

"Zoey." Sam said with a smile of relief.

"Hi, Sam." She smiled back before looking at Dean. "Fate tried to kill you?"

"Yes." Dean answered. "But an Angel saved us." Dean answered honestly and quickly before he looked around Zoey and found that she and they were the only ones in the parking lot. "Wait. How long have you been watching us?"

Zoey looked to her watch, estimating. "About half an hour. I was in the diner across the street when I heard your car. I've got grub if you want some. I'll be inside."

Without another word, Zoey stood up and walking into her motel room, leaving the door open for the brothers. Only, they were a little slow catching on.

So, standing in the open door way, Zoey held up a bag of food. "It's getting cold! You can either sit out their and freeze your asses off or you can come in! It's your choice!"

"Alright, alright. We're coming."

By the time they made it inside, Dean shutting the door behind them, Sam and Zoey were already hugging.

"God, you're so tall."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled awkwardly. "I kinda shot up after you left."

"I think that's an understatement." Zoey joked. "Food's on the table. I got your usual order. Chicken burger and a side salad. Got your's too, Dean." Zoey held it up. "Double bacon cheeseburger, extra onions."

"You remembered our orders?" Sam asked.

"Figured you'd both be hungry."

"How've you been?" Dean asked.

"I've been good. I heard about your dad...I'm sorry."

Dean nodded but Sam answered for him. "Thanks."

"I heard through the grape vine that you boys nearly ended the world and then fixed it again so...thank you for that." Zoey was unpacking some of her groceries into the mini fridge.

"You're welcome." Sam said just before Dean asked; "How'd you find out about that?"

As Zoey finished cleaning up the side, she turned around with a sigh and folded up the dish towel.

"After dad came back...it wasn't long until he went back out again. Just a couple of investigations here and there but he went back to it. I yelled at him. Mom yelled at him. He yelled at us. Mom kicked him out. I saw him at my graduation and he said he wanted to see me. He missed having his family. I told him it was too late. Over the years, a couple things came up and other hunters came to deal with them. Then, I got a call. Windigo attack. DOA. So, they brought him home. He had a Hunter's funeral. Bobby called me. He gave his condolances, I asked about you two. He said that you two sons-of-bitches were being a pain in his ass."

Dean chuckled. "That was Bobby for you."

Zoey smiled. "He updated me on everything and would call to check in with me once in a while."

"He never told us that."

Zoey nodded. "But he told be all about you two. Also, do you two ever stop to live?!"

Oh, boy.

"I understand him not listening to me," Zoey began pointing to Dean. "But you, Sam? Seriously?"

"Okay, okay. You may have a point."

"Oh, I have a million of them."

"But we're alive right now. Look. See."

The conversation soon turned to something else. Zoey told them all about her practice and could see Dean was still weary about the fact that she suddenly turned up in the same town as them.

They told her about everything else. About Lucifer and Michael. About meeting their Grandfather and how they're legacies. The whole story.

"Why are you living here anyway?" Dean asked, looking around. "If I remember correctly, you use to say we all needed a proper home."

Zoey nodded. "I've been looking but none of the houses are right for me. Even apartments. I went to look at one last week, the plumming was done so the toilet was in the middle of the master bedroom and that the electrics in the living room switch the oven on in the kitchen. Another, I'd be living in between a crazy cat lady and a guy who hangs outside his neighbours door, upside down. And don't even get me started on the upstairs neighbour."

"What if you lived with us?" Sam asked before looking to Dean. "I mean, you wouldn't have to pay. The place runs on magic as it is. It's warm and you wouldn't even have to have neighbours if you didn't want. There's like 50 rooms. An entire library, and we're usually away hunting. And it's warded so no-one can get in. You'd be safe. At least until you find a place you like?"

Zoey was surprised. She looked to Dean who seemed to agree with Sam. Why not? The Bunker was nice place, she'd be safe, she was just down the road from her practice and she wouldn't be living in a motel for the next year and a half.

It took some convincing but eventually Zoey agreed. It would just be like old times. Except, with less of the training and less of the whole out-of-fashion-even-for-the-70s vibe.

In the months that followed, everything ran pretty smoothly. Sam and Dean still continued on as they did, except when they came back from a hunt they actually had someone who knew how to do stitches and avoid infection.

Sometimes, like usual, Zoey would scold the both of them for getting hurt or not listening to her. She knew the lives they led meant that the chances of getting hurt were slim to non, but they could at least try.

Zoey walked to work every day and if she got back before the boys, she'd cook or if they were back before her, they would, well...Dean would.

Sam typically cooked breakfast since he was up at the crack of dawn.

But, as the months passed, it wasn't long before Zoey met Charlie.

Charlie had called. She had a week off work and she was due a major binge of tv, snacks and catch up with her two favourite hunters.

But, the boys had sort of forgot to mention that they had Zoey staying with them. And Dean couldn't have regretted it more. It would have at least avoided Zoey finding out about the Supernatural Books.

It was around 3 o'clock that Charlie got in, and after a long catch up on when she had been doing and what the boys had been hunting, they all turned as they heard the Bunker door open and saw Zoey walking down in her green scrubs and coat with her hair, once again, tied back in a messy pony tail.

"Oh, my god."

"Uh...Charlie. This is..Zoey. Zoey. This is Charlie."

Zoey smiled. "Hi."

But Charlie smiled back, although more star-struck than ever. "Oh my god. Zoey? This is Zoey?" Charlie looked to Dean who was a little confused. "This is the Zoey that beat you in training? The one you had, like, a major crush on?"

"What?" Zoey asked, looking slightly worried, flicking her eyes between the red head and Dean.

Dean flushed bright red as he walked backwards. "What? No. No. No, no. She- Huh - She's uh...She's just kidding. I - I'm gonna go and check on Sam."

"He's not cooking is he?" Zoey asked.

"What? Oh, no. We've ordered pizza."

"Oh, thank god."

By the time Dean slipped away and towards the kitchen, Zoey hung up her coat before turning to Charlie.

"It's nice to meet you. Sam told me your guys met on a hunt? Before Dean ended up in Purgatory?"

"Oh, yeah. I was working for Dick Roman at the time. Well, a Livaithan, but I thought it was Dick Roman and..." Charlie trailed off in the conversation and by the time Sam and Dean came back in from the kitchen with pizza boxes and beers, both of them stopped in their tracks.

"You guys have books written about you?" Zoey took a beer from Dean.

"What?"

"The Supernatural Books?"

"Charlie." Dean scolded.

"What?" Charlie asked, innocently. "I thought she already knew about them."

"Can I find this books?"

"They're on-"

"No. Absolutley not." Dean warned to Zoey but she just laughed and smiled back.

"No what?"

"You are not reading those books."

"And why not?" Zoey asked.

"Because it's...weird. They're weird. Look, just...promise me you won't read them."

Zoey could see a look in Dean's face that intruiged her. There was something, or maybe many things in those books that they both wanted to hide. But...she nodded.

"Fine. I won't read them."

"It's okay, I have! I can tell you everything."

Dean took hold of the back of Charlie's chair and pushed her down the hall away from Zoey.

"I'll take it that I'm not allowed to either, then!" Charlie called out from down the hall before eventually rolling herself back.

Charlie left a few days later and they all went back to how they were before. Only, there came a time when they'd needed Zoey's help.

They'd been on a hunt about an hour away from the bunker. Nothing was adding up until eventually it did.

There was a werewolf pack experimenting. On humans, babies, animals. Turning them all. Sam and Dean had called Zoey on as much information as they could get about putting animals to sleep, just for a while - like they'd do in surgery.

"Dean, I swear, if you're about to do something stupid-"

"You know me. I'm careful."

"No, you are not. Look, do you need my help? Because I can-"

"No. Zoey. I didn't call you to bring you back in."

But she went back in anyway.

Sam and Dean had found the back, gathered together for a meeting in a barn just south of town. They all fought, they all either got hurt or were the ones hurting and just as one of the wolves sent off two shots of Dean's gun, by the time the third one was done, Dean found that it hadn't hit him but he had been hit by something.

Sam came behind the final wolf, killing him dead when the two brothers turned and found Zoey lay beside Dean.

"Ow."

Dean didn't have time to think as he turned to help her get into a more confortable position and called out for Sam to get the first aid kit.

Zoey had put one in their car just a few days after she moved into the Bunker. Dean had found it on their next hunt and it made him smile.

"What ever happened to 'that's the last time I save your ass, Winchester.'" Dean was worried as he looked for the wound in semi-darkness.

Zoey felt okay. It hurt but she would be okay.

"Well, this is definitely the last time." Zoey half-joked.

She could feel Dean beside her, looking for a wound when she took his hand and placed it to where it was bleeding.

It hadn't hit anything too serious. And the bullet wasn't that deep. She was lucky. They both were.

"Can you stand?" Dean asked after a sigh of relief.

"I think."

Dean carefully helped her up to her feet. "Here, put your weight against me."

Dean got her outside to her car and sat her on the rim of Baby's trunk. "Can I?"

Zoey nodded. "Sam, can you drive my car back?"

"Sure."

Zoey gave him the keys before Dean gave his brother a reassured look. "We're okay here. Go on ahead."

Sam nodded and headed off, driving Zoey's car back to the Bunker.

"I thought I told you to stay home."

"And I thought I told you to be careful. You almost got yourself killed, Dean! I wasn't just going to stay at home and wait for Sam to tell me he's sold his soul this time."

Dean cleaned out her wound and patched it up as best as he could. "I need to clean this place out before we leave."

"I'll help you-"

"No, you will sit there and not go dying on me. I'll be back soon."

A few hours later, Dean was finished and they were back at the Bunker. They all got a good nights sleep, waking up mid-day. Thankfully, it was a Sunday and the practice was shut for the day so Zoey could sleep in without a worry.

As the day passed, Zoey cleaned her wound and patched it up but was struggling to get the bandage to stay since every time she twisted, it only hurt her more - what with the bullet having hit her side.

"Zo? Zoey?"

"In here!" Zoey called out from her bathroom.

Dean walked in further until he found her. "Sam finished the ironing so I brought your clothes- What are you trying to do?"

"This...it won't stay. Everytime I twist it just-"

Dean placed her clothes down on the bed and moved over to her. "Come here. Stand still."

Zoey stood infront of the mirror and watched as Dean pulled the bandage gently around her waist and back and forth until it was secure.

Only now did she realise she was stood in her joggers and a sports bra. It was the only was she could see the wound without her t-shirt getting in the way.

Dean tied it securely around her middle before standing back up straight and meeting her gaze in the mirror.

"Done."

Zoey smiled. "Thanks."

Only, as Dean smiled back, he looked down realising his hands were still on her shoulders and arms. But, a second later, that was when he saw something.

A scar.

Old, but still there.

Zoey seemed to notice as his gaze changed from whatever that moment was to seeing her scar. Swiftly, she moved around and smiled. "Thanks."

Zoey quickly zipped from his side and out to her room to grab a freshly warmed t-shirt.

Everything in Dean wanted to know where and how that had happened. How had she been hurt? When had she been hurt? Was if a pet with anxiety or was it something else? Was it a hunt?

But he could tell that she didn't want to talk about it. Or she would have mentioned something by now.

She kept her back to him as she put her t-shirt on. "Thanks for bringing my clothes."

"You're welcome. I- I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you later."

Dean left after a short moment and once he did, the door closing behind him, Zoey sat on her bed.

Before he spotted her scar, there had been this feeling in her stomach. Usually, she wouldn't have cared about what she was wearing. Clearly Dean didn't. He didn't even notice. But she did. And when he looked at her in the mirror...his face when he saw the scar.

That scar played on Dean's mind for two months. He wondered if she'd ever tell him. Maybe it was nothing? Maybe it was just a pet she had been looking after? But her reaction...how she tried to hide it...it couldn't just be nothing.

But, he finally got his answer after two months when himself and Zoey were staying in a motel together.

She was checking in on one of her other practices since the very first client of hers had another pet and only wished to see Zoey. A puppy with a broken paw.

Dean decided to go with her since Sam was going to see Elieen for the weekend, so he would have just been on his own.

"Hey, how was it?" Dean asked as Zoey came in after almost 14 hours of being out of the room.

Zoey collapsed onto the bed. "All done. I have to go back in and check on him in the morning but he's sleeping for now. I need a shower but I don't want to get up."

Dean chuckled. "Well, there's chinese in the fridge if you want some."

Zoey was up at that. "Ooh."

She hadn't eaten since this morning.

Around 2 hours later, she had eaten and found the energy to have a shower before she finally came back out in her pjs. She hadn't put her jumper on yet since her hair was dripping wet.

Dean watched as she sat on the edge of the bed and towel dried her hair. And that was when he spotted it again. The scar.

"Dean."

"What? Sorry." Dean realised he'd been staring.

"You can ask, if you want to."

"I didn't know if you'd want to tell me."

Zoey moved her hair back and moved her shirt, showing him. She called him over and he sat beside her on the bed.

"How'd it happen?"

"About two years after I last saw you." Zoey answered. They were both so close to one another than it caused them both to speak just above a whisper. "There were a couple hunters in town. They had a spirit case. They called me and begged for my help. I got there and one of them was bleeding out. But, they hadn't burnt the body yet so the spirit was more pissed than ever. It threw me against a tree before I came crashing to the ground. Threw in a book of matches and then saved the guys life."

Dean traced a finger, gently across the scar, scared he'd hurt her. But she just smiled and whispered; "It doesn't hurt."

Dean chuckled softly. "Sorry."

The scar finished at the back of her neck and as Dean's finger stopped at the top, he looked to Zoey.

There was that look again.

It was the same look they had shared before he noticed the scar in the first place.

Their eyes searched one anothers for a small moment before they flicked to the lips and back up. Before either of them knew it, they were moving in closer and finally met in the middle.

Their lips met in a soft kiss. Gentle. New. Unfamiliar yet...like forever. Like they had done this forever. That it should be done forever.

They both pulled back, their foreheads pressed against the others, their eyes still shut.

Wow.

Eventually, they opened their eyes and found they were both smiling. And it wasn't long until they kissed again. Zoey's hand was placed gently against Dean's cheek whilst the hand that had play at the top of her neck moved around and held her in closer. They each smiled into the kiss.

This is what they had been waiting for.

The passion behind the kiss, they could feel growing. Dean pulled her flush against his chest before they found their bodies moving for them.

Slowly, Zoey found herself on her back, Dean crawling to be over her body before he was above her.

They both pulled back in need of breath.

Just simply looking at her was enough to make her blush. Dean moved a strand of her hair from her face and behind her ear before he let his hand rest of her cheek. Even in partial darkness, he could see her loving blush. But that wouldn't have mattered because he could feel her smile and blush through his palm.

Slowly, he moved back down. Looking from her eyes to her lips and back again for confirmation, she nodded before Dean kissed her again.

Zoey hands pulled him in closer by his face, feeling the kiss deepen, and deepen and deepen.

It wouldn't be until the next day that either of them would talk about it, but even when they did, they already knew the answer.

Zoey's alarm went off at 6 and Dean groaned.

"Sorry."

She quickly shut it off and lay back down, Dean moving himself to hold her closer against him. He was like a human heater for her as he did so and she didn't want to leave.

"Wait." Dean grumbled when she tried to move.

But, as much as she wanted to stay by his side, she had a puppy to check on.

So, she used her initiative to make sure she could get out of bed. Even if what she was about to do would make her want to stay.

She leaned up and pulled Dean closer kissing him, his arms around her becoming more secure as she made sure he stayed down until finally, she kissed him a final time and rushed off the bed.

"Hey,"

Zoey just laughed and rushed into the bathroom. "You're welcome to join me!"

A while later, they both left the bathroom, this time Dean wrapped with a towel around his waist and Zoey in some fresh scrubs.

"Wait."

Dean pulled her back in before she left, and kissed her. "Be careful."

"I thought I was meant to be saying that to you." She smiled.

Zoey kissed him again but slowly backed out of his arms and rushed to the door. "I'll be back soon."

It got to around mid-day when Dean strolled into her practice. No-one was in since the place was shut for the day so, he called out and heard Zoey call back.

"Back here!"

Dean came through carrying a couple of sandwiches and coffee. "Thought you could use a break."

"Ah," Zoey smiled, closing the cage of the kitten she had been checking over. "You are a life saver. Both literally and metaphorically."

"Shouldn't I be saying that to you, you know, since you took a bullet for me?"

"I don't mind hearing it."

But Dean kissed her instead. The kisses peppered a little and she smiled. "Even better."

"Coffee."

"Thank you."

"So, Sam called. He said he and Eileen are gonna be staying at the cabin for a few more days so I was thinking maybe, before we go back to the Bunker I take you somewhere." Dean smiled.

Zoey looked at him as she took another sip of her coffee.

"Oh, god. You're not about to kill me, are you?"

Dean chuckled, "No. Just...once you've finished up here meet me back at the motel."

Zoey smiled and leaned over to kiss him. She placed down her coffee and wrapped her arms around Dean, him doing the same with her with his hands on her hips.

The pair shared a kiss that only deepened. Both Zoey and Dean smiled into the kiss before they let go, but they still held onto one another, smiling.

They'd both waited a life time for this.

Eventually, Zoey shut the practice for the night and met Dean outside the motel. He'd picked up food for both of them and had already packed the car up.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep." Zoey smiled before Dean pulled her in for another kiss, not that she minded.

Dean drove the few hours towards their home town. As much as Dean wanted to avoid this place years ago, he'd found a happy memory to focus on now.

Eventually, he pulled into a small field and turned to his side. Zoey was fast asleep in the passenger seat, her head against the bench.

He watched her for a moment. She looked so peaceful. He felt peaceful. Right now, there was no worry. There was no hunt or moster of the week. It was just them and no-one else. Nothing else. Just them and a billion stars in the sky.

Gently, he shook her awake.

Zoey fluttered her eyes open and looked around, a little confused.

"You are going to kill me."

Dean just smiled. "Come with me."

"Okay, but if you kill me? Sam will kill you. And so will all my clients."

"Just come on."

Streching, Zoey got out of the car and followed Dean from where he grabbed the blanket from the trunk and lay it down on the ground a little further away.

However, as she looked around Zoey realised where they were.

"We're in Lawrence?"

Dean nodded.

Zoey joined him on the ground and lay her head on his chest as he covered them both with another blanket.

They lay there in silence for a while, looking above and watching the stars.

"When I was a kid, I'd get out of bed every night to wave at you from my window." Dean admitted as they lay there.

He hadn't hought about it in years until last night.

Zoey moved herself so she lay her head on top of her hands that lay on his chest, so she could look at him.

"Mom would tuck me into bed and the moment I heard her door close, I'd bound out of bed and sit under my window and wave to you. Every night."

Dean now looked to her. Zoey could tell every word he'd just said was the complete truth.

"I knew you couldn't see me but I waved anyway."

Zoey smiled and leaved over to kiss him. It felt different than the others. More...intimate. More...thankful. After all this time, she might never have grown up across from him. They might never have met. They might never have fought or loved. They might never have had this life together.

"Thank you for telling me that." Zoey said, her voice quiet.

"You were my first crush. I was so embarrassingly in love with you."

"I thought I was a pain-in-the-ass?"

"Oh, you were that, too." Dean teased. "But you were still you. You could beat my ass to the ground within three moves. Better than any damn hunter I know. And you were right, that night, about what you said before you left. We shouldn't have gone through that as kids, but...for some reason, part of me is glad we did, because I got to be with you. And Sam. After all of it...you and Sam made it worth it."

Zoey could only smile.

Even when she was younger, as much as Dean never listened to a word she said and always did the opposite of what he probably should have done...he was here. With her. And, once she took away all the moments of him being her very own pain-in-the-ass, maybe he was her childhood crush too.

But they were both more than that, now.

They were grown adults. They were living their lives, and sometimes it would be more dangerous than the typical life, but they couldn't focus on that right now. They didn't need to focus on that right now.

All they needed was each other. And they couldn't have been more happier.

Zoey moved closer, the kiss starting out soft and slow before she whispered against his lips. "I love you, Dean."

He pushed a few strands of hair behind her ear and smiled. "I love you, too."

They both smiled lightly before moving in closer and sharing a kiss. Zoey's hands came to his face. She could feel the stubbled beneath her hands. Dean's own hands pushed through from her cheek to the back of her head, through her hair. His other hand was against her hip as she moved upwards and straddled his hips.

A moan came from the back of Dean's throat as she did so. Zoey pulled him closer and he soon found himself sitting up, pulling her closer if that was even possible.

All they needed was one another. And they would have, for the rest of their lives.

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super-incorrect · 6 months

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Y/n - Dean annoyed me today so I told him that I can't wait to see what he has planned for our special day tomorrow.

Sam - But there is nothing special tomorrow.

Y/n - But there is something special about watching the colour leave his face as panic takes over.

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castiwls · 4 months

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"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"

being the middle child in the winchester family...

I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child

Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things

When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.

When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)

When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe.

Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.

You and your brothers were really close.

You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age.

Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.

As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines.

Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.

You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.

Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.

“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”

So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.

In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.

Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.

Around this time Sam also started to want to leave.

“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)

Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.

“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”

You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)

Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)

Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.

One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.

“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”

You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud

#proud parent moment.

Though eventually, Dean found the letter.

“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”

You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.

When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.

You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.

Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.

When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)

“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”

Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off.

“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”

After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.

You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.

Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)

But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.

You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.

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glorystark · 2 months

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Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

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ellieslittleburrow · 3 months

Text

Siblings

Summary : You live near campus, away from Dean and Sam. You haven't seen them in a while. How do you react when you find them right at your door?

Pairings : Dean and Sam winchester x sister

Warnings : nooone, just fluff.

A/N : Hi, babies ❣❣ I hope this is as refreshing to you as it was for me.

------

Oil sizzled as you set the stove on the lowest heat. You tossed the chopped up onions into the pan, filling the room with the familiar aroma.

The house phone rang. And you moved the pan aside before heading for the phone. You pressed a button, setting the phone near your ear when a familiar hum sounded.

Oh my god!

"Dean!" You excitedly shouted, earning yourself an "ouch" over the other line. You pressed a another button, opening the complex door for him and since you were only in the third floor, it only took him a quick minute to appear, followed by Sam.

"Hii" You opened your arms, running to embrace both of them. "What a surprise."

"Hey, kiddo." Dean tightly wrapped his arms around you, letting you go when Sam spoke.

"Hey, honey." Sam pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you both so much." Your voice vibrated into Sam's chest. "What are you doing here?"

"Eating, apparently." As Dean's voice went distant, you pulled away from Sam, spinning around to find Dean marching towards the kitchen.

You let out a little chuckle, following behind.

-----

After setting the plates and beers on the table, you plumped down on the couch, waiting for your brothers to join. And as all three of you started eating, an hour and a half of talks about life, uni, cases and john flowed seamlessly.

"So..." Dean coughed. "Anybody in your life....kid?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean's sudden change of voice. You knew this one, a low tone, manipulative and curious. You're not falling for it.

"Nobody, Dean." You smiled at him, not caring that he already knew you were lying.

"Are you sure about that? Because i'm pretty sure you don't wear size 12 flip floppers." He eyed the entry door and you snorted a laugh. Fucking hell..This guy's eyes..

"Leave her alone, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes before turning to you. "As long as you're happy, honey."

You smiled at his response....your eyes darting around the room when silence set in...

"Alright....Time to head out, Dean." Sam slapped his thighs, readying himself to get up when you pushed him back down.

"No!"

"We have to go, honey. We still have 5 hours to go before we get there." Sam argues and you shook your head.

"Please don't....it's only been an hour." You pleaded, looking over at Dean, who, to your surprise, was staring at you with pleading eyes.

He did not want to go either.

"Come on, Sammy. It's-" you spun around to get a look at the clock. "It's 6pm, don't you wanna get some sleep and head back for the road tomorrow morning?."

Sam grimaced. "I don't know if that's such a good idea, honey. I really do want to stay, but we could always stay over on our way ba-."

You turned to Dean, leaving Sam hanging. But Dean was already laid back, quiet, waiting for you to do all the dirty work. That's when Sam spoke again.

"Okay, how about this" He started, and your eyes grew wide, anticipating what's about to happen.

Sam straightened his back as he held his arms out, positioning one hand on top of the other, his right fist resting on top of his left palm. And as Dean understood the assignment, he got up, mirroring sam.

And in silence you watched, as for the very first time, Sam laid a rock, losing the fight as early as the first round.

You burst into laughter as Sam's eyebrows arose. Nobody expected that. And as you lifted your arms up, jumping in pure ecstasy, Dean grinned triumphantly.

"I won."

You nodded. "And you spend the night here."

Sam smacked his hands together. "Alright, then. Let's prep for a night in."

----

And we're done! If yall can spare a minute and tell me about my writiing pleaase? if i should change it up, if it's too repetitive and stuff. No pressure and thanks in advance ❣ 🖤🖤🥀🥀

#winchester sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #sister!reader #sam winchester x sister #dean winchester x daughter!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sister x brothers #baby winchester #father figure fic #sibling fic #platonic!reader #dean winchester × platonic!reader

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beanzwrites · 9 months

Text

Late Night

Dean X Sister! reader X Sam

Description: The youngest Winchester takes care of her brothers after a hunt gone wrong.

Warning: Drinking, mentions of blood

.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°

Dry mud cakes off Dean's boots as he stumbles inside the motel with his siblings. The atmosphere was tense and none of them could even smile to make things better. Sam slouches over himself as he examines the wound in his leg. A hiss comes from his throat as his fingers graze over the tender flesh.

(Y/n) gently places her hand on his arm for comfort. "Let me get you a wet rag and a first aid kit," she coos softly. She walks over to the end of the bed to grab a fresh cloth from her duffle bag. She carries on to the bathroom and finds Dean sitting on top of the marble counter.

He moves his feet slightly so she can access the sink. As she runs the water over the small towel, she notices a beer bottle in between Dean's thighs. "Don't you think it's too late to be drinking," she asks cooly before ringing out the rag. Dean huffs in response and takes a swig of it.

(Y/n) lowers to her knees to reach inside the cabinet. She takes out a decent sized medical box and sets it on the bathroom surface. Taking out a bandage and ointment, she casually lifts her hand to Dean. "I'm not going to pretend that I didn't see your arm bleeding. Give it here."

"I'm fine, go help Sammy," Dean slurs.

"Please."

Eventually, Dean gives in to his sister's soft nature. He rolls up his flannel sleeve to reveal a large cut oozing down his arm. It didn't look deep, but it looked like it hurt like hell.

"I'm going to have to get another rag- do you know what caused this?" (Y/n) questions.

"I ran into a saw blade when we were in the barn," Dean replies.

"Did you check to see if it was rusty?"

"It wasn't."

"Good. No tetanus shot for you today." A ghost of a smile etches on her lips. She places the rag on the wound, making sure to cover the whole infected area. "Clean that up for me, I'm going to get another rag."

Sam managed to get himself out of his dirty blue jeans and into some boxer shorts. His back presses against the headboard of the bed with his legs relaxed out in front of him. "Sorry Sam, I was just making sure Dean took care of his wound. Are you alright?" (Y/n) asks sweetly.

"Yeah. I feel better now that something isn't rubbing against it," Sam sighs out.

"Good. I'll be with you in a moment."

Dean was in the process of trying to wrap the gauze around his arm when (Y/n) made it back to the bathroom. His hands were shaky as he did so and he had to place his feet on the cool tile floor. " Did you put the ointment on?" (Y/n) asks.

"What do you take me for," Dean replies.

"Here. Let me help you," (Y/n) instructs as she takes the bandaging. "Hold out your arm." Soon enough, Dean's arm was securely wrapped. "Is that too tight?"

"Nah, it's fine."

"Great, now clean yourself up. You smell like cow manure. I'm going to help Sammy."

---

"That burns," Sam cries out, biting his lip harshly.

"I'm sorry, but it's the only thing that we have right now- stop that!" (Y/n) barks. Sam quickly lets go of his lip with a scowl. "I'm almost done, just a few more layers."

"I don't know how when we just went out for a supply run a few weeks ago- Charlotte's town sound familiar to you?" Sam retorts with a snap.

"Does watching out for Vermin teeth sound familiar to you?" They glare harshly at each other before smiles crack through their faces. "I'm just going to move your leg a little bit to wrap it, okay? Try not to tense too much," (Y/n) says with a giggle.

Carefully, Sam is allowed to rest his newly swaddled leg. A relieved sigh carries out of Sam's mouth before he glimpses over to his sister. He notices the way her frazzled hair carries across her shoulders messily. A few bruises and scrapes are scattered across her delicate skin. "What you did was very dangerous," He announces after a while.

"I know," (Y/n) acknowledges quietly. "If I didn't do what I did though, we might have had to amputate your leg- I don't think you want that."

"I don't know what we'd do without you," Sam chuckles.

"We would bleed out," Dean's voice conveys from the bathroom doorway.

"What happened to your bottle?" (Y/n) queres.

"It's too late to drink, especially with a kid around."

"Yeah, Sam doesn't really need that right now."

"Are you calling me a child?" Sam interrogates.

"Can I call you both children?" (Y/n) says playfully.

"I'm not a child," Dean retorts in offense.

"I had to help two grown men clean and wrap their wounds because they didn't want to do it themselves," (Y/n) explains with a proud smirk. Both went silent with their argument.

"Toshee," Dean remarks.

"You guys want to watch a movie?" (Y/n) asks, changing the subject. "I like to think we have the right to mellow out for a while."

"I'm down, as long as it isn't thriller. I think we've had enough action for tonight," Sam replies, eyeing his leg.

"Agreed."

#dean winchester x sister reader #supernatural x reader #sam winchester x sister reader #supernatural x sister! reader #fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean x reader x sam #platonic reader #sister reader #fluff

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superlunar-eclipse · 5 months

Text

🌑 ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━ ACROSS THE COUNTRY

SUMMARY ➤ Dean and Sam, concerned about their missing father, approach their estranged elder sister Y/N, an FBI agent, for help. Despite initial resistance due to past grievances and her current job, Y/N eventually agrees to join them in their search, setting the stage for a journey filled with potential challenges and dangers.

WARNINGS ➤ injury’s, injured Y/N, stabbed wound (to the shoulder), small shard of glass on Y/N’s face and the back of their head, and slight arguing.

CHARACTERS ➤ Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Y/N Winchester, mentions of John Winchester, and Adam William (added character)

WORD COUNT ➤ 1,180 words

OTHER ➤ Y/N is a FBI agent, small mention of Y/N being 32 years old, set in season 1, episode 1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ➤ first fanfic! hopefully dean and sam don’t act too OOC, but lmk if they do!

"Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam took a deep breath before responding, "So, he's working one of his usual overtime shifts on a 'Miller Time'. It's nothing to worry about. He's bound to stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean glanced down at the cold, hard ground, allowing his eyes to linger there for a moment before looking back up at Sam. His voice was full of concern as he said, "Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in a few days."

Sam’s expression remained stoic, giving away nothing of the worry that was slowly starting to creep in. Jess, who had been quietly observing the exchange, glanced up at him.

"Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

"I mean, come on. You can't just break into my place in the middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam said, his voice echoing in the silence of the night as he followed Dean down the stairs.

"You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I'm not just asking you to hit the road with me. I need you to help me find him." He looked back at Sam, his eyes pleading for understanding.

"I- I don’t understand, why couldn’t you have called Y/N? Isn’t she an FBI agent or something like that?" Sam questioned, his hand reaching out to grab Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to halt his progress.

Dean sighed loudly, a sound that echoed throughout the quiet night. He bounced on the balls of his feet, a nervous habit he had whenever he was troubled. "Well I… kinda don’t know where she is…" he admitted shamefully.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, a clear sign of his confusion. "What do you mean you ‘don’t know where she is’?"

Dean pursed his lips and rubbed his hands together, his gaze dropping to the ground. "Well I don’t know her exact location but I know she’s somewhere in Washington DC or something like that!"

Sam scoffed in disbelief and shook his head. "That’s all the way across the country."

"Well did you want this to go quicker?" Dean shot back defensively.

Sam simply rolled his eyes at Dean.

"Look, are you coming with me or not?" Dean asked, his patience clearly running thin.

"I’m not." Sam said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why not?" Dean questioned, his frustration clear.

"I swore I was done hunting. For good."

"Come on. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t all bad."

Dean starts heading down the stairs once again, with Sam quickly on his trail.

"You know, in almost three years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing," Dean tried to reason, his voice softening.

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

"All right. I'll go. I'll help you find the both of them."

Y/N, a 32 year old FBI agent, sat in the back of the ambulance as the woman cleaned up her many cuts. Her shoulder had been stabbed by the unsub and her head was smashed into a sheet of glass.

"Alright, you're done." The woman finished cleaning her cuts, placing a bandage on her forehead and applying gauze tape to her wound.

Y/N smiled at the woman and hopped off the ambulance truck.

"Y/N!" someone shouted from the distance. She turned to see her great friend Adam, who was the first one to welcome her to the FBI.

She smiled softly as he gave her a comforting hug, "Ow, my shoulder." Her nose scrunched up in pain.

"Sorry," the corners of his mouth turned up as he let go of her.

Other agents of the FBI walked up to her, thanking her for her bravery. "Thank you for saving that girl's life."

"No problem." She gave them a comforting smile.

The agents walked away to discuss matters with other departments.

Y/N and Adam talked about the case for a little while, before Adam turned his attention to something behind her.

"Hey, do you know those people over there?" He asked.

She turned around to look at the people Adam was pointing at. She tilted her head to the side, squinting slightly as she tried to recognize them.

Why did they look so familiar?

Her face paled when she realized who they were.

"Uhm, yea- yeah I do, I’ll be right back," she stuttered, patting his shoulder reassuringly before she walked away.

"What are you guys doing here and how in the hell did you guys find me?" Y/N whispered-yelled at the two boys, her eyes wide with surprise.

"We need your help," Dean replied simply.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows and put her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, "Oh, so all of a sudden you both need me after what, three years of not talking to me?"

Dean, with a dramatic flair that was all too typical of him, let out an exaggerated sigh. "Listen-" he began, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

But she cut him off, her frustration palpable. "Dean, please, I really don’t have time for this," she said, waving a hand dismissively.

Sam, practically silent until now, took a step forward. His eyes critically scanned over her face and body, noting the signs of recent distress. "What happened to your shoulder?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

In response, she lifted a brow and shot him a sarcastic look. "Take a guess, Sam. I’m in the FBI," she said dryly.

He rolled his eyes at her retort. Typical Y/N, he thought, not for the first time.

Dean, who had been silent during their exchange, finally spoke. "Dad’s been missing for a few days, and we… we need you," he stated, his eyes narrowed and serious.

Her reaction was almost immediate. Her jaw tightened, her eyes darkened, her whole demeanor turned defensive. "And why would I want to find him?" she shot back, her voice icy.

He faltered, at a loss for words. He turned away, his gaze landing aimlessly on the nearby crime site.

Now it was Sam’s turn to speak up. He stepped forward, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please, we really need you right now," he implored, giving her a puppy-dog look. It was a tactic he used to use all the time when he was younger to get what he wanted.

She looked away from him, her lips pursed, her face screwed up in thought. After a long pause, she finally voiced her question. "How- how long is this going to take?"

Dean was the one to answer. "Four days."

She sighed out loud, a wearied sound that echoed in the silence. "You do realize I have a real job, right?" she asked, a note of exasperation in her voice.

Dean rolled his eyes, a retort already forming on his lips. But before he could speak, Y/N interrupted him.

"Fine, I’ll go with you two," she said, her voice resigned.

Dean smiled lightly, relief flooding his features. "Thank you, Y/N."

And so, they walked together to Dean's car, unaware of the challenges and dangers that lay ahead of them.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x platonic reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x older sister reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x older sister reader #winchester!reader #Y/N winchester #dean winchester fanfic #sam winchester fanfic

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jasmines-library · 10 months

Text

Hey Jude

Summary: When a demon hunt doesn't go to plan, the Winchesters have to rush to save their little sister. Though to make matters worse, once back home in the safety of the bunker her wound gets infected. With their angel friend MIA, Sam and Dean must battle time to find a way to help their sister.

Warnings: (Kinda Graphic) description of injury, Near death experience, infection and illness, one? swear word, angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.8K

Note: this is my first spn fic so I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

It came from almost nowhere.

You hadn’t sensed it coming, too tied up with the demon before you. She was tall and wore her dark hair slicked back in a ponytail. With much effort, you had managed to pin her up against the wall, away from her three friends who your brothers were occupied with. Dean managed to gank the blonde one with Ruby’s knife. She lit up like a candle before slumping lifelessly to the ground. He glanced in your direction to see that you were managing fine, before slinking off to help Sam who was juggling two demon skanks of his own.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritu-”

The Latin had barely slipped from your lips when shit hit the fan. The woman got a hit on you, sending you reeling away from the graffitied wall, enough for her to slip out of your binding grip. You narrowed your eyes at the woman, reeling your arm back for another punch. She just smirked, her black eyes glistening under the moonlight. And that was when you felt it. A blinding white pain that blossomed across your abdomen and tore its way around body like someone had lit a bomb and your veins were the fuse. You collided harshly with the damp concrete, the sound ricocheting across the narrow street. You could feel the crushing weight of the hellhound above you and feel its hot breath fanning across your neck as you struggled, desperate from some sort of release though you could hardly move, trapped within the agonies of the invisible claws buried inches deep within your skin. Your cry of anguish had your brothers’ heads snapping towards your writhing frame. Their screams lost within your own. You gaped blindly at the dog above you. If it wasn’t for the hellhound’s snarling, or the blood seeping from the lacerations on your stomach, you would have had no clue what hit you. It felt like an eternity before the crushing weight was lifted from you and Dean came into view. The knife in hand was dripping with blood. He quickly discarded it on the floor and was by your side in an instant, pressing down harshly on your abdomen to slow the bleeding. He recoiled slightly when you let out a cry of pain.

“I know, I know it hurts. I'm sorry sweetheart.” Dean tried to soothe you, but he could already see the blood oozing between his fingers.

You watched him through blurry, pain tinted lenses, eyes moving frantically, struggling to focus on one area too long. Dean’s panicked complexion never left your body. His green eyes trailed your damaged body, swimming with worry.

“De…” what came out of your mouth in between your ragged gasps for air was hardly audible. Dean would have missed it if his senses weren’t so honed in on you.

“Shh,” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Don’t talk kiddo. Sammy’s coming. Sammy’s gonna get here and then we’re gonna take you back to the bunker and we’re gonna fix you up okay?”

You nodded feebly.

There was a squeal of rubber and the blinding light of the Impala’s headlights filling the dingy alley before Sam’s mop of hair came into view.

The ghost of a smile found its way onto your lips as your breathing began to slow. “Sammy...” you mumbled, watching your older brother move to your side.

“I’m here, kid. ” He reassured as he slid one of his arms under your knees and the other under your back. The brothers shared a silent look before they stood up, shifting you from the cold concrete. You screamed and cried out in pain as you were jostled around in Sam’s arms. Dean’s bloody hands were replaced with one of his flannel shirts which Sam was plastering to your wound as the two of them raced the short distance to the car. It hurt Sam to watch the way that your face contorted in pain with each giant step he took. Each whimper that escaped your lips had Dean shuddering. Once you were secured against Sam’s chest in the car, Dean had never moved quicker than he did to the front seat to press his foot on the gas and send the car hurtling down the road to the bunker.

Your head lolled against Sam’s chest as he held you close and whispered reassurances into your ear. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself. A deep pit had settled at the bottom of his stomach. “You’re gonna be fine. We’ve got you.” he repeated like a mantra when you whimpered. When you didn’t respond, he glanced down to see that your eyes had begun to droop closed, the effort of keeping them open had just become too much as you slowly lost sensation across your body. Your fingers and toes had began to go numb, all feeling lost within them

“No, no.” Sam cupped the side of your face with his hand and tilted it gently towards his. Your skin was pale and clammy and your cheeks were lined with tracks of tears that had beaded down your face. “Look at me Y/N, don’t close your eyes.” Sam’s voice seemed to raise an octave as he choked out his worry.

You tried to keep them open. You really did, but your eyelids had begun to feel like lead and keeping them was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. You struggled, but as the black spots began to consume your vision, you gave in and let unconsciousness claim you.

Sam cursed and tapped the side of your face desperately. Dean glanced back at his younger siblings. He saw the way that your frame was curled up against Sam’s, looking even smaller than you were supposed to in his arms. He pressed his foot even harder on the pedal when he saw the way that Sam’s face ignited with fear as he listened to the soft thrum of your heart; all out of beat and losing time.

~~~

When you peeled your eyes open, and they had adjusted to the harsh light in the room, the first thing you were aware of was the throbbing in your abdomen. Gingerly, you had tried to push yourself up, much to the protests of the muscles in your shaky arms. You had barely managed to get halfway up before you were being eased back down again by a pair of calloused hands.

“Take it easy, kid.” Dean said. He had been slumped in a old green chair half asleep when you had begun to rouse. There were dark bags under his eyes and he looked as if he hadn’t slept since he got back. That was something you knew Dean did when he was worried.

You blinked groggily. You looked like you had had a run in with death. I suppose you weren’t too far off. Your head was pounding and your skin was still devout of its colour, besides the dark bags that dropped beneath your sunken eyes. The throbbing around your stitches had quickly begun to feel much worse as the itchiness set in. “How long was I out?”

“ ‘Bout a day.” he told you, tracing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. His skin was rough from years of hands on work, but his tough was gentle and far from what you’d expect for a man in his line of work. “Sammy sewed you up.”

You hummed gratefully, gathering your brewing for a moment. Once you had had a moment to think, it all seemed to come flooding back to you.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered.

“What?” Dean had to do a second take. “Sweetheart, what are you sorry for?”

“If I had ganked the bitch faster then-”

“No. No. This isn’t your fault.” Your brother said sternly. “If I had gone to you instead of Sam then-”

A tall figure appeared in the doorway to the infirmary, he had to hunch slightly to fit the whole of his tall frame in. He bore two cups of coffee in his hands and too looked as if he hadn’t slept a wink in a few days. Stubble had begun to make itself prominent on his cheeks.

“Dean, for the last time, this isn’t your -” Sam stopped when he saw you staring at him. He was at your side in seconds after placing the coffee on the table by Dean, then pulling you into a hug. You groaned at the pull of your stitches. “How you feeling?”

“Like I've been hit by a bus.”

Sam chuckled, though he furrowed his brows. “That bad, huh?”

You shrugged.

Gesturing towards your stomach, Sam asked “Mind if I take a look?”

“Go ahead.”

Peeling back the white sheets and lifting up the hem of your shirt, Sam revealed the white bandage fitted snugly to your body. He then untucked the bandage and gingerly unravelled it to reveal the angry redness and the pus that had gathered around the neat rows of stitches.

“Shit.” Dean uttered. He was trying not to panic, but the way forehead etched with concern gave it away.

“What’s going on?” You craned your neck to try and see the damage, but you were hit with a wave of vertigo that made you slump back against the bed.

“It’s infected.”

“What…?”

Sam’s gaze followed the length of your stitched skin. 16 stitches in total, all in three rows across your abdomen and down towards you right hip. They would leave a nasty scar, but nothing that a Hunter wasn’t used to. He followed the red lightning-like pattern that the infection had left on your skin.

“How the heck did it get infected, Sam? Didn’t you clean it?” Dean demanded.

“Of course I cleaned it.” Sam shuddered at them memory of pouring the alcohol into your wound. He remembered the way you unconsciously flinched as the needle sank into your skin. He remembered the way that your heart and your breathing slowed as Dean raced towards the bunker.

“Well clearly-”

“Stop.” You whispered. “Please.”

Both men stopped their bickering and turned to you. You looked so small and fragile lying there in that bed; your complexion nearly as pale as the room around you. Sam looked guilty. His eyes found the ground and he fiddled with his hands nervously in his lap. Dean’s furious features softened. He knew it wasn’t Sam’s fault really, he had just let his worry morph into anger. The alley had been filthy and in the rush to stop the bleeding, he wasn’t surprised that some of the dirt had managed to conceal itself. The wound was deep and time was running thin.

“Come on. Let's get you sorted out.”

~~~

The infection had taken hold of you quickly. Despite the brothers cleaning your wound and dosing you up on antibiotics, only after a day or so; you were now fighting a fever.

Sam placed a hand on your forehead. Your skin was too hot and clammy, but shivers racked your body like you had just been dunked in an ice bath. Sam moved some of the hair that had stuck to the beads of sweat on your forehead away from your eyes and frowned deeply, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle of his forehead. You were curled up on your bed, trying your hardest to pull the sheets even closer to your body. Your brothers had moved you out of the infirmary and into your room a few days ago after they had discovered that your wound was infected. Dean had insisted that it would provide you with a better sense of comfort than the eerily pristine walls and uncomfy beds of the infirmary. Your room was also a lot closer to theirs, which meant that they could keep an eye on you easier. That had put a small smile on your lips, what took it away however was when Dean refused to let you have your thick blankets. Your protests nearly made him cave and give them back, but he knew that if he did you would overheat and they couldn’t risk that with how high your fever was running.

A dry coughing fit tore its way through you, leaving you wheezing once it had subsided. Since the fever took you in its clutches a few days ago, the boys had watched you deteriorate. It broke them to see you like this; a ghost of the person you usually were. Sam knelt down to face you on the bed. Your eyes were barely open as you struggled against the exhaustion, but the fever wasn’t letting you sleep. “Y/N?” Sam asked gently.

You pushed your eyes open weakly.

“Hey.” He smiled at you and reached blindly for the glass of water that was on the bedside table. Easing you up, he held the cup to your chapped lips and helped you take small sips of the water and then another antibiotic. He placed the glass back on the side and moved to pull the covers away from you. You tried to turn away, but whimpered when pain flared through your wound.

“I know, I know. But we have to change them.”

Reluctantly, you allowed your brother to pull the covers away from your body. You felt like the air was stabbing you with icicles when it hit your body. You shuddered and Sam looked at you with pity. Watching your brother work as he removed the bandages was what you opted to do take your mind off of the way you were feeling. Sam’s face scrunched as he concentrated, his hair falling across his eyes. He pinched hs bottom lip between his teeth as he unraveled your wound. Your brothers had tried desperately to stop the infection from spreading, but now the wound had swelled to twice the size and it had become an even darker shade of angry. Sucking in a breath, Sam began to redress it with fresh bandages.

Sam and Dean had been taking great care of you. You were barely left alone and they always seemed to have everything you needed on hand. The pair would take it in turns to sit by you for hours and make sure your fever didn’t get too high, while the other searched for any way to help you. Dean had tried a million times to get Cas down here, but he was always left with no reply, only a silence that seemed too loud. He had even tried threatening him, but still, the angel never showed. He then moved on to help Sam with the stack of books that he was skimming through. It seemed as though the pile would never end as the two of them searched. Logically, one of the first things they had considered was driving you to the nearest hospital, but they had opted out of it, figuring that it was too dangerous to move you that far in your state and that it would be too hard to explain how you received wounds like that. Of course, then they were hoping that Cas wouldn’t ignore his angel radio, or that they would have found a spell within one of these books much faster.

Sam sat with you for a while, tapping his foot repeatedly and playing with his hands as he made conversation with you, trying to bring smiles to your sunken features. Sam loved it when you smiled; they were pure, golden. you could light up a whole room with one. When the three of you were younger, when you still wore your hair in pigtails and were too young and to go on hunts with your brothers and your dad, Sam remembered how he used to yearn for that smile whilst he was away, how they made him feel whole again when he returned and he’d wrap you up in his arms and you’d greet him with a big smile on your face.

Sam told you stories of his hunts, of embarrassing stories that he swore he wouldn’t tell anyone and of his favourite memories of the three of you until he thought you had finally let sleep take you under. You had stopped interrupting his stories with your own quips, or giggling at his jokes, though when he stood, the old chair creaking as he rose, and began to move as quietly as his boots would let him towards the door, your meek voice spoke up.

“Sammy?”

He hummed at the nickname.

“Thank you.” You said.

“Anytime kid.” He smiled sadly, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re gonna be okay Y/N. I promise.”

~~~

Not too long after Sam had left your room, Dean floated in. He wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or not at the fact you were still awake, gazing vacantly into empty space. Dean knew that sleep had never come easy to you, even as a small child. You used to crawl into his bed at night, seeking comfort. Another cough shook your frame as your eldest brother came further into the room. After ensuring you were okay, he replaced his brother in the seat beside you and took your hand.

“Can’t sleep, huh?”

You shook your head. That was when Dean climbed in to the bed behind you, tucking you to his chest like he used to when you were just small. He ran his fingers through your hair as he listened to your raspy and short breaths. He felt you shift to look up at him.

“De?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Sing to me? Like when we were little?”

Dean smiled as you pulled yourself closer to his chest. You breathed in the scent of his old band shirt and his cologne as he began to sing.

“Hey Jude, don't make it bad, Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, Then you can start to make it better.

Hey Jude, don't be afraid You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, Then you begin to make it better.

And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain, Don't carry the world upon your shoulders. For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool By making his world a little colder.”

Dean was still singing when Sam came back to your room with a bowl in hand. His face lit up at the sight of you curled up in Dean’s arms. When Dean finally lifted his head away from yours and looked up to see his little brother hovering in the doorway, Sam was singing with him under his breath. It only took him a few steps to cross the distanced between the door and your bed and when he reached you, he pulled the book out from the arm it was tucked beneath and placed the bowl on your desk. The book was leather bound, and was at least an inch or so thick. It was once red, though with time and use it seemed to have lost its colouring to the grey fraying around the edges. The pages of the book were dirty too, thinned by age. The bowl, carved from wood and decorated with an ornate gold, seemed to be filled with herbs and other mojo that Dean didn’t even want to know about.

“I found a spell.” Sam told him, a grin sneaking across his face. “She’s gonna be okay.”

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book-place-incorrect-quotes · 10 months

Text

Y/N: *holding a python* Guys, I impulsively bought a snake, what should I name him?

Sam: I’m sorry, YOU DID WHAT–

Dean: *who’s waited his whole life for this moment* William Snakepeare

#supernatural incorrect quotes #spn incorrect quotes #supernatural #spn #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader platonic #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x sister reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader platonic

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book-place · 1 year

Text

Arts and Crafts Disaster

Warnings: blood, papers cuts, slight cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Castiel x reader platonic, Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader

Request: hello :))) I have a request!! Can you do a castiel x child reader where castiel has to babysit child reader again, but child reader somehow injured themself and dean and sam come back from a hunt to a crying child reader and a panicky cas? thanks!! love your stories btw<33

Request by: @homowholikespace

*not my gif*

Summary: Cas is back to babysit again

A/N: There’s some references to a past work of mine —> Of Cats and Angels; Also, yes paper cuts do hurt that much. No, it’s not dramatic

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Cassie!” You cheered as soon as the angel landed in the bunker's library, hurrying over and wrapping your arms tightly around his leg in a hug.

“Hello, Y/n.” He greeted, patting the top of your head fondly.

“Thanks again for watching her, Cas.” Dean spoke up, striding into the room as he slung a duffel bag containing all he would need for the upcoming hunt over his shoulder.

“It is no problem.” He answered the eldest Winchester honestly, nodding along as you already began babbling to him about one thing or another.

Dean gave him a smile, clapping him on the back before trailing after Sam, who had walked up the stairs and out into the garage moments ago.

The two of them were going out on a hunt a couple miles away, so they called up their angel friend to babysit you once more. Considering the last time had been a success, save for the newfound kitten that now roamed the halls of the bunker.

“Say ‘hi’ to Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens, Cassie!” You demanded, presenting the cat up to him as soon as your brother disappeared.

“Hello, Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens.” He echoed, reaching out a finger and gently scratching the small thing behind its ear.

You grinned up at him, satisfied, and set the cat free on the ground, “What are we gonna do today?” You asked eagerly.

From the look on your face, he could tell you were hoping that today would end with you gaining a new pet again. But he couldn’t let that happen, he doubted your brothers would let it slide again. It was pure luck he got away unscathed after they found out about Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens last time.

“How about some arts and crafts?” Castiel suggested.

After the last time, he had done some research on what children liked to do, and this was one of the top results he had found.

You squealed, nodding up and down happily before skipping off to go get some art supplies Sam had left in a nearby closet for you and returned with a box filled to the brim with different papers, colored pencils, markers, and crayons.

You happily dumped them on a table and you and Cas set to work, a determined silence falling over the two of you like a blanket.

Working side by side, you each were laser focused on your own projects at hand, Castiel trying to draw a rainbow with the perfect mix of colors, and you working hard to draw a family picture of you and your brothers- featuring Castiel and Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens, of course.

This went on for hours. Every time one of you finished your drawings, you wouldn’t find it satisfying enough, and would crumble it into a ball, toss it into a nearby wastebasket, and start over. There was definitely something admirable about both of your determination to get your pieces of art just right.

Finally, a wide grin broke out onto your face as you stared down at your paper, “Cassie! Cassie, look! I did it-“ You whipped your paper into your hands all too quickly to try and show the angel your finished product. The material sliced across your finger in such a way that it began to bleed immediately. Paper cut.

Both of you stilled for all of a minute, until the pain stung harsh and fast and tears began to fill your eyes.

You began wailing right away, sticking out your wounded hand as if it was infected, and Cas’s panic quickly filled his silent void.

“Are you alright?” He asked hurriedly, “What can I-“

You just kept bawling though, the sting of the paper cut that dug deep fresh in your pain.

Poor Castiel had no idea what to do. He had never been in this situation before. Sure, he could reach over and easily heal you with a touch, but all logic seemed to fly out of his mind the second you began sobbing.

“Hey! We’re home!” As always, Dean and Sam burst in at just the wrong moment.

The second your cries reached their ears, they flew down the stairs in a blur of movement and panic, very similar to Castiels, not stopping until they were right in front of the two of you.

“What is it?” Dean panted instantly, “What’s wrong?”

With a wobbling lip, you held out your scarred finger to them, and they both let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sam cooed, shoulders relaxing as he scooped you up into his arms, letting you burrow your face into the crook of his neck, “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

He lead you off to get a bandaid and Dean whirled around to face Cas as soon as he was out of sight, “What the hell, man?” He demanded.

The angel shrugged helplessly, “Just a moment ago she started crying very loudly and I didn’t know-“

You and Sam entered back in the room, hand in hand, as you wiped your eyes and nose with the back of your sleeve, calming down significantly.

“Are you alright?” Cas immediately asked in concern.

You nodded shyly, focusing your eyes on the ground as you shuffled your feet up and down.

Sam smiled down at you softly, squeezing your hand gently in reassurance, “She’s alright, just got a bit freaked out, that’s all.”

You sniffled slightly, gently letting go of Sam’s hand and walking back over to the table, lifting up your drawing- very carefully this time- to show the three men your hard work.

“Wow, great job, kiddo.” Dean praised instantly, reaching over and ruffling your hair, emitting giggles from you.

Sam grinned, studying the drawing of himself, “The hair is spot on.” He remarked.

“It looks wonderful, Y/n.” Castiel told you honestly.

All four of you were standing in a line in the picture, holding hands and wearing bright smiles, Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens of course hanging a couple inches above all of you in the air, doing so with the powers you were convinced he had and just never used when you were all around.

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader platonic #dean winchester #castiel x reader #castiel #sam winchester x sister reader #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester x reader platonic #sam winchester x reader #spn x reader #castiel x reader platonic #child reader #sister reader

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pinchofhoney · 8 months

Note

Omg Dean Winchester x Reader (platonic) where Dean and Sam are on a hunt and maybe reader was kidnapped??? And when they save her, she just immediately gets attached to Dean? Like she can't leave his side and at first he's really annoyed but eventually gets used to it?

(Sorry for all of my platonic requests I just don't see enough of them 😅)

frozen fear

dean winchester x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

warning: platonic relationship, mild swearing, one description may be disturbing to some readers, comfort

summary: Life has a way of humbling even the bravest, and it's not always a gentle lesson.

a/n: hello!! thank you so much for your request! i had a lot of fun working on it; while planning the plot i felt the same feeling i had when writing my little fiction stories before my disappearance and honestly i missed it a lot!! but, in the middle of writing, i realized that it escaped my attention that you wanted it to be just sam with dean on the hunt, so unfortunately the text i wrote will be a little different from your request:(( i'm so sorry, i hope you enjoy the story anyway!

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @one-sweet-gubler @lonelywitchv2

gif is not mine, credit to @/justjensenanddean

You shifted onto your back, letting your tired eyes wander across the shadowy ceiling. The wall clock's relentless ticking concealed the time, but you were certain that sleep should have already claimed you by now. Resting in one of the motel's less-than-cozy beds, nestled near Telluride, Colorado, the room's silence was intermittently shattered by Dean's unrelenting snoring, which was pushing you to the brink of madness.

With a soft sigh, you raised yourself into a seated position, your hands cradling your tired face, a silent battle raging within you to resist the urge to suffocate Dean with a pillow. Your gaze darted to the sleeping Sam, then settled on Dean's back as he lay on his side.

You arrived in town alongside the Winchester brothers, ready to tackle a puzzling string of mountain disappearances. The circumstances surrounding the case remained a mystery to you, with the root cause still shrouded in uncertainty. Although you had your suspicions, you knew there was plenty of work ahead, and the prospect of a sleepless night didn't exactly lift your spirits.

You arched your head back, returning your gaze to the ceiling as another sigh escaped your lips. At last, you shifted your legs over the edge of the bed, rising to your feet. Your hand reached for one of the brothers' jackets, and with a simple motion, you exited the room. You hoped that a quick walk in the cold, fresh night air could make you sleepy. Maybe the wind will whip me into such a state that I'll lose my hearing and finally drift off to sleep, you thought slightly amused, looking for positives in this pathetic situation.

The sun's faint morning rays began to seep through the curtains of the dimly lit motel room. Sam stirred in his bed, his sleep-laden eyes blinking open as he noticed the absence of a familiar presence beside him. He frowned and turned his head, only to find an empty bed where you had been resting just hours before.

Sam sat up abruptly, his heart racing as he scanned the room. Dean, who had been sprawled out in another bed, all this time snoring softly, was now roused by Sam's sudden movement. He blinked blearily, struggling to comprehend the situation.

“Dean!” Sam hissed urgently, his voice tinged with alarm. “Wake up! Y/N's gone!”

Dean sat up sluggishly, not entirely comprehending the commotion. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for alarm. Nobody had forcefully confined you to the room, so it seemed obvious to him that you had simply risen early for a morning stroll.

“Sam, relax,” Dean muttered, not quite grasping the gravity of the situation yet. “Y/N probably stepped out for breakfast or something. She'll be back.”

But as Sam's gaze darted around the room, he noticed something that heightened his unease. “Dean,” he said, his voice tinged with increasing concern, pointing at the empty hook where Dean's jacket should have been hanging.

Dean finally started to stir fully awake, glancing at the vacant hook, and then back at Sam. “Okay, so maybe Y/N took my jacket too. It's not a big deal.”

As Dean spoke, Sam's eyes fell upon something on the nightstand. It was your phone, usually never left behind. He grabbed it and held it up for Dean to see. “Dean, Y/N's phone is here,” Sam said with a sense of growing concern. “She wouldn't have gone anywhere without it.”

Dean's eyebrows furrowed as the realization set in. The absence of both you and your phone suddenly felt more ominous. “Alright, let's not jump to conclusions,” he said, though the unease in his voice was palpable. “We'll wait a little longer, but if she doesn't come back soon, we need to check things out and see if there's anything else strange going on.”

Tick.

Tock.

Tick.

Tock.

The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock served as a relentless reminder of time slipping away

Dean fought to keep his emotions in check, methodically going about his morning routine, from toothbrush to getting dressed. His emotions were simmering beneath the surface, but he was determined not to let them get the best of him.

Meanwhile, Sam perched at the table, your mobile phone resting prominently before him. His gaze remained fixed on the device, a glimmer of hope that you might soon breeze through the room door, bearing coffee and a bagel, filling the space with your familiar presence.

“It's a quarter past eight already,” Sam remarked, his eyes shifting to his brother. He leaned on the table, his fingers anxiously toying with the first signs of stubble on his chin. “We have no idea when she left,” he added with a touch of frustration.

Dean pondered the situation briefly, meeting Sam's gaze before letting out an exasperated huff. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his annoyance clear in his expression and tone.

The mounting tension in the room finally propelled the brothers into action. Dean grabbed his flannel shirt, throwing it on, and Sam slipped your phone into his pocket before they headed toward the motel room door.

“We’ve got to figure out what’s going on,” Sam declared, his voice determined.

Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set. “I swear I'm gonna fucking kill her if she's just making fun of us.”

As they prepared to leave, Sam hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He glanced back at the room, a glimmer of hope still flickering in his eyes. “Let's leave the door unlocked,” he said quietly, as much to reassure himself as Dean. “Just in case Y/N comes back.”

With that, they stepped out into the brisk morning, making quick strides in the direction of the parked Impala.

You slowly regained consciousness, a disorienting haze clouding your senses. Your body ached with a piercing pain, and a strange, unpleasant feeling gnawed at you. Panic coursed through your veins as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

It was pitch black, and you couldn't see a thing. The air was thick with a noxious stench that seemed to cling to your very skin. Your head throbbed with a dull ache, and you groaned, attempting to move, only to realize that your limbs were bound, and you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you.

Panic turned to terror as your hands met resistance above your head. You strained your neck, struggling to see what lay beyond you. And then, as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the horrifying truth revealed itself.

You were hanging from the ceiling, head down, alongside two other lifeless bodies. Their forms dangled grotesquely, and it was clear they had been here for some time, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.

The realization hit you like a sledgehammer. You were trapped in a Wendigo's cave, your own fate hanging precariously above you. Your heart pounded, and terror coursed through your veins as you fought to remain as still and silent as possible, praying that the creature responsible for this nightmare wouldn't return anytime soon.

As you pored over the Winchester brothers' father's journal, your suspicions honed in on the Wendigo as the likely culprit behind the recent disappearances. Still, you couldn't help but question the accuracy of your deduction. While it was true that the brothers had successfully hunted down one of these creatures before, encountering a Wendigo in Colorado felt like a rare occurrence, far from their usual hunting grounds.

There was no room for doubt now, but finding yourself on the potential victim list hardly allowed you to relish your accurate suspicions.

Your heart raced in your chest, its thunderous beats resonating in your ears like a drumroll of dread. The blood surged to your face, turning it into a stifling mask of heat and anxiety. What made it all the more unbearable was the uncertainty, not knowing how long you'd been hanging there or when the fiendish creature might return to its lair.

Straining your ears, you listened intently for any hint of the creature's reappearance, but the stifling silence held sway.

Then, a faint yet unmistakable sound reached your ears—a distant shuffle, accompanied by muffled voices. Hope surged within you as you recognized the voices. It was Sam and Dean.

Tears welled up in your eyes as their voices drew nearer, and you struggled to rein in the overwhelming rush of relief and joy. Their flashlights cast wavering beams that danced eerily on the cave walls as they advanced cautiously.

“Y/N?” Sam's voice reverberated through the cave, laced with concern.

You managed a weak response, your voice trembling with emotion. “Here!”

Their flashlights swept over you, illuminating your precarious predicament. A mixture of shock and unwavering determination twisted their faces as they took in the horrifying scene before them.

A wave of relief washed over you like a soothing tide as Sam and Dean hurried to your side. Sam swiftly sized up the situation, his nible fingers skillfully working to free you from your bindings. With each passing moment, the suffocating grip of fear and captivity began to loosen its hold.

Dean, standing guard with unwavering vigilance, maintained a watchful eye on the cave's entrance, ensuring that the Wendigo wouldn't return to catch you in a vulnerable moment. His weapon remained poised and ready

As Sam's efforts finally set you free, you were lowered gently to the cave floor. Weak and disoriented, you clung to him, finding solace in the reassuring presence of your friends amidst the foreboding darkness that had held you captive.

With you safely on the cave floor, Sam turned his attention to your well-being, his concern etched on his face. “Y/N, are you okay? Can you stand?”

You nodded weakly, your voice quivering from a mixture of exhaustion and unease. “I think so.”

In response, Dean allowed himself a small sigh of relief, his furrowed brow smoothing out somewhat. He turned his attention back to you, his worry palpable. “Can you fill us in, Y/N? We all went to bed in the motel room, and now you're hanging in this cave. What the heck happened?”

Balancing yourself with Sam's support, you drew in a steadying breath to calm your frazzled nerves. “I don't know, Dean,” you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and frustration. “Your snoring was so deafening that I was on the brink of committing a crime. I had to escape the room for some respite, and then... Then I woke up here, like this, with no idea how I ended up in this nightmare.”

The haunting memory of that heart-stopping moment lingered in the air, causing your eyes to brim with tears once more. It was at this very moment that the full weight of the situation began to sink in—what might have befallen you, the chilling possibility of ending up like the lifeless body you had been hanging beside just moments ago.

As you gazed upon the concerned expressions of the men, the urge to reassure them that you were alright welled up within you. You only needed a little time to collect yourself. However, something beyond their shoulders seized your attention with a grip far stronger.

Your eyes widened in sheer terror, and your heart raced, momentarily clouding your thoughts with a hazy fog of panic. It took you a precious moment to summon the words, but finally, your voice found a way past your constricted vocal cords. “D-Dean!” you exclaimed with a raised voice, your trembling finger pointing emphatically toward the gaping maw of the cave entrance.

Your panicked cry pierced the cave's silence, and the Winchester brothers pivoted toward the cave entrance, their expressions shifting from concern to sheer determination.

Before your eyes, the Wendigo emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form illuminated by the flickering light of Sam and Dean's flashlights. The monster snarled, a chilling, otherworldly sound that sent shivers down your spine.

Sam and Dean wasted no time. With a practiced synchronicity born from years of hunting, they unleashed a torrent of fire upon the creature. Flames danced and crackled in the cave's depths, casting unnatural, shifting shadows.

The Wendigo roared in agony as the flames consumed it, its monstrous form writhing in torment. The stench of burning flesh and the creature's wails filled the cave, creating a nightmarish tableau of desperation.

You wanted to do something, to help the Winchesters in some way, but fear paralyzed you. You'd encountered countless demons, monsters, and shapeshifters in the past, but facing this particular breed of creature was an entirely unprecedented experience for you.

As the Wendigo was consumed by the flames, its otherworldly shrieks reached a deafening crescendo before being abruptly silenced. The once-terrifying monster was now nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes, its threat extinguished by the relentless fire.

Sam and Dean turned to you, their expressions now radiant with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Sam extended a hand toward you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here.”

You nodded, your throat still tight with the remnants of fear, and took Sam's hand as he helped you to your feet. Dean followed, his grip firm on your shoulder, offering silent support.

The three of you made your way out of the cave, stepping back into the cool night air of the Colorado woods. The moon cast a pale, comforting glow upon the landscape, a stark contrast to the horrors you had just faced.

As you reached the Impala parked nearby the forest, Dean spoke, his voice tinged with weariness. “We'll head back to the motel, Y/N. You need some rest.”

Sam nodded in agreement as he opened the car door for you. “And a hot shower wouldn't hurt either.”

You climbed into the car, the leather seats offering a welcome comfort. Dean took the driver's seat, and Sam settled in beside you.

The engine roared to life, and as the Impala rumbled down the winding forest road, Sam turned to you with a small, reassuring smile. “You did great back there, Y/N. We've got your back.”

The only source of comfort during this terrible ordeal was Dean's jacket, now worn and stained. It still clung to your shoulders, providing a bit of solace. You folded your arms across your chest, embracing the jacket's familiar warmth as if it was a security blanket. Taking a deep breath, you tried to reassure yourself that the nightmare was over and you were now safe.

Recent events had shattered your belief in your own fearlessness, exposing the simple truth that you had a long way to go before you could match Sam and Dean's hunting prowess. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at you, making you question whether you were truly prepared to reach their level of expertise.

Weeks drifted by, and the memories of the Wendigo's cave continued to haunt your every waking moment. Anxiety had taken root deep within you, coiling around your thoughts like a relentless serpent. To cope, you found solace in staying as close to Dean Winchester as possible, as if his presence alone could shield you from the lingering horrors.

However, this newfound need for constant presence began to grate on Dean's nerves. He valued his personal space and independence, and your persistent closeness was beginning to wear on him.

One evening, as you shadowed his every move in the bunker, Dean couldn't help but voice his frustration. “Y/N,” he began, his tone laced with irritation, “I appreciate you being cautious, but you don't have to be glued to my side every second.”

Your eyes widened, and you stammered a response, “I-I'm just trying to be safe, Dean. You know, in case something happens again.”

Dean sighed, his irritation softening into understanding as he looked at you. He leaned in closer, his voice gentle but firm. “Y/N, I know you're scared, and it's okay to be cautious. But you have to remember, we're hunters. Our lives are filled with risks, and we've faced worse than that Wendigo together.”

He continued, his eyes locking onto yours, “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you, but you also have to take care of yourself. Being a hunter means facing fear head-on, and sometimes that means standing on your own two feet.”

You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. Dean was right; you couldn't let fear rule your life forever.

With Dean's words echoing in your mind, you began to make a conscious effort to rely on yourself more. There were moments when you found the courage to try out on your own, even if it was just for a short while, to confront the remnants of your fear. Gradually, you felt a glimmer of your old, independent self resurfacing.

But there were still times when the weight of anxiety bore down on you, and in those moments, you sought solace in Dean's presence. You found comfort in his unwavering support and understanding. He noticed your struggles and approached them with patience and acceptance.

Instead of pushing you away when you clung to him, Dean embraced your need for reassurance. He let you lean on him when the anxiety became overwhelming, understanding that healing was a gradual process. Whether it was a reassuring word, a comforting touch, or simply his silent presence, Dean was there for you.

You both found a balance. You were getting better at facing your fears, and Dean was getting better at being there when you needed support.

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another.

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards.

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often.

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since.

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found.

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered.

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening.

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala.

“You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream.

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done.

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said.

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence?

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man.

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer.

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in.

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated.

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected.

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later.

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first.

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?”

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently.

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?”

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated.

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times.

“Like?”

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly.

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.”

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly.

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.”

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head.

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder?

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to.

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?”

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.”

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion.

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me.

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

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#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #familiar #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #case fic #monster of the week #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #writing prompt

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