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green-typewriterz · 1 month

Note

i would love literally anything sam winchester related the lack of fics r astounding.. maybe something fluffy?? ive had a bad week would so cheer me up

Best fake-real husband

ASKS ARE OPEN

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: You and Sam go undercover in a small town to find out what's been happening to the disappearing couples.

ASK: above

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, awkward moments, mid season sam (in my mind it’s season 5 so its not following canon plot)

Author notes: Thankyou so much for the ask!!! I hope this is good :))) also Sam is the leader of the Sassy man army and if you don’t think so you can leave. Also thank you to @midsummeranderson for helping me plan <3

word count: 4110

You had always hated suburban houses, they just seemed empty, unforgiving. Though you didn’t have much of a choice. Bobby had a case and you two were to go undercover.

”Husband and wife…” Sam began, a glint in his eyes as he moved around the open plan kitchen, opening the windows to salve the heat that bit at their necks.

You smiled in reply, laying out weapons to move to the spare room. “Not awkward at all.” You replied and he laughed, shrugging his usual flannel onto a chair and digging into his bag.

Sam looked up, smiling, holding two rings in his hand. “Nope. I’m going to be the best fake-real husband ever. Dean thinks I can’t and I’m kinda determined to prove him wrong.” You sigh and shake your head, but there’s no annoyance behind it. Trust Dean to make a game out of it.

A piece of hair fell in front of his eyes - it’s so long now that it reaches his shoulders, princelike. “Well then I guess I’ll have to be a good wife.” He hummed in agreement and you tucked his hair back behind his ear and a smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’m off to a good start, Sam Heathcliff.”

You gently slipped the ring onto your finger, the metal slightly too big for you. It was your grandmothers, a mix of silver and sapphire. Sam places his dad’s wedding band on his own hand, fiddling with it gently. It made you smile softly, how the ring was cold against your skin - your grandmother had always wanted you to wear it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your memories and the two of you looked to each other with confusion, Dean wasn’t meant to be here until later that evening. You opened the door cautiously, flitting into character when you saw a 57 year old woman holding a large pie in her hands.

She grinned cheerily, pushing the dish forward into your hands as she spoke, you didn’t really have another choice but to take it (you’d probably hand it off to Dean later.) “Hi,” the voice sounded fake, satirical. She never met your eyes, she was almost entirely focused on Sam. “I heard there was a new couple in town, thought I’d do the neighbourly thing and say hi.” She began, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a particularly suggestive manner. “We’d love to have you over this weekend, monthly barbeque.”

You looked at Sam, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving and wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’d love to…” you waited for a name, the woman smiled with annoyance, as if she hated you speaking to her.

“Helen. Watson.”

The two of you introduced yourself and agreed to go, knowing the gathering would be useful to get information. With one last glance at Sam, Helen turned around and left, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Dean came round that evening, constantly grinning and mocking and (as you had expected) he greeted the pie with open arms. “Look you two,” he began, as if he were an expert on the subject, “You’re practically a couple already, just… act like you’re in your honeymoon phase for the old women.”

He stated this as if it were an obvious fact and you raised your brows at his use of the word ‘honeymoon’. Sam looked away in annoyance (Something Dean found extremely funny). It seemed as though the younger Winchester couldn’t wait to get rid of Dean and so, as soon as he had finished his pie, he was forced out the door and back to the impala. There was a second sigh of relief when the door closed.

Though it had seemed like a smart idea at the time, the two of you were sorely regretting filling the spare room with hunting gear as it had left you with one bedroom. “I’ll take the couch,” Sam said as he gathered some clothes to sleep in, you stood in the doorway, arms folded as you shook your head.

“Not a chance, you’d barely fit on this bed imagine how uncomfortable you'd be downstairs.” You argued and he shook his head, trying to claim that he’d slept worse. Eventually, the two of you came to an agreement. Sam would sleep over the covers, you’d sleep under them (he always got hot at night anyway - especially during the summer).

You excused yourself to the bathroom and by the time you had gotten back Sam was already asleep, long hair falling gently over his eyes. You lay down beside him and got comfortable, though you forgot just how much Sam moved in his sleep. He seemed to subconsciously move closer to you, warm, tan skin flush against yours.

His face was inches from yours, holding a gentle smile as if he were happily dreaming (though that was something that didn’t happen often). You gently moved the hair from his eyes and he moved closer still, broad shoulders brushing against you. You fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth and awoke with his arms wrapped securely around you. He wasn’t awake yet, you always woke up before him.

You eventually found it in yourself to move from his grip and headed downstairs, intending to make breakfast for the two of you. He was downstairs a few moments later, hair a sweet, tousled mess on his head. You smiled sweetly but neither of you spoke - there wasn’t much need to.

The two of you seemed to move around each other as if you had been married for years as you got ready for the barbeque, passing each other what you needed wordlessly. Chalk it up to years of hunting together.

“Todays gonna be entertaining for me.” You stated, a smirk on your face. He tilted his head in confusion as if he were a dog and you smiled, eyes drifting to his shoulders for a moment. “C’mon Sam, it’s a town of 47 year old women who hate their husbands and you’re a - very awkward - 6 '4 man. A handsome one at that.” He blushed and turned away, continuing to get ready.

His hands fiddled with the jacket in front of him. “Yeah, so?” You smiled at him, opening the front door as you spoke again.

“So, it’s gonna be fun watching you squirm.” Your smile turned to a grin and Sam shook his head, following you out the door.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You were right, as expected. Although most were fine, one specific group of women made an exaggerated effort to fan themselves, whispering to each other about Sam. They almost immediately ushered you over. You sent a look to your best friend and headed toward them.

Immediately, they began to gossip, asking you about how you and Sam met and you could barely get a word in edgeways. There were compliments thrown at you too, but you knew they were just to stop you ‘feeling jealous.’

“How did you get so lucky?” One woman, Helen, asked. Her voice was wrought with envy as she stared over at Sam. Part of you understood why they were staring, Sam looked strangely good in the traditional small town husband attire. His white polo had a few buttons undone and the fabric was tight on his arms (Dean had ordered the wrong size) and his long hair was held back from his head by a pair of sunglasses, a few stray pieces falling over his eyes. The only part you weren’t a fan of was the khaki shorts…but it seemed to be the dress code in the town so you brushed it off - you and Dean would probably make fun of him for it later. He felt his gaze on you and turned to meet your eyes, smiling softly and winking. The women around you giggled and you rolled your eyes, to which he laughed.

It turned out that talking to the four women was the best thing for the case, they absolutely adored gossip. “Couples have been going missing, it always starts with the husbands.” Margaret whispered excitedly, “It happened to the couple who were here before you, sweet things.” she continued, sipping on a glass of wine.

You tilted your head, something Sam recognised from a distance, you’d had an idea. “Do they leave anything behind? People can’t just disappear?” You asked, pulling your hand through your hair.

Helen shook her head. “The damn council barely clean out the houses.” You nodded. Bingo. If the house hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned, chances are there’d be evidence. Helen continued to ramble and you were listening intently, until a hand gently slid onto your waist.

You let out a gasp but the strong smell of cedarwood and amber calmed you down. You knew exactly who it was. His grip pulls tighter around you and you lean into him, head resting on his chest. You felt your face flush - something you were praying he didn’t notice.

“How did you two meet?” One woman asked and you looked at each other, making sure without ever even speaking that you had the story right.

Sam leaned his head on yours and sweetly said, “why don’t you take this one, honey.” his eyes sparkled with mischief, he was trying to throw you off and the hand that was massaging your side was proof of that.

You met his eyes with the same excitement, if he wanted to play, you were really going to go for it. “We both worked as government agents, met on the field. Hence all the scars.” The women nodded in realisation, looking at some of the injuries you hadn’t quite managed to hide. “He wasn’t the biggest fan of mine at first but I grew on him, isn’t that right darling?”

Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving yours as he replied, “and now I don’t want to be without her ever again.” He found that sentence to be more true than he thought.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sam sent an exasperated look your way as he raked a hand through his hair (and sadly took the glasses off his head). “How were the boys?” you asked with a smile and he turned to make sure no one was watching before dropping the facade.

“I’m actually shocked how much I don’t know about football.” He replied and you both laughed, him leaning into you as he smiled. He looked outside at the group of gossipping women before adding on, “they seemed…friendly.”

You laughed, “to you, sure, but I think it’s because they want you in their bed.” The sentence was blunt and Sam’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing a strong red. You, however, continued as if you had never said anything, “I think it could be witches? We’d have to search for hex bags though.” He nodded, not meeting your eyes (he was slightly flustered).

The two of you eventually said your goodbyes and made your way down the street, Sam looked annoyed with himself. “What’s up?”

He sighed, “this one guy, Glenn, roped me into holding a housewarming party…” You stared at him incredulously, did he not try to say no? Sam recognised the look in your eyes and defended himself, “the man was incredibly persuasive!” You shook your head but knew there was no way out of it. You weren’t the best at party planning.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The long stretch of grocery store met you as you and Sam stood in the doorway. You didn’t often do this as hunters so it was a slightly daunting task. You looked at each other with tired eyes and went your separate ways, deciding to cover ground as if it were a hunt…just for nachos.

You rounded a corner only to see Helen stood there. Not wanting to be stuck in conversation again, you instantly turned on your heel, hiding behind a row of sauces. Though, something caught your eye. In Helen’s basket, clearly hidden just not very well, was a large amount of herbs and salt. What got you interested was the extreme amount of basil and sage.

Witches. Had to be.

Sam approached you, smiling gently. Something about the situation made him look so… domestic. You tried to motion to him what you were thinking but he seemed so fixated on you, his reaching out for yours. “Can you do your job?” you spoke, the words sounding harsher than you had intended. He instantly pulled back, face twisting with annoyance.

“What?”

“Take the hint, Sam. Behind me.”

You continued to whisper back and forth in annoyance, alerting Helen who watched in confusion. You quickly turned to look at her and sighed as she approached, hiding the herbs with the rest of her groceries. “Lovers quarrel?” she joked and the two of you laughed in the same way Bobby would when Dean told another of his bad jokes.

Sam made excuses as you looked at her, trying to see if you could spot any witch runes on her. It seemed as though she was trying to do the same to you. “Well isn’t that tattoo…neat!” She said, trying to hide the venom in her voice as she pointed out the anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone. Great.

You looked at Sam in annoyance and turned back to Helen. “Thanks! I saw it in a magazine!” You tried to explain away but you knew you’d been caught, she had spotted you and you her. Though she was very keen to stay in conversation, Sam made a quick excuse and you both left as soon as you could.

“Told you it was witches.”

Sam didn’t reply. The car journey back was completely silent, an unspoken annoyance building in the both of you. Neither of you said a word until the front door closed. “Nice job letting her see the tattoo.” Sam said annoyedly, turning to look at you.

You sighed and turned away, packing away the groceries. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time actually hunting we’d be done by now! This isn’t exactly a hard case, we don't need more bodies to our name.” The reply was sharp and annoyed.

He suddenly grabbed your wrist so you’d look at him. “I’m doing my job just fine.” His eyes were locked with yours. You stepped closer.

“No, you’re not. You’re distracted.” Sam scoffed, his minty breath fanning against your cheek from how close you were. His hand was still firmly on your wrist.

An annoyed smile spread across his face and a muscle in his neck tensed. “Oh yeah? And why would I be distracted?” You stared directly at him, from his long hair that fell over his unreadable gaze to the smoothness of his bronzed skin.

You found yourself stepping closer again. “You tell me.”

There was a crushing silence, the only sound being your sharp breaths. Suddenly, Sam’s grip on your hand moved to your waist and he pulled you into him, his lips colliding with yours. You leaned into him, hands grabbing his hair harshly. He kissed you as if he were hungry, as if he had been waiting for years - maybe he had. He lifted you easily and sat you on the kitchen counter, leaning back from the kiss for a split second. His chest rose quickly in hot breaths as he kissed you again. You bit his bottom lip - letting blood drip as his hands gripped your skin.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The party was loud and irritating, there wasn’t a moment where you had time for yourself, not one point where you weren’t ’y/n Heathcliff’. You and Sam had barely talked after the evening before - you didn’t know what to say.

You knew Helen would be at the party, not only would it be good to keep up appearances but she could get her next victim from it. Sam sent you a look and you nodded once, heading toward the spare bedroom in search of weapons, just in case.

A small, easily hidden knife was being placed into your waistband when Sam opened the door, closing it harshly behind him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “had to get away from Miriam.”

You laughed gently and went back to preparing, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Helen’s here.”

“I know.”

Silence again. You sighed, “and you just left her out there? Alone?” His brows furrowed and he offered a witty remark, starting another hushed argument between the two of you.

On the other side of the door, Miriam and Margaret pressed their ears to the wood, giggling like school children at how the argument sounded to them. Through the muffled walls, all they could hear was gasps and sharp noises - of course they assumed what they wanted.

Sam’s hands pushed through his hair as he sighed, uncertain of what to do, when suddenly the door started opening. He rushed forward and pushed against it, rushing out a quick, “one moment!” All he heard in reply was laughs.

“What do we do?” He asked nervously and you stood still, nervous, until a thought popped into your head. You held your hands out - asking for permission and, once he nodded, you placed your hands gently in his soft hair, ruffling it. It annoyed you how he still managed to look good.

Then, once he had done the same for you, you looked him up and down, deciding his outfit was far too…tidy. First it was one button undone, then another (you unbuttoned a third for personal reasons). A blush rose on the tips of his ears.

He went to open the door when you realised something was still missing and, in a quick moment of panic, you rushed forward and grabbed his face, kissing him harshly on the lips (you were purposely trying to smudge your lipstick onto him). Sam made a noise in shock but found himself leaning into it, eyes lingering closed for a moment longer after you had pulled away.

Shit. He thought. He definitely liked you.

Eventually, the door was opened and Sam met the two women with an awkward smile. “Oh!’ Margaret began, giggling, “I was going to offer a drink, but I see you’re occupied…” The woman looked at one another, laughed again and walked away, leaving Sam blushing with embarrassment. The door was closed once more and when you were both sure they had walked away, laughter spilt into the room.

He shook his head and smiled, stepping closer to you. “Close one.” You smiled gently, staring into his eyes (the light was hitting them perfectly). There was silence again - neither of you knew what to do.

”Are we ever going to talk about last night?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. His features turned more serious as he sat down on the bed.

He stared at you, lipstick still in a smudge on his face. “I’m not sure what to say about it.” You neared him, hands trailing over his shoulders. Then, slowly, you leaned into him, lifting his chin with your finger as you felt his soft lips against yours. There was something impossibly gentle about it and you weren’t sure anyone had kissed you that softly before.

”Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”

He smiled. You kissed the corner of his grin and headed back downstairs, attempting to fix your hair as you went. You were met with stares as you entered the kitchen - Miriam had most definitely told everyone… at least it sold the cover.

Time passed with an almost excruciating level of slowness and Sam not making a re-entrance back downstairs wasn’t helping either (you had no one to distract you). Eventually, the party cleared out yet Sam was nowhere to be seen - now you began to panic.

You said goodbye to the final few neighbours and headed back upstairs, calling Sam’s name. The lack of response worried you. The first door by the stairs - the one that unfortunately led to your weapons room - was ajar, scratches around the lock. You pulled the dagger from your waistband and slowly opened the door, sighing as you saw the bloodstain on the floor. You had a feeling you knew who had taken him and where he had gone.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You had managed to track him to Helen’s house, hiding around the back to get a good view through the sliding glass doors. Sat, tied to a chair in the middle of the main room, was Sam. His face was bruised and bloody and his expression looked annoyed, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Helen, Miriam and Margaret circled around him, playing with his hair and gathering items they needed for the spell.

”Poor Sam,” Helen began - you assumed she was the leader, “you’d think you’d be able to fight back against three 57 year olds.” Miriam headed into the kitchen as Margaret laughed, they almost reminded you of the witches from Macbeth.

”You’d also think, considering she’s a hunter, that your ‘wife’ would be better at hiding.” Suddenly, a surprisingly strong pair of hands grabbed you, pushing you against the wall.

You struggled against the grip but it was no use, your hands being painfully tied behind your back. Miriam ushered you into the living room, retiring you to a chair beside Sam. You met his eyes with an apologetic gaze and he returned it.

It was your turn to feel the bunt of the witches’ fun now, knives sliced at your skin and hair was cut from your head, you knew they’d done it somewhere visible on purpose. They grabbed at your face, nails digging into flesh and smiling as Sam protested.

Eventually, the three left the room and you and Sam began planning. You shuffled your chair toward him, trying to see if he could reach the dagger you always hid in your shoe. His hand brushed over your shin but he couldn’t reach any further.

With one final attempt, Sam tried to lean on the chair to reach, which ended with him toppling both chairs. He landed on top of you, his chest flush against yours. “Sorry.” He spoke, words hoarse from lack of breath.

Luckily for you, the fall had broken the ropes around your ankles and - though it hurt like hell - you manoeuvred your leg just enough to read the blade. Sam's hair tickled against your face and his lips tickled your neck - but that was something you’d have to think about later.

“Nice try you two.” Helen spoke as she waltzed back in. You hid the blade in your sleeve as your chair was fixed once more and while the three were busy working, you managed to slice through the ropes. you waited patiently, watching with a newfound confidence. Luckily for you, Maragaret was the type of witch to intimidate - her favourite tactic being getting as close as she could.

You took the opportunity and thrust the blade forward, stabbing through her throat. She screamed out and you stood up making your way over to the other two to fight. You took a fair few punches, but it was nothing new and soon enough the two others were on the floor too, holding onto the last of their life.

The large salt circle was immediately broken and Sam was freed, you apolising every time you accidentally touched any of his injuries. “That was badass.” Sam complimented and you laughed, leaning your hair back tiredly.

You turned away, starting to destroy the spell further as you spoke, “Ready to finally stop being husband and wife?” You asked and a small smirk rose on his face, hands snaking back over your waist again.

With sudden passion, he spun you back around, his eyes glinting. “Not really.”

With that, Sam lifted you off the ground, hands securely gripping your thighs as he kissed your neck. You had your back pushed against the wall as he moved to kiss your lips, your hands pulling at the back of his hair. He sighed and went to kiss you again when the front door swung open, revealing a disgusted (but slightly relieved) Bobby and a grinning Dean.

”We can explain?” Sam offered, gently lowering you back to the ground. You couldn’t look at one another.

Dean shook his head, smiling like a madman. “I don’t know Sammy, seems pretty obvious to me.” Then, with the same giddy happiness he turned to Bobby, who had since fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.

Typical. You and Sam shared an annoyed look as The other two hunters headed back out the door. ‘“C’mon you lovebirds,” Bobby began, “There’s a vamp nest in Chicago.”

#fic #fanfic #one shot #writing #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester #fluff #Injury #witches #supernatural #supernatural fic #Sam Winchester the sass queen #sam winchester x fem!reader

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d-hasselhoff · 1 year

Text

GIVEN UP

Dean Winchester

Sam says something he didn’t mean to in the midst of an argument.

Sam and Dean were arguing again.

You weren’t sure the exact argument, but it had something to do with Dean not understanding what Sam felt when he lost Jessica. After hearing that, you slinked off to the Deancave, leaving the brothers to settle it out on their own.

Minutes later Dean came down, grunting something about his keys, and left. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. He would be out, driving around, and then he’d come back. You decided maybe you should talk to Sam, see what his side of the story was before Dean made him out to be the villain.

“Sam? Everything alright?” You knocked on the doorframe of his open bedroom. He looked up at you from his desk.

“Y/n? Oh, yeah. Just a little fight.” Sam gave you a small, unsure smile.

“Wanna talk about it?” You asked lightly, sitting down on his bed.

He nodded, turning his chair toward you.

“What happened?”

“We uh, we were talking the mark, and about sacrifices, and he said that I’d never had to give up anything major and then I kind of yelled at him about Jessica and how he’d never really had to sacrifice anything. He wanted to be in this life, he wanted you and he wanted a hunting life. He got everything he wanted. I never wanted anything like this. I wanted to practice law and live in my suburban house with Jess and our kids. And now I can’t. But you two, you’ve got it all! You’ve got all you wanted.”

You licked your lips, listening intently. “D’ya know I was pregnant?”

Sam raised an eyebrow at you. “You were? When?”

“Years ago. ‘Bout when Jess died and your dad went missing. I was five months along when Dean realized your dad was gone too long and decided he wanted to go lookin’ for him.

So, we did. And we went to collect you, and Dean saw how happy you and Jess looked, and that night he told me he was really ready to settle down once he found your dad. He was ready to settle down and live a normal life.” You sniffled slightly, the memory hitting you like a semi. Sam looked up, and Dean stood in the doorway, unnoticed by you. “And then Jess died. Jess died, and you were so determined to find her killer that Dean realized he couldn’t leave you to hunt alone. And so I had a decision to make. I could either have this baby and try to raise it on my own, which I knew wouldn’t work, or I could have it and give it up.”

“So you gave it up?”

“I did. I gave it up. Dean gave it up. Dean gave up the life he was promised, and the life he was so ready to live so that you could find and kill the thing that killed your ticket out of the hunting life.

So, yes, he’s sacrificed a lot. An entire life. And I know it feels as though it’ll never be the same as losing Jess, and I’m sure it’s not exactly the same, but it’s just as hard. It’s just as demanding. And honestly, I’m kind of glad we didn’t give up hunting. I would love to be able to settle down, but I think we’d get so bored. The most fun we’d get is fuckin’ church bingo.” Sam snorted at that, imagining Dean at a church bingo.

Dean laughed, catching your attention. “Hey, baby,” you greeted, patting the spot next to you on the bed.

He wandered over and sat behind you, wrapping his arms around your torso. “Hey, sweetheart. Do we need to attend a church bingo now?”

You laughed, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. “I think we might. You gonna join us, Sammy?”

“Only if I get to keep our winnings,”

#supernatural #jensen ackles #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

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corinthianism · 6 months

Text

last kiss | sam winchester (5)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst warning(s): implied/referenced non-con

masterlist | previous chapter | ao3

CHAPTER FIVE: TEN SECONDS

You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t even know how much time has passed since Lucifer took you away. He stashed you in some house. It looked like a normal suburban home, except it seemed he used his amped-up archangel abilities to essentially create a whole pocket dimension for you. On a surface level, every day felt like a normal day. Night and day passed just the same as it would in the real world. You had neighbors, and they were both familiar and unfamiliar. “Dean” lived right across the street whilst “Bobby” and “Cas” lived right next to you. The other houses were occupied by random people you didn’t know. It was like a bad djinn hallucination.

The routine was always the same: wake up, eat, try to kill time, sleep, repeat. In the beginning, you thought you were just having a bad dream; that Dean, Bobby, and Cas were really there with you. However, when you tried talking to them, they were way too out of character. Dean acted like a stereotypical macho man with absolutely no personality whatsoever, Bobby’s parental instincts towards you were taken to new heights in an almost cartoony way, and Cas was a helpless imbecile.

Then there was Sam. Sam was the only one who acted like himself. You’d wake up next to him, eat meals with him. You did everything you normally did with him, except in this weird world, you weren’t hunters. It felt eerily similar to the dreams you’ve had before.

He kissed you, touched you in ways the real him would never have the courage to do, but you refused to sleep with him. No matter how many times he tried to initiate it. He wasn’t real, and this was all wrong.

He would leave at exactly 9am everyday. Those first few days, you tried finding a way to escape. You tried talking to your “friends”. You tried hurting them. You tried pleading with Sam. When nothing else worked, you tried killing him.

And he was dead. For a while. The very next day, you woke up next to him again, as if nothing happened. After that, you resigned to just doing whatever you could to not be present in the moment. You played the role of housewife, because there was nothing else you could do.

Until now.

You woke up again, expecting to see the same cream-colored walls and smell the same ever-present smell of lavender. Instead, you were in an unfamiliar room.

The first thing that hit you was that it was rancid compared to what you were used to, as if somebody tried to hide the smell of a dead body with some berry-scented perfume. You turned around, and there was Sam. He donned a fully white suit, his hair uncharacteristically slicked back.

“You’ve been very impressive,” he winked at you, taking his hands out of his pockets to give you a mocking slow clap. This was Lucifer and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t find a trace of Sam. “For someone so in love with him, you did a bang-up job of… well, not banging him.”

You didn’t answer.

“Aww, come on now. Giving me the silent treatment?” he stepped forward. “What if I told you… he could still hear you if you talked to him? Not that he would be able to answer. Not unless I wanted him to, of course.”

That got your attention, and it gave you a boost of courage that had otherwise been taken from you. You ran towards him, grabbing him by the collar.

“Sam? Sam! Listen to me, if you’re in there, you’ve gotta fight it! Take back control, Sam!” you pleaded desperately, your last attempt in getting your best friend back.

His expression changed, and suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders. His body language and the cadence of his voice changed as well, and for a moment, all hope was not lost. It was as if the clouds parted to reveal the sun. This was your Sam.

“You’ve got to get out of here,” he pushed you away, looking around frantically for an exit for you to use. “You have to stay away from me, you have to—”

You took several steps back, turning around to grab the doorknob, only to find that the door was just part of the wallpaper, “What—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” it echoed from behind you. You turned around slowly, and “Sam” was standing perfectly still and upright once again. “Naughty Sam. Naughty you.”

He approached you, stopping right in front of you before he looked you up and down like a predator assessing its prey.

“So, it’s just you and me now, princess,” he tilted your chin upward to have you look at him. “You know, I can see inside Sammy’s head, and my, my, my… the thoughts he has about you aren’t as innocent as you think they are.”

You scowled at him, even if it was unnatural for you to do such a thing to Sam. This wasn’t Sam anymore, you had to remember that.

“Remember… Jessica? Oh, I bet that one broke your heart. The love of your life going off to some fancy Ivy League and getting a pretty blonde… well, if it’s any consolation, he was always thinking of you. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason he could get off whenever he was inside her.”

He laughed, as if he said the funniest thing in the world. He traced hearts and random shapes on your cheek, his laughter dying down into a contented sigh.

“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together,” he finally said, his hand sliding down to your neck, and then to the collar of your button-down plaid shirt. He unbuttoned it once, “Sammy’s screaming at me right now. It’s very annoying.”

He unbuttoned another one, “I don’t see why he’s not enjoying this more, honestly. After all, this is what he wanted. If anything, I’m doing him a favor.”

He leaned closer, and you desperately tried to slow down your breathing. Your heart was pounding, so much so that you were almost sure that Lucifer could hear it. You always wanted Sam, but not like this. Lucifer knew that, and so he would do exactly what he wanted.

Lucifer, in a mission to ruin you forever, took more and more of your dignity with each button he removed. Finally, when your skin was on display for only him to see, a wide grin appeared on his face. Sam’s face.

“You’re never going to be the same after this,” he promised, and all you could do was hide somewhere in your mind where even the devil couldn’t find you.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Lucifer took you to a cemetery, whispering in your ear about how once Michael showed up, you were gonna see the greatest battle in history. Of course, Lucifer would win.

Ever since that night, you felt like a prisoner of your mind. It was both your safe place and your punishment. You tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t Sam; that it was Lucifer who stole your dignity. Sam would never… Sam could never hurt you the way Lucifer had.

Even in the presence of two archangels, you stayed silent, and accepted your fate. Half of the world was gonna burn to the ground when this was all over, and you just hoped that your death would be quick. You felt sick when Michael looked at you, something akin to both disgust and pity written all over his face.

Then, the familiar rev of Baby’s engine reached your ears. Your head shot up, seeing the Dean riding the Impala into the graveyard, right in front of Michael and Lucifer.

Dean got out of the car, his eyes immediately flickering over to you in worry, but he pressed forward and marched right up to the two archangels.

“Hey, we need to talk.”

Lucifer scoffed, “Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”

“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Sam.”

“You’re no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here.”

Dean turned to Michael, his voice filled with sincerity and regret, “Adam, if you’re in there somewhere, I’m so sorry.”

“Adam isn’t home right now.”

Castiel and Bobby arrived, with Cas throwing a can of holy fire at Michael to keep him at bay. This irked Lucifer, who then snapped his fingers. Cas exploded, leaving behind bits and pieces of blood and flesh.

“You know… I tried to be nice, for Sammy’s sake. But you are… such a pain in my ass,” he threw Dean against the windshield of the Impala.. Bobby shot at Lucifer’s back, prompting Lucifer to twist his hand. Bobby’s neck snapped.

Your eyes widened, two of the people you cared about was just murdered by Lucifer, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna do something about it. You ran towards Lucifer, trying to get him away from Dean. With a flick of his hand, you were thrown against a nearby tree. The impact was enough to knock you out for a few seconds, your vision falling in and out of darkness.

You laid motionless on top of the pile of dry, dead leaves, unable to do anything but watch. Lucifer got closer to Dean, grabbing him by the legs and then punching him.

“No!” was what you wanted to say, but nothing came out. You could feel a branch poking at the skin of your back.

Lucifer kept punching Dean, over and over until Dean’s face was barely recognizable.

Then something happened.

His fist was still raised in the air, and you could see the internal war raging inside him. His hands shook, and his grip on the collar of Dean’s shirt loosened. There was a glint in his eyes, one that told you whether or not the body you were talking to was Lucifer or Sam. You held your breath, eyes lasered in his face, not sure if the person in front of you was your Sam.

For him, it felt like time had stopped. There was no apocalypse. No Lucifer. No Michael, no nothing.

All he could see was the toy soldier stuck in the Impala’s ashtray. That was enough for him. The sight of the toy, the memories etched into the car, the image of his bloodied brother in front of him who, even then, was still unwilling to fight.

The memories didn’t hit him like an outside force, they came from him, blossomed from a place he forgot about. Locked in a treasure chest he kept in the deepest corners of his soul, where not even the devil could touch it. Clear as day, he relived every single one, and with each memory, the clearing grew wider. He could crawl out and push Lucifer back.

He saw it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly. He remembered sticking that toy in the ash tray, and the stern, drunken scolding that he got from his dad soon after. He remembered him and Dean etching their initials on the car door. He remembered the fireworks. The countless nights of booze and fastfood takeout. Lying down on the hood of the car to watch the stars whenever they were in between cases. All the times Dean saved his ass, yelled at him, laughed with him, and everything in between.

His eyes met yours, and the sight of you broke his heart all over again.

Sam didn’t have much time. This much he knew. He could feel the mind-melting, soul-breaking pain of Lucifer scratching at his walls— no, he was tearing them down, howling to be in control once more. Sam could hear every single scream and whisper that Lucifer was filling his ears with and it was too much. In his gut swelled the familiar hatred that the fallen archangel harbored for humanity, and it wasn’t the boiling hot rage that most people would expect. It was the kind of hatred that flowed through each and every single blood vessel in your body; the kind that only a being as old as the devil could feel. It was quiet, deadly. It was the kind of hatred that consumed you, built up from eons of being locked in a cage like an animal. Lucifer blurred the lines between his anger and Sam’s, and that scared the younger Winchester.

But standing there with you, seeing you as if it was the first time, Sam thought he could bear it, if only a little while longer. Standing there with you made it clear that that hatred couldn’t possibly be his own, because how could he ever hate you? No, Sam Winchester loved you, and it came to him as easy as breathing.

More memories broke through, and this time, they’re of you. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. The sound of your laughter in the early morning. The time you helped him make a girl jealous in 8th grade when it was really just an excuse to be close to you. The time you kissed him when you were as high as a kite after getting your wisdom teeth removed.

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of your lips on his and pretend that everything was alright. Lucifer would not take this away from him.

Finally, Sam lowered his fist and gasped as his senses were flooded with everything. You could almost sob in relief, if it wasn’t for the fact that it wouldn’t be long until Michael and Lucifer came back with a vengeance, but nothing could ever be worse than what would come next. Sam took several steps back, rummaging through his pocket to retrieve the Four Horsemen’s rings. Your muscles ached as you tried to get back up, but nothing could trump the pain in your chest as you watched Sam slowly back away from Dean.

It’s cruel, probably the cruelest thing that the universe threw at you. You had seconds of clarity, and they were the seconds counting down to the love of your life’s suicide. Sam looked at Dean, and then at you, and you almost wished he didn’t. For a moment, you thought that maybe this was all some one sick, twisted nightmare and that you were gonna wake up any minute now. You blinked, but Dean was still beaten and bloody and Sam still felt so far away. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Even now, he still tried to keep on a brave face for you. It almost made you smile. A tiny part of you hoped that maybe the apocalypse wouldn’t be so bad as long as you went down with him. Almost as if you wanted Lucifer to win just so you could keep Sam in the only way you could. The thought passed as quickly as it came, all while feeling like a knife had been twisted in your stomach.

“It’s gonna be okay, I got him,” he breathed heavily, stepping away from you and Dean even further. “We’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He sounded as if he didn’t really believe himself either.

He pulled out the Horsemen’s rings from his pocket and threw them on the ground, chanting the incantation to open the cage. The ground shook, and before you knew it, a large pit had opened up in the soil. From where you stood, all you could see was a black void, but you knew what it was. It was hell. It was the deepest, darkest, most depraved part of hell and Sam was going in with a one-way ticket.

“Sammy,” your voice broke. He turns his head to look at you again. You didn’t know what to say. Did you want to stop him? Jump into the pit with him? Profess your undying love for him?

None of those options seemed right. The clock was ticking.

Ten.

You could see how scared he was, his hands trembled with the weight of what he was about to do. You wanted to go up to him, hold him, tell him that he was going to be okay, but you couldn’t. It was dangerous, yes, but you knew that if you took even just one step closer to him, you wouldn’t let him go.

Nine.

“I’m sorry,” he called you. “For everything.”

He took another step back. He knew what Lucifer did to you, and it crushed him. It took everything in him to not go to you and protect you the way he wanted to. To beg for your forgiveness.

Eight.

“Sam, please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. You looked over at Dean, trying to get him to back you up. World be damned, you won’t fucking lose Sam. Dean could only stare back at you, his head hung low in defeat. He was letting go, and he was telling you to do the same.

Seven.

The air seemed to grow heavier, and Sam yelled at you and Dean to stay back. Even though it broke your heart to do so, you did as he asked, scurrying over to Dean’s side to help him get away from Sam. Dean grunted in pain, clutching your hand that was on his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm.

Six.

Sam called your name, and nothing was more important. You stood up, heart clenched in anticipation.

“I need,” he took a deep breath. “I need you to know.”

Five.

“Need to know what, Sam?” a cry escaped your lungs.

“That it’s always been you,” he smiled sadly, voice barely heard over the chaos. “It was always gonna be you.”

It was odd, the way the heat rushed to your cheeks. The way your own heart beat twice, thrice as fast than it already was. You could almost let the world around you fade away. There was only Sam.

He spoke again, a little louder, a little braver, “You know that, right?”

Four.

“I know,” you tried to stifle your sobs. His admission hung in the air, filling your lungs with everything that was him. He loved you, and you always knew.

“That’s my girl,” he kept smiling, determined to make sure that that was the last thing you saw. He didn’t want you to remember his death. He just wanted you to remember him.

Sam knew why you didn’t say it, and it was for the same reason he did. It was better this way. Saying those three words would set things in stone, and especially now that he was seconds away from his death, he didn’t see the point of hurting you that much more.

Three.

Michael returned, a wave of unseen energy washing over you and Dean at his arrival. His anger distorted Adam’s young face. Panic overtook the anger, however, when he noticed just how close Sam was from jumping off the edge.

Two.

Sam closed his eyes, letting gravity pull him in. Michael screamed, rushing over to stop Sam from falling in. For a split-second, you feared the worst would come to pass. That Michael would save Sam and just resume his world-ending battle with Lucifer.

Sam’s eyes shot open when Michael’s hands tried to get him away from the pit but immediately, his gaze flickered over to you.

You, with the pain of a thousand lifetimes weighing on you, and the cuts and bruises and tears to show for it.

You, with the laughter that pulled him out of every nightmare on the days when his own mind wouldn’t let him rest.

You, with the proud, contagious smile after every hilariously bad joke, all because you wanted to see him smile, too.

His heart was yours, perhaps it had been since the beginning, but Sam knew one thing: this world was better with you in it.

With all the strength he could muster, he grabbed Michael by the lapel of Adam’s jacket, and pulled him into the pit.

Sam was gone.

One.

When the pit closed up and left nothing but the Four Horsemen’s rings behind, you forced yourself to move away from Dean and approach the rings, kneeling by the spot where the pit just was. The world was safe again, though you didn’t know how long that would last. The grass was soft under the palm of your hand, as if there wasn’t a massive doorway to hell there just moments prior. You let yourself cry; to truly pour your heart out for someone who wouldn’t be able to hear it.

You would never have another morning coffee run with him or another all-nighter spent on researching monster lore. No more pop culture debates or stitching up each other’s wounds. You would never make him smile, ruffle his hair, or hold his hand again, nor would you feel him keeping an eye on you while you slept.

Since before you hunted your first monster, Sam had been by your side. Now that you didn’t have him, it felt as though you weren’t a whole person. Like your very soul had been torn apart and its pieces were lost in the wind, never to be complete again.

Castiel returned, seemingly resurrected by none other than God Himself, and immediately helped Dean and Bobby get back up on their feet, all shiny and new. When he walked over to you, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek and heal all your wounds, you moved away. Your face was littered with small cuts from being thrown to the side by Lucifer, and you were sure there would be a massive bruise on your back from the impact.

You still refused to be healed.

“Let it be,” you told Cas quietly. He frowned, hesitant to heed your request, but he obliged anyway.

Seconds. It only took seconds for you to lose everything. You didn’t know what you were feeling; if only there was a word, any word, for you to explain to Dean, Cas, maybe Bobby, the way you felt everything and nothing at the same time.

Truth be told, you were lucky to have only lost one person, but the lingering question in your mind was why did it have to be the person who meant everything to you? There was no answer, and the silence was the worst of it. Sam wasn’t there to tell you that he’s okay, and he won’t be able to ever again. Your injuries ached. You almost welcomed the discomfort, desperate for anything to keep you grounded.

A large hand rested on your shoulder. It was Dean. You shared a look with him, a silent exchange of “I’m sorry” and “I’m here” to each other. In your grief, it was easy to forget that Dean had lost his baby brother, just as you had lost the love of your life. Moments later, Bobby stood beside the two of you. Three people brought together in grief that they weren’t sure they could ever recover from. You knew then and there, that you’d spend the rest of your life picking up the tiny little pieces of your heart, trying to be okay. Because that’s what Sam would’ve wanted.

You would never know so many things. The pain he’d go through. The fact that as he fell into the darkness, white-hot flames burning his flesh, he thought of you. Poked and prodded, stabbed and skinned, broken and put back together just to be broken again. What Sam knew, even if you didn’t, was that he’d make this same choice again and again because he knew you would be okay.

Sam Winchester died, and it came as easy to him as loving you.

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester #jared padalecki #reader insert

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 2 months

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Comfort in Making a Home

Summary - Part 57 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess, Sam x Eileen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Wanted to give you guys a bit of a fun one this week. I also tried to make it a bit longer than the past few. 1. In honour of Jensen’s birthday! And 2. Because I’m not sure if I’ll get a chance to write and publish a chapter next week as I’m going to my first-ever SPN convention, SUPER EXCITED, I’m finally gonna meet J2!! But as such, I’m gonna be a little busy, so sorry in advance if I don’t get a chance to upload next week.

Feeling reassured that the threat of other hunters coming after your little girl or the presence of other monsters in town was all an overreaction, you and Dean spend the rest of the week cleaning, furnishing and decorating your new home. You let Destiny choose the colour for her room, a pastel violet. Her room is the quickest and easiest as you just set it up similar to how it was at the bunker. While the process seems like Deja Vu as you move the same furniture you only just bought and set up, it feels more natural and permanent here.

The rest of the house proves to be a more extensive project. Though Dean grumbles about taking measurements, the weight of furniture, and the hassle of shopping, his complaints are laced with a certain satisfaction. You can tell Dean enjoys the change of pace. It’s still hard, tiring work, but it’s free of blood and death and he gets to spend time with you in a place where he knows you’re safe. No demons, no angels, just the ordinary challenges of making a house a home.

Your shared bedroom comes together quite quickly with Dean insisting that you keep your bed, as the memory foam remembers you both. You chuckle at his childish antics but agree nonetheless. Neither of you owns a lot of clothes either, so it’s a simple task for you to arrange them in the walk-in wardrobe while he paints Destiny’s room. Multitasking and working together proves a breeze after years of doing so on hunts.

Destiny plays in her new room, arranging her toys while you and Dean focus on the rest of the house. As you work together to arrange the living room, Dean teases you about the throw pillows and blankets, but there is a lightness in his eyes and tone that speaks volumes. The simple moments of shared laughter and playful banter feel like a luxury compared to the life you’re leaving behind.

“I still think this is too many pillows, but if it makes you happy…”

You roll your eyes, playfully swatting his arm with a pillow. “It's called decorating, Dean. You'll get used to it.”

“I’m sure they’re good for something…” Dean muses as he picks one up and swats your bum with it. You retaliate until you’re both lying on the couch laughing and out of breath.

Dean grins, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close, his eyes scan the room with a sense of accomplishment. The house quickly transforms into a home, a safe haven where the threat of other hunters and monsters feels like a distant memory.

As the day turns into night, the glow of a lamp illuminates the living room. Feeling the exhaustion of the day's work, you sigh.

He kisses your head and then says, “Not bad, huh? Maybe suburban life ain't so bad after all.”

You lean into him, the sense of security in his embrace making the sacrifices of the hunting life seem worth it. “Definitely not bad. Not that it’s suburban up here in the mountains…”

Dean rolls his eyes at you and pinches your side softly. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah. It's nice to have a place where we can just be... us.”

And in the quiet of your new home, surrounded by the echoes of laughter and the promise of a peaceful future, you know that this change of pace is exactly what your family needs. And as you and Dean sit on the couch in the living room, exhaustion replaced by contentment, you know you've found something rare and precious—a place where you can truly be safe and happy.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Early morning sunlight spills through the curtains of your new bedroom, casting a warm glow over your bed and the hardwood floors. Not used to having windows, the feeling is a little surreal to begin with, almost like waking up in a motel room. Dean yawns as he stretches and pulls you closer to his bare chest.

He kisses your forehead, “Morning, Beautiful.”

You smile as you snuggle into his embrace. “Morning, Handsome. It still doesn’t feel real, you know? Our own place…”

“We haven’t Christened the house yet, you know…And there’s no annoying little brother here to interrupt us!”

“Ah, true…But there is a little girl that could wake up any minute. And she had a bit of a rough night…not sure if you noticed me get up about five times. You, on the other hand, seemed to have the best sleep of your life. So much for man-of-the-house protecting us…I had to go protect her from the tree branches and animals in the woods.”

Dean slips his fingers under the hem of your sleep shirt, dragging them lightly along your stomach to trace the swell of your breasts. He trails kisses over your face towards your neck. “You’re my sexy, strong, badass protector. Let me show my appreciation.”

You playfully groan, “Dean…”

He takes your hand in one of his and guides it over his stiffening dick. “You feel that? I’m getting blue balls with all this waiting and stopping…They’re going to explode and kill me. You’re literally going to be the death of me.”

You let out a light chuckle as you shake your head. “You’re so melodramatic! You and I both know that’s a myth. I promise it won’t kill you. Plus, I heard you jerking it in the shower the other day.”

“Which is no substitute for the real thing, I’ll have you know.”

“I know. I also know I’m hungry and need coffee and we have yet to stock the kitchen here or buy a coffee machine…So, come on, Honey. Stow your blue balls and get up.”

He groans loudly as he flops back down on the bed in defeat. “This is like the chastity vow all over again! All I want to do is make love to my wife, is that really too much to ask?”

You lean over and kiss his lips. “What we need is a proper date night. Leave it with me. We got plenty of friends, I’m sure I can find a babysitter for one night…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The sun is casting a beautiful pink and orange hue over the forest when your family finally returns from another long day shopping, dining out and picking up a few more belongings from the Bunker. Dean, clad in a worn-out plaid shirt and his trademark smirk, takes charge of arranging pots and pans, his culinary expertise evident despite his continued grumbling.

“I can't believe I spent another full day shopping and now am voluntarily ending it in the kitchen. This better be worth it.”

You shake your head and chuckle. Destiny, a bundle of energy despite the long day, eagerly pulls colourful bowls and plates out of the bags, her eyes wide with excitement. The kitchen buzzes with laughter as you and Dean share a glance, appreciating the normalcy of domestic tasks. With her arms overflowing, Destiny waddles into the kitchen as if trying to help. Dean notices her looking lost and rather than chastising her for being in the way or taking the bowls off her, he picks her up so she can reach the overhead cupboards and place the colourful wares inside.

With all the new purchases in their new home and the kitchen looking more homely, Dean sets about preparing everything he needs to cook up a delicious feast for your first official meal in your new home. He ties on an apron before producing a matching one in a much smaller size. Destiny beams.

Wearing her miniature apron, she stands on a step stool, helping with stirring and mixing the gravy. Dean, despite his initial protests, enjoys the rhythm of chopping vegetables and sizzling pans, surrounded by the warmth of his family. You go about setting the new wooden table on the patio with the colourful plates, cups and cutlery Destiny helped to choose. It looks bright and welcoming, the opposite of everything you’re used to. The one piece of normality is the shotgun Dean leaned up against the corner of the patio, a single line of defence to make him feel more secure in the open space.

Just as Dean’s preparing to bring the food out to you the doorbell rings. Destiny jumps off the stool and pulls off the apron to show off the fancy new dress Dean bought her. It’s long sleeve with flannel designs and a frilly skirt that matches. He thought it was so cute that he couldn’t not buy it. Truly, it surprised you after his earlier whines about the lack of privacy and sex, he really sees Destiny as his little partner in crime during the day and revels in the way she looks up to him (both literally and figuratively).

“Can I get it!” Destiny asks brightly.

Despite being 99% certain of who’s at the door, you insist on going with her just in case. So, while Dean finishes delivering the food to the table you go downstairs with Destiny to get the door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory, @mrlonelycat, @roseblue373, @staley83

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff

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imagines-all-day-everyday · 1 year

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A Hunting Trip (Part 4)

pairing: dean winchester x reader x damon salvatore

synopsis: a crash course in self defence - *yn* finally tells dean and sam what's been going on in mystic falls. dean takes it upon himself to make sure she can keep herself safe.

warnings: fluff, angst, swearing

notes: i love this chappy so much, am so happy to be back writing x

Series Masterlist

"Just this one here."

Dean followed *yn*'s index finger to guide the impala into the driveway.

*yn* still couldn't believe that John had given Dean his car.

"Oh great, here come the million and one questions." Dean grumbled.

The rumbling engine must have alerted Sam, because he was already hurrying down the porch steps towards them. The two hopped out of the impala just as Sam reached the car.

"Where the hell have you been?" He threw his hands up in the air before perching them on his hips. His gaze firm as he glanced between the two, much like a stern mother.

"Why don't you just calm down and hold your questions till we get inside detective." Dean responded. Definitely not the right thing to say.

"Calm down?" Sam looked at him in disbelief. "I thought something had happened, you weren't answering your cell and *yn* was being all cryptic on the phone."

"Well we're here now and in one piece." Dean gestured between him and *yn*. "Although slightly traumatised."

"I'm going to explain everything, come on." *yn* patted Sam's shoulder in apology before moving past the boys to scale the porch staircase.

Sam shot Dean one last unimpressed look which Dean pretended to not see as they followed after *yn*.

"So this is your place huh?" Dean asked her as she slid her key into the front door.

"Yep, home sweet home."

The house was unexpectedly sparse. A single couch and small television occupied the living room. There was no art or pictures on the walls. Dean could see a film of dust coating the small coffee table that stood at the entrance.

It was like no one lived here.

She poked her head out of the door, scanning the quiet suburban street once more. Dean turned to look at her at the sound of the soft click of the lock sliding into place.

"I really doubt that lock's going to do much good if one of your friends wants to get in."

"Vamps can't enter a home unless they're invited in by the owner." She shot back as she placed her keys on the entry table.

"Smart ass." She grumbled under her breath as she shrugged off her jacket.

"I don't need super vamp hearing to hear you, you know." Dean remarked as his eyes slid over every inch of the house.

"I'm sorry, did you just say vampires?"

"Oh you have so much to catch up on Sammy." Dean patted his shoulder as the brothers followed *yn* down the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Take a seat, you guys want something to drink?" *yn* gestured to the dining table.

"We're fine thanks."

Sam's brows had started to do that twitchy thing they did when he was anxious.

Dean turned to look at his brother incredulously. "Speak for yourself." He turned to *yn*. "I'll take anything that even slightly resembles alcohol."

She nodded knowingly, "that I can definitely do."

Dean's eyes fell on the open fridge door as *yn* disappeared behind it.

For the first time since they'd stepped foot in this place, there was evidence that someone lived here. Photos stuck under tacky mystic fall magnets were strewn haphazardly over the door's surface. He could make out photos of her and Elena in cheer uniforms and a few others with people that he had recognised around town. One of her and Damon laughing was front and centre.

None of her dad, or him and Sam, or anyone from her childhood for that matter.

"Will this do?"

Dean quickly averted his gaze as *yn* popped her head around, two bottles of beer on show.

"That'll do perfectly." A grin appeared on her face as she shut the door with her foot and came over to sit with the pair at the table.

Dean thanked her with a nod as she slid the bottle over to him. Sam looked like he was about to combust as he watched the pair take a sip from their drinks.

The silence stretched on. For the first time a look of uneasiness crossed *yn*'s features as she placed the bottle down onto the oak.

"I don't really know where to start."

The admission seemed to soften Sam's urgency. As she sat in front of them and fiddled with her fingers, it was like they were suddenly back in a hotel room, waiting for their dads to finish a hunt. Like they were trying to pretend that they were normal, even for a few hours.

"The beginning seems like a good place." His words were gentle as he studied the girl in front of him.

She bit her lip and glanced at the clock on the wall opposite her.

"Take your time, we want to know everything." Dean was the one who spoke this time, and even he had taken himself by surprise at how calm he sounded.

What was more surprising was that *yn* didn't shoot back with a sarcastic remark or roll her eyes. Instead, a grateful look flashed across her features as she nodded.

"Ok."

So, the beginning was where she started. She told them everything, from the day that her dad died to when they'd shown up. About how it was a regular job and he'd been taken by a nasty spirit and the next thing she knew, she was being moved from home to home.

She told them about vampires and werewolves and witches and dopplegangers. About humanity switches and sunlight and stakes. She told them about the Founder's Council, about the Salvatores. She told them about Katherine and the tomb vampires. She told them about Klaus, about his obsession with making an army of hybrids. She told them about the original family and the coffins, about Stefan's fixation on getting revenge on Klaus.

She did decide to leave some details out, mainly about Damon's less... morally ok decisions and the people that her friends had killed along the way. But she did tell them about her friends, about her new family, about Alaric and Sheriff Forbes, about the bonds that they had all created during this time. About the fact that she was going to a real high school now, with real teachers and real prospects of college.

The whole time their eyes did not leave her. They nodded, smiled, grimaced (a lot) and asked questions occasionally. But there was not one moment where they were not one hundred percent focussed on her. And as she talked, *yn* realised just how desperate she was to tell someone outside her mystic falls circle about what was happening. Someone from her past. Someone who could understand and sympathise with just how messed up her life had been.

As she talked, it was like she could visualise the bonds of their relationship slowly begin to repair after so many years of disuse.

"And, I think that pretty much brings it up to today."

She could feel the brothers' eyes on her as she brought the bottle to her lips and finished the remnants of the liquor in one foul gulp.

"I uh-" She watched as Sam cleared his throat, his eyes darting to look at Dean before turning to her.

"I think I'll take that beer now."

A soft smile presented itself on her lips. The chair scraped against the floor. The sound bounced off the bare walls.

"It's a lot to process."

Dean watched as *yn* disappeared behind the fridge door once more.

"If it hadn't happened to me I wouldn't have believed it." Dean's eyes never left the photos plastered in front of him as he spoke.

"So what, he literally just locked eyes with you and like... mind controlled you or some crap?"

"It's called compulsion, and yes that's what they do." *yn* corrected Sam as she made her way back to the table.

"Right sorry, he compelled you to just do whatever he wanted?"

"Pretty much yeah."

Sam resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Dean shrugged. "And if you ingest that herb you were taking about- varvin?" He continued.

"Vervain. And here." Sam raised a brow but still muttered a thank you as he took the beer and a bottle of water from her outstretched palm.

Upon closer inspection he noted the strange herb swirling around in the bottle, making the water slightly discoloured.

"It doesn't taste bad." *yn* commented when she noticed the sceptical look on his features.

"Bottoms up Sammy." Dean clapped him on the shoulder as Sam unscrewed the cap and brought the bottle to his lips.

"And this really works?" He asked once he'd taken a large gulp of the liquid.

"You don't have to ingest it. You can wear it in something like a necklace and that will protect you too." She raised her wrist to reveal a bracelet dangling from her wrist.

"Me personally, I like to do both because if they yank it off you, you're screwed. Best to cover all your bases. You can incorporate into all sorts of weapons too, the stuff's a nightmare for them."

Her eyes darted between the brothers and raised a brow when she noted the looks on their features.

"What?"

"Nothing it's just uh-" Sam cleared his throat and glanced at Dean out of his peripheral. "I'm a bit confused as to why you're telling us all of this stuff. Given a lot of your friends are..."

"Vampires? You can say it." *yn* mused as she twisted the cap off her second beer. "And yes, they are my friends. But so are you. And unfortunately most vampires aren't as nice. I want you guys to be protected."

"You might want to consider getting better friends if that's what you consider friendly." Dean muttered under his breath.

"Given I'm in a generous mood, I'll choose to ignore that." Her answer made the side of Dean's lips twitch up into a smirk.

"Lucky me."

The pair locked eyes as *yn* brought the glass to her lips. He was taunting her, dangling his words in front of her like bait on a hook. Begging her to take a bite.

Her instincts were screaming at her, the words literally falling off the edge of her tongue. But the knowledge that she had to convince them to leave town was what prevented them from falling off the precipice.

"So you guys going to tell me why John's left you to fend for yourselves or what?"

"Oh come on." She continued when she saw them exchange looks. "Given I've just trauma dumped on you guys I think it's only fair you both tell me what you've been up to."

"We'd been hunting together for a few years and then he went on a trip." Dean spoke after a few moments. "And he didn't come back."

Trust Dean to include all the important details.

"That was when Dean came to get me from Stanford and-"

"Woah wait Stanford, as in Stanford University?" *yn* cut him off, her eyes growing wide.

"Uh yeah, I was studying law there."

"Sam that's amazing oh my god." *yn* breathed out, a grin spreading across her lips as she studied him.

"Thanks, I guess." Sam ducked his head down as a smile spread across his lips, unable to hide himself as her excited energy seeped into him.

"Don't be so fucking modest you dork." She laughed, "we always knew you were the nerd of the group."

She didn't miss the way Dean's small smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he studied his brother.

"John must have been really proud."

She instantly knew that she had hit a nerve when Sam's smile faltered, anger flashing across his features briefly before he regained his composure.

"Something like that."

Tension pulsated through the room as Dean pursed his lips at Sam's words. *yn* could almost see the wall go up between them.

Jesus what had she missed while she was gone?

"Anyway." Sam cleared his throat. "We went looking for him, to the town we knew he was working a job."

"No dad but there was a job. Spirit, nasty bitch too." Dean remarked, shaking his head and taking a deep drink of his beer at the memory.

"Dean dropped me back home and when I got there-" Sam looked down, a lump in his throat as he felt a rush of heat, like those flames were still licking at him, burning him from the inside.

"Jess, Sam's girlfriend, she was uh- well- she died just like our mum did."

A pregnant pause filled the room. *yn* blinked rapidly as she tried to process the information.

"Like, the exact way-"

The boys nodded solemnly.

"Fuck." She exhaled as she studied Sam. She fought the urge to reach over and take his hand.

"Jesus Sam, I'm so sorry."

"Thanks *yn*." A sad smile flitted across his features. He was unable to hide the anguish in his eyes. She knew he blamed himself for his girlfriends death. He was a Winchester, they were masters of self flagellation.

"Ever since then we've been trying to find dad."

"So what, he just took off without a word and you haven't heard from him since?" *yn* found it hard to believe that he would leave his sons without an explanation. Then again, it was John Winchester, he wasn't ever exactly going to win father of the year award.

"I've spoken to him, he gave me coordinates of another job." Dean answered her.

"That was it? No explanation of where he is?"

"That was it." No matter how good his poker face was, even Dean couldn't conceal the resentment on his face from her.

"We think he's got a lead on the thing that killed mum and that he doesn't want us involved." Sam explained.

"Right." *yn* nodded. "All the more reason for you to keep trying to find him then."

Dean's lips twitched, "trying to shake us already huh?"

"You are a pain in the ass..." She teased, "But it's not like that. I'd love for you to stay.. but you can't. It's not safe."

The mood visibly shifted. Dean's jaw tightened at her words, the veins in his hand protruding as he gripped the beer bottle. She could feel him shutting down already. So instead, she leant forward in her chair and locked eyes with Sam, praying that she could at least get through to him.

"Look, it won't take Klaus long to find out you're hunters. He probably already knows. And you two could be the best hunters in the entire fucking world, you still wouldn't have a chance against an original vampire."

She shifted her imploring gaze to Dean, swallowing the lump in her throat when he refused to meet her gaze.

"I've already lost my dad, I'm not losing you two." She twisted her fingers around each other as she tried to keep her voice steady and calm.

"You need to go and find your dad."

"Well that's ironic." Dean chuckled humourlessly.

*yn* frowned at his words. "What are you talking about?"

"He led us right to you."

"He's been leaving us clues - coordinates." Sam clarified when he saw her confusion.

"In his journal and stuff. There was a whole section on Mystic Falls, about all the mysterious animal attacks and missing persons."

"You think he knew?" Her question illicited a shrug.

"He knew something supernatural was going on. Hard to say if he suspected vampires."

She nodded, her mind was now racing even faster than it already had been. Not only did she have to worry about Klaus, but she also had to worry about word getting out in the hunter community about what was going on here.

"You have his journal?"

Sam nodded. "I'll go get it."

All she could do now was see what sort of information John had collected, what was available for hunters to find that would lead them to the town.

Dean wordlessly fished out his keys and handed them to Sam. His green eyes locked with hers as he did so, and *yn* swore he could read her mind in that moment.

She pushed the chair back, letting it scrape loudly on the wood. She could feel Dean's eyes still on her as she disappeared from view to pull open the storage cupboard under the staircase that led up to the second floor.

The shoe box was in plain sight. She reached up on her tippy toes and plucked it from the top shelf. Stepping out from underneath the stairs allowed her to examine it in the natural light.

It was tattered from age, the nike logo faded and discoloured. A layer of dust encased it. It was heavier than she remembered.

She placed it down gently onto the dining room table. Dean looked at her quizzically as she pulled off the lid. Particles of dust launched at her face, almost as if they were angry for being disturbed after so long.

"I saw you looking at my photos on the fridge." She spoke as she pushed the box towards Dean.

"You think I don't have photos of my dad, of you."

She watched as Dean brought the box closer to himself and peered inside.

"I didn't want to have to explain who any of you were to people who asked."

It also pained her to look at them.

He pulled out a stack of old photographs as she sat down once more. Her eyes never left his face, trying to gage his reaction as he sifted through the grainy faces.

A genuine smile spread across his lips as he chuckled. His mood did a 180. "Holy hell, I forgot how dorky you and Sammy were."

He flipped the photo around and sure enough there was a photo of a young Sam Winchester and *yn* Kitson.*yn* felt her cheeks flush as she snatched the photo from his hand for a closer examination.

Sure enough, there stood her and Sam, cheesy grins on their faces, dressed in matching Star Wars costumes. Sam as Luke Skywalker and *yn* as Han Solo. It was clear that the costumes had been made with whatever was available, her dad's belt nearly dwarfed her entire midsection and the pants were rolled up to her ankles so she wouldn't trip.

Despite her horror, she couldn't help but let out a giggle. "Christ, letting me go out like that has got to be considered some form of child abuse."

Dean chuckled as she placed the photo back down onto the table. "I remember you literally begging me to borrow my vest for that stupid costume."

"You should have said no, you would have been doing me a favour."

"And miss out on the opportunity to reminisce on your dorkiness years later? Hell no."

She shook her head, unable to wipe the smile off her face as Dean continued to sift through the photos.

"Oh my god."

"What?!" She was up and out of her chair, rounding the table to get a look at the photo that had made Dean's eyes bulge.

"Oh my god." She echoed as she slid into the chair beside him and peered over his shoulder.

"That is criminal." She gasped.

"What's criminal?"

The two twisted around in their seats to see Sam standing in the doorway. They glanced at each other before bursting into laughter.

"What? Show me!" Sam demanded as he stormed forward.

"Hey!" Dean protested as Sam reached over and plucked the photo from his hand. "I wasn't finishing admiring that."

*yn* covered her mouth, trying to suppress her laughter as she watched Sam study the picture.

"Oh my god." His face grimaced in disgust. "Burn this please."

"No, you look cute!" She protested.

"Cute is not the word I would use." Sam grumbled as he came to sit opposite them.

"Yeah sorry *yn*, gotta agree with Sammy on this one." Dean grinned as he reached over and grabbed it back from Sam.

"Dorky, loser, nerd, comes to mind though."

*yn* couldn't stifle her laughter any further as she looked at the photo once more.

It was a probably 10 year old Sam Winchester, his fringe even thicker and curlier then it was now, his two front teeth missing as he grinned wildly. He was holding some sort of science project in his small hands.

"Not much has changed in the dorky department."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. "What like you wouldn't have some embarrassing pictures in here?"

"Me? Pfft please, I never went through an awkward phase."

This time it was *yn*'s turn to roll her eyes.

"Yeah right."

"I was too busy with all the cheerleaders to go through one."

Spurred on by his words, she leant forward and flicked through the photos. A very young Dean Winchester, hair plastered up into an obnoxious quiff and gleaming with hair gel, wearing a leather jacket far too big for him, was beaming back at her. Her lips curled into a devilish grin as she plucked the photo from obscurity.

"You may not have gone through a dorky phase Winchester, but you definitely went through one just as embarrassing." She held it up triumphantly, dodging Dean's grasp as she held it out for Sam to take.

Sam let out a bark of triumphant laughter as he studied the photo, clutching his chest as he threw his head back in a dramatic fashion.

"Oh c'mon, I'm sure it's not even bad."

"Hm, I'd call using what looks like a whole tub of hair gel to style your hair pretty bad."

*yn* snickered at Sam's words.

"Give me that." Dean grumbled, snatching the photo from Sam's hand.

"Dude this is not even that bad." He protested, although *yn* didn't miss the way the apples of his cheeks turned a slight pink.

"Wasn't this his James Dean phase?" *yn* queried. Sam let out a howl of laughter.

"Oh my god how could I forget about the James Dean phase." Sam could barely get his words out as he laughed. "He'd pretend that lollypop sticks were cigarettes."

Dean's cheeks turned pinker. She almost felt sorry for him.

Almost being the key word.

"And remember that little walk he'd do."

"Hey, the man's a legend alright." Dean protested as they both burst into a fit of giggles.

"He's the definition of cool. Style. Class."

*yn*'s brows raised at Dean's words, biting her lip to stop the giggles escaping as he glared at her.

"I still think it's embarrassing." Sam remarked.

The brothers continued to bicker as *yn* resumed flicking through the photos. Her fingers stilled when her dad's smiling face suddenly stared back at her.

She was wrapped in his burly arms, her pudgy fingers clasping his neck. Pink bow in her wispy hair. A toothless smile and bright eyes aimed at him. She would have been no more than 2.

Grief hit her like an unexpected tidal wave.

She blinked as she felt hot tears prick at the corners of her eyes. The pad of her pointer finger brushed over his sun worn features. The werewolf inflicted scar on his left temple.

Dean's eyes involuntarily darted to her. He went to turn his attention back to Sam when he noted the tightness of her features. The veins in her hand were revealed from her grip on the photo. He recognised the emotion on her face instantly. One that he was all too familiar with.

"So where's your aunt?"

Her eyes met his, widened from the surprise of being snapped out of their focus. They softened almost instantly, and for a moment there was a look of gratefulness on her face. Like she understood what he had done. In a blink her face morphed into one of unreadability. It happened so quickly Dean almost doubted he'd even seen it at all.

"My aunt?"

Dean frowned at her question. "The one you said you lived with? Is she at work or something?"

"Oh. Right."

Her eyes darted between the two brothers. She may be good at hiding her emotions, but Dean was better at seeing through it.

"*yn*."

"She uh, she's... well, she's dead."

"Dead?" Dean balked. "What do you mean dead?"

"Like... the tomb vampires got out and she died of an 'animal attack' sort of dead." Guilt was written all over her features as she spoke.

Two bewildered expressions stared back at her.

"It's ok.. really! It wasn't that sad, it was a while ago and to be honest she was kind of the worst so-"

"I'm not worried about you being sad, I'm worried about who the hell has been looking after you all this time."

Annoyance flashed across her features, "I don't need anyone to look after me."

"Who lives here?"

"Me."

"I mean, who else lives here?"

"No one."

"No one? So you live here all by yourself?"

"Yes, that's what I meant when I said I live here."

Dean and Sam exchanged bewildered glances.

"I'm at Elena's most of the time, I pretty much live with her."

Now it all made sense. The dust. The lack of furniture. Why it felt like no one really lived here. Because no one did.

"So you don't have a guardian? Any sort of parental figure?"

*yn* bristled at his questions. She was starting to become quite irritated.

"Ric is my guardian technically, Elena and Jeremy's too."

"Ric? As in the former vampire hunter we saw drinking with your vampire boyfriend last night? Yeah, sounds like a great role model."

"Dean." Sam warned.

"What? I'm merely stating the facts."

"I thought we were passed the whole judging, making assumptions, just being an asshole in general thing."

She held his gaze. Her eyes glowering with annoyance. She radiated stubbornness. It made Dean falter.

"I'm only asking because I care about you."

Her resolve wavered, a crack in her mask appeared that allowed Dean a glimpse. He saw a flicker of sadness.

"You have a funny way of showing it."

The shrill voice of Taylor Swift rung out through the room, preventing Dean from a response. She really had to change that ringtone.

*yn* avoided Dean's intense gaze as she fished her phone out of her pocket and glanced down at the caller ID.

"Excuse me." Was all she muttered before pushing out of her chair.

She didn't answer until she was upstairs with the door shut. "What do you want?"

"Well hello to you too." She could hear Damon's amused smirk through the phone.

"This better be good, you're interrupting precious bonding time." She grumbled as she flopped onto her bed.

"Things going that well with dumb and dumber huh?"

She huffed at his question. "All I'm going to say is I hope it went better for you with Ric's doctor friend than it is for me right now."

"Yeah funny you mention that, I'm just leaving his flat now."

She frowned, "Why?"

"To check if there was a bunny on the stove." As he spoke she picked up her childhood toy and sat it onto her chest. Buffy the plush pink horse stared back at her unblinkingly.

"That bad huh?"

"She vervained me when I accused her of killing her ex boyfriend, then the little psycho blood jacked me."

"She what?" *yn* sat upright. Buffy tumbled down the side of the bed. "Are you ok?"

"Fine, just a little miffed. Although, somewhat pleased I got to say 'I told you so' to Ric. Just as I predicted. Diagnosed psycho case."

"Great, just what we need."

"Yep, add it to our list of never ending problems." Damon drawled, "I was actually calling to see how it was going on your end with your second favourite set of brothers."

In that moment a memory surfaced. She snatched it before it could disappear once more. As he spoke she swapped the phone to her other ear and hastily leant over to pull open her bedside table draw.

"I think I'm making progress." She rifled through the stacks of paper and trinkets. She froze as her fingers found its target.

"Well that's something."

She pulled it out, hidden deep in the drawers depths. She plucked it out like a prize. A treasure amongst trash.

"Keep me updated, yeah?" She could faintly hear Damon's question on the end of the line.

"Will do." *yn* heard herself mumble as she twisted back onto her back and stared up at the photo.

"I gotta go. Talk to you later." And with that she snapped her phone shut and tossed it onto the bed beside her.

She held the paper up in her hand, stretching it above her head so the ceiling framed it. A photograph. A special one, kept apart from the others in the box in the room below her.

Luke Kitson, *yn* Kitson, Sam, Dean and John Winchester all beam back at her. The only photo of the five of them together. A perfectly dysfunctional family.

She smiled softly, letting the pads of her fingers glide over the young faces. Frozen permanently in time. None of them held a clue as to their fates. Where they would be in 8 years time. She wished she could somehow transport herself into that photograph and stay there forever.

Her anger towards Dean fizzled. Like it always did. She traced his grainy features with her fingernail.

She knew then that she had to do whatever it took to keep them safe. Even if it meant biting her tongue and quelling her anger. If it meant stretching the truth so they felt safe enough to leave her here and go on their way.

She let out a shaky breath as she pressed the photo into her chest, clutching it like she still did with Buffy when she couldn't sleep.

"I promise I'll keep them safe dad."

Sam turned to look at Dean once they heard a door shut above them.

"Oh don't give me that look Sammy."

"What look?"

"The little disappointed puppy look you've managed to master."

"You could have been a bit nicer."

"Oh come on!" Dean threw his hands up in the air. "The girl's living in a house all by herself in a town full of vamps, you expect me to be happy about this crap?"

"No, and I'm not happy about it either, but acting like this isn't exactly going to help things."

Dean muttered under his breath, leaning forward to press his elbows into his thighs so he could run his hands over his stubble.

"What the hell are we supposed to do?"

There was a static pause as Sam studied him before answering. "I think we should do what she says."

"You want us to leave?" Dean blinked dumbfounded.

"Look, if what she says is true, we stand no chance defeating these.. original vampires or whatever they're called. It'd be a suicide mission." Sam answered him, lowering his voice as he spoke.

"If we find dad we can get his help to come back and stop this."

Dean shook his head. "So what, we're supposed to just leave her here? With these-" He cut himself off, his eyes darting to the stairs before looking back at Sam. "These monsters?"

"I don't think we have a choice Dean."

"She could come with us."

"And what? Sit in a hotel room while we go work jobs? C'mon. You know that would never happen. It's pretty clear she wants to stay."

Dean frowned, rubbing his stubble stressfully as he racked his brain for another solution. There was a part of him that wanted to grab her and throw her in the back of the impala and drive away with her. But he knew he could never do that. He could never take away her freedom, her choice. Besides, she'd probably scratch his eyes out if he even tried.

"The longer we stay here the harder it's going to be to find dad."

Dean's eyes narrowed as he looked up at Sam through his long lashes. "Is this about finding dad to help *yn*, or to get to him before he kills whatever killed mum and Jess?"

Sam flinched at Jess' name. His lips thinned into a firm line.

"We have a chance to kill the son of a bitch Dean. I'm not losing that. Not for anyone."

There was his answer. Dean sat up in his chair and leant back, his forehead creased as he studied his brother.

This wasn't the Sammy that he knew. The doe eyed, puppy like Sam Winchester who wanted to help everyone and anyone. No, this was a Sam Winchester who had a hard shell casing beginning to form around him. One that was driven by revenge and bitterness. One that was much too like John and Dean Winchester.

But despite all that, Dean knew his brother was right. They had no choice. If they stayed, they might all end up dead. At least this gave them time to reconvene and plan.

"Fine." Dean relented. "We go find dad, kill the son of a bitch, but then we are getting our asses back here and getting *yn* out."

"Deal." Sam nodded.

"But we ain't leaving until I give her at least some basic training. Who knows when she even last held a damn shotgun."

The staircase creaked before Sam could reply. The two sat up, trying to look as natural as possible as *yn* wondered back into the kitchen.

"Sorry about that, it was Elena." She spoke, waving her phone in the air before sliding it into her pocket. She seemed to return to the room in a much better mood than when she had left it.

"Everything ok?" Sam asked her, a smile on his features.

*yn* glanced at him before looking over at Dean. A strangely friendly smile was also on his lips.

"Yeah, just friend drama." She answered as she slid into her chair.

Each party seemed to be in a much friendlier mood, but the other could not quite work out why.

Her eyes landed on a photo amongst the pile, a genuine grin spread across her lips as she pulled it towards her.

Bobby Singer stared back at her, a rare smile on his face. A five year old *yn* Kitson sat beaming on his lap.

"Do you guys still see Bobby?"

Fondness washed over her at the memory of the grumpy older man. He'd always had a soft spot for her, and her for him.

"Yeah of course." Dean nodded.

"Hey, when this business is done with our dad why don't we swing through here and pick you up and we can all take a road trip to see him?"

*yn* looked up from the photo in surprise. Her eyes flickered to Sam who was nodding encouragingly.

"That sounds like a great idea." He agreed.

She glanced between them, trying to decipher what they were trying to say. "Does this mean you're leaving?"

"Yeah, well we talked about it and we think you're right. It's probably safer for everyone if we go." Sam was the one to answer her.

Her lips parted in surprise. Dean could tell that she had not thought it would be that easy. She turned to look at him and he could tell that she was reading him, trying to find the hidden motive behind their unexpected decision.

He did his best to keep smiling. If she could read him, she did not let on, a smile instead spreading across her lips. One that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"There is just one condition though." Dean finally spoke up.

"What's that?"

"Self defence training." *yn*'s brows shot up to her hairline.

"Self defence training?" She echoed. An amused smirk spread across her lips when he nodded.

"What? Don't think I can handle myself Winchester?"

"Just want to make sure you haven't gotten rusty that's all." He shrugged. There was a glimmer in his eye as they studied each other.

"Well we wouldn't want that, would we?"

A twig snapped underneath Dean's boot. A raven cawed in the distance.

"You sure no one's around?"

The two brothers stepped into the clearing that *yn* had directed them towards.

"Yeah, Ric, Elena and I come here all the time to train." *yn* answered from behind them. A loud thump made them swivel around.

"What the hell is that?"

The two brothers looked down at the duffle bag *yn* dumped down at their feet.

"Things I defend myself with."

They watched as she bent down. The teeth of the zipper parting echoed through the woods, bouncing off the old trees.

"What are we looking at right now?" Dean queried, his brows raised as he watched her pull out a shot gun.

"Well this one is loaded with wooden bullets, excruciating and a pain in the ass to dig out." She chucked it onto the grass.

"This one shoots mini daggers." Another thud.

"This is a vervain grenade."

Thud.

"Oh and this crossbow is pretty handy too."

Thud.

"And I think that's all I've got at the moment, Ric has some more back home."

She glanced up expectantly when she got no response. Their jaws were slack as they stared at the weapons laid out in front of them.

"You made these?" It was Sam who finally broke the silence.

"Yeah, I mean Ric thought of most of 'em but I helped... fine tune the final products I guess you could say." She picked up the shotgun, popping it open with ease and glanced down into the chamber.

Sam raised a brow and looked over at Dean. He didn't need to verbalise his thoughts. It was written all over his face. "What was that about her not being able to hold a shotgun?"

Dean shot him a glare before clearing his throat, "well that's all very impressive but sometimes we don't get the opportunity to grab weapons."

*yn* eyed him sceptically as he took a few steps back to move into the centre of the clearing.

"What about your hand to hand?"

She tried to hide her smirk as she placed the shot gun on the ground. She rose to her feet and dusted her hands off on her jean shorts.

He didn't need to know that Ric had been training her and Elena for months. Or that she never stopped training, even after her dad died.

He shrugged off his leather jacket and dumped it onto the ground, leaving him in a grey t-shirt. It was loose, except for around his biceps that bulged as he tensed. Her eyes darted to his hands, watching them curl into fists. His rings gleamed back at her.

She swallowed and forced herself to move her eyes back to his face. The last thing Dean Winchester needed to see was her checking him out.

She stepped forward so she was only a few metres from him.

"You know vampires have super speed and strength right? I don't think this sort of training is going to be much use."

"Just humour me." He answered her, a small smirk twisting up onto his lips. There was that gleam in his eye again. Challenging her. Provoking her.

"I wanna see what you're made of Kit."

Kit.

It felt like eons since someone had called her that.

"Hurry up Kit!"

"Put your back into it Kit."

"That's my little Kit."

"I love you Kit."

The nickname unlocked so many memories from her past. It didn't even feel like the nickname belonged to her. Like it was someone she'd known in her past life.

It felt so foreign to her ears that her brain took a moment to process it.

"C'mon Kit, what are you waiting for?"

Dean's voice brought her back down to earth. This time, the nickname nestled into her ear and made itself home again. It sparked something in her. A determined look settled onto her features.

Dean's eyes sparked when he saw her face morph. He held back his grin as the pair began to circle each other. They danced around each other, both of them holding their breath to see who would make the first move.

The snap of a twig was all it took. *yn*'s eyes must have shifted for no more than a few seconds. But it was all the time Dean needed to lunge forward and take her by surprise.

She stepped back and moved to curl her knuckles into a fist but he was already on her. Calloused hands gripped her forearms and twisted her around. She grunted as a knee pressed into the backs of her legs causing them to involuntarily buckle.

He used his bodyweight to push her down onto her stomach, twisting her arms and pinning them to her back in one fluid movement. She squirmed under his firm grip but she knew it was pointless. She was trapped, like a fish in a net. A fly in a spiders web.

She let out a grunt of frustration as she tried once more to writhe out of his strong grip. She could almost feel the rumble in his chest as he chuckled. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as a rush of warm air puffed onto the shell of her ear.

"Just as I thought, rusty." His voice was deep and amused. She gritted her teeth as he released her from his grip, chuckling to himself as he watched her get up onto her feet. Her breath was slightly ragged as she locked eyes with him, her jaw clenched.

Her ringtone blared through the woods. She tore her eyes from Dean and hurried to her bag. Damon's name illuminated the Caller ID. Her finger hovered over the accept button. She stole a glance at Dean who was already studying her intently. She flipped her phone shut.

"You don't need to get that?"

"Not important." She answered as she flicked it to silent and shoved it into the depths of her bag.

She rose to her full height and marched back into the centre of the clearing.

"Again."

After an hour, her body was aching and bruised. It was screaming at her to give up. And she might have done, if Dean hadn't just lunged at her for what must have been the 12th time and finally left his stomach exposed.

She stepped forward and punched him square between his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. She jumped on the opportunity instantly, kicking his feet out from underneath him. Before he could even comprehend what was happening, she pushed him to the ground and straddled his torso. A wild grin spread across her lips as she pinned his arms above his head.

Victory was hers. Finally. There was a triumphant look in her eye as his body stilled underneath hers, admitting defeat.

A smirk appeared on his lips as his hands settled on her thighs. His chuckle sounded like gravel. He winced as she intentionally pushed down onto the area of his stomach where a bruise was already starting to form.

"Well played Kit."

The praise affected her more than it should have.

She felt her cheeks flush as the pair locked eyes. The pad of Dean's thumb brushed against her skin. It left goosebumps in its wake.

"I'm spent." Sam groaned from behind them.

She finally broke eye contact, ducking her head down as Dean's hands flew from her thighs.

"Can we have a break now?" She asked as she rolled off him and glanced over at Sam.

"Please." Sam agreed as he collapsed against a tree. He seemed oblivious to the interaction that had just occurred.

"Great." *yn* rose to her feet and began to stretch her aching limbs. She could hear Dean getting onto his feet behind her.

"These weapons really work?" Dean spoke after a few moments of silence stretched through the clearing.

He had her crossbow in his hand. "Yeah, they've been useful before."

"And this one shoots stakes?" He brought it up to rest on his shoulder.

"Yeah, that ones a personal favourite of Ric's." *yn* answered as he watched him settle on a tree as a target. One eye closed as his finger rested on the trigger. Then he pulled.

There was a whoosh as a blurry figure snaked past her. The stake never found its target. It was stopped by a hand. A gaudy ring waved back at her. As did a smirking Damon.

"Uh oh, vampire not staked."

She blinked and he was gone. Firm hands gripped her shoulders before the stake had even hit the ground. A hard body pressed against her.

The band of the gaudy ring that was staring back at her only seconds ago was now pressing into her throat. Her face was guided to the side, exposing her skin. Fangs lightly scraped the side of her neck.

"Pretty girl gets killed instead." He murmured, his lips only millimetres from her skin. His fangs brushed her as he spoke.

Her face flushed and her heart pounded against her ribcage. This was so not the reaction she should be having to this encounter. She was certain Damon could hear the way her pulse was pounding. All she could do was hope that he assumed it was out of fear.

"You guys gotta work on your hunting skills."

*yn* knew how it looked, how Damon intended for it to look in front of Dean and Sam. But what they didn't see was how gently he had shifted her neck. How he had just brushed his thumb along the curve of her skull, almost in a way to communicate that he wasn't going to hurt her.

Dean's face had hardened as he aimed the crossbow at Damon.

"Alright ease up cowboy." Damon raised his hands in mock surrender but didn't make an attempt to move from behind *yn*. His makeshift shield.

"I'm just trying to make this training exercise as realistic as possible."

"Dean it's ok." *yn* reassured him. "This is just Damon's sick idea of a joke." She sneered.

Dean's eyes darted between Damon and *yn* for a few moments before he reluctantly lowered the crossbow. She could see Damon's smirk widen.

"You think my humour is sick? Why thank you."

She rolled her eyes and shoved him off her.

"You're an idiot."

He grinned at her as his fangs slid back into his gums and the veins under his eyes shrunk.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him before he could open his mouth again to spew out another taunt.

"You weren't answering your cell."

It was an accusation, not an explanation.

"I turned it off." His eyes narrowed at her answer.

"I need to talk to you." He glanced over at Dean and Sam, "in private." She rolled her eyes once more but nodded.

"And remember boys, special vamp hearing if you wanted to have a little gossip session about me while I'm gone." He turned and shot them an obnoxious wink.

She didn't wait for a response from Sam or Dean before she grabbed Damon's arm and dragged him off into the woods.

"Oh come on *yn*, why so grumpy." He teased. She gritted her teeth and finally came to a stop once they were out of ear shot of the boys.

"You rocking up with your fangs out isn't exactly going to help me convince them that they should leave me here, is it?"

This time it was Damon's turn to roll his eyes. "Alright I'm sorry, I was just having a little fun."

She sighed and folded her arms in front of her chest. "How's it going with them anyway?"

"Good actually, they've agreed to leave town."

"Really? Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Huh." Damon nodded, his lips pursed, "probably good timing actually."

"And why's that?"

"Well... I sort of had a run in with Klaus."

"What? What happened?" All annoyance directed towards Damon flew out the window.

"He got the coffins back."

"Shit." She cursed under her breath. "So we're all screwed then?"

"Well... I did manage to hide one before he got there."

She blinked in disbelief. "The locked one?"

"Yep." He popped the 'p' as he nodded. "Let's just say he wasn't too pleased with me."

"So we still have leverage." She breathed out, "that's good. Although he's probably going to be twice as murderous now."

"Oh, I think he's going to have bigger things to worry about for a while."

Her eyes narrowed at his words, "and why's that?"

A smirk twisted up onto Damon's lips as he leant into his jacket pocket. She took a step back, her eyes widening at the object.

A white ash dagger stared back at her.

"Is that...?"

"You bet it is."

"Damon what the hell did you do?"

He shrugged. "I thought it was time for a brotherly reunion."

"So you're telling me we've now got two original vampires running around Mystic Falls?"

"Elijah hates Klaus. Wants him dead."

"We thought that the last time and look what happened."

Damon huffed. "This is different, Klaus broke his promise and stuffed him into a wooden box. The dudes pissed. And if Elijah's pissed, it means we have a chance to get him to work with us to finally put a stop to Klaus's little tirade."

*yn* sighed and folded her arms in front of her chest. "You better be right about this."

"When am I ever wrong."

She shook her head, a ghost of a smile spreading across her lips as she looked away. Her eyes involuntarily dragged back into the direction of Sam and Dean.

"You want to get back to your training Kit?"

The nickname falling from his lips made her jerk her head back at him.

"That is what they call you, isn't it?"

"Were you spying on me?" She hissed.

"I had to find you from the sound of your voices. I didn't have a choice but to listen in." He shrugged innocently. If looks could kill, he'd be very much dead right now.

"I did arrive in time to see you tackle hero hair 2.0 to the ground."

"Are you done?"

"It was kind of hot."

She felt her cheeks begin to burn.

"Alright now I'm done." He grinned. "I'll leave you to it, gotta go tell the baby brother my genius plan."

She watched him take a few steps before he suddenly turned back around to face her. All traces of humour had left his face. She jutted her chin up to look at him as he marched towards her.

"Don't put your phone on silent again." A breath caught in her throat as he raised a hand to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. His gaze had softened as he studied every inch of her face.

"I hate worrying that something's happened to you."

In a blink he was gone.

"Fuck." She murmured under her breath.

*yn* spent the time it took reaching the clearing to collect herself and push thoughts of Damon to the back of her mind. By the time she reached the boys, she was the perfect picture of calm and normalcy.

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah." She nodded, "friend drama."

Dean nodded. She knew that he didn't believe her.

"So-" She cleared her throat. "Do you guys want to keep training?"

"It's getting kind of late actually, we should probably get going soon." Sam answered her.

She felt her heart plummet to the ground. She knew that they had to go, but she wasn't ready for it. They'd just got here. They were just starting to reconnect, to mend those bonds that had eroded over the years.

Even though she was practically limping from their training session, it had been some of the most fun she'd had in a long time. Giggling as Sam and Dean bickered, or trying to contain her laughter when she'd accidentally kneed Sam in the groin. It felt so natural. So familial. Almost like her dad was about to pop out and call them in for dinner like he used to all those years ago.

Surely it wouldn't hurt if they stayed just a little while longer. Like Damon had said, Klaus was distracted.

"Why don't you guys stay the night?" She suggested, glancing between them hopefully.

"We could grab some dinner and then you can head out in the morning."

The boys exchanged dubious glances.

"C'mon you can sleep at mine, I'm sure you must be sick of motel beds."

That seemed to be what tipped them over the edge.

"Alright that sounds good, thank you." Dean spoke, shooting her a tight lipped smile.

A grin spread across her lips, "great! Let's get something from the grill. I think it's burger deal night." She spoke enthusiastically as she picked up her duffel bag.

"Ooh! I call shotgun!" And with that she hurried off towards the impala, leaving the boys trailing after her.

"We're not playing any Taylor Swift." Dean called out to her as she neared the car.

She rolled her eyes, "I know you don't actually hate her."

"Oh really? And how do you know that?"

The car lock clicked.

"Because no one actually hates Taylor Swift. It's impossible."

Dean muttered something under his breath as the three of them piled into the impala. Sam's knees were practically up to his face as he forced himself into the back. Dean slid the key into the ignition.

"Do you still have that ACDC tape your dad used to play all the time?"

Dean's fingers froze in place. He turned to look at her.

"You still listen to ACDC?"

"Yeah. Of course I do. Why do you think I chose the name Young?"

Dean thought he might pass out as realisation hit him. "Like as in Angus Young...."

"Yeah..." She looked at him puzzled. "Do you guys still not use those sort of fake names?" She glanced over her shoulder at Sam.

"Yeah we do it's just..." Dean trailed off, bringing her attention back to him.

"Anyway-" He cleared his throat, "I have it, it's already in."

His answer made her smile grow wider. "Well what are you waiting for Winchester?"

He shook his head in disbelief before twisting the key in the ignition, letting the impala rumble to life. He pressed a button and the beginning of Back in Black started to blare through the speakers.

Sam internally groaned.

"Now that's what I'm talking about." She leant back in her seat and kicked her feet up onto the dash as Dean pulled out onto the road.

Sam's brow raised when Dean didn't say a word. If that had been him, he'd have been told to get out and walk.

Dean grinned and began to tap his fingers along the leather of the wheel, his head bobbing in time.

"Back in black, I hit the sack - come on Winchester!" She exclaimed when she didn't hear Dean's voice, hitting his chest playfully.

Sam blinked in disbelief as Dean began to join in, the pair of them shouting at the top of their lungs. Dean cranked the music louder.

"Oh my god." Sam mumbled to himself.

"There's two of them."

I really love this part - don't worry though there's gonna be soooo much drama coming up hehehe <333 As always, feedback would be super super appreciated and you can give it back HERE!

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