Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The alcohol burned as it slid down your throat. Although, it was only a mere pinch compared to the pain you had once felt. The pain you still feel.

It kept you awake at night. The flashbacks, the nightmares, your own little dose of post traumatic stress disorder. The visions never went away. The blood splattered windows and walls, the endless rows of animalistic teeth, the life fading out of every creature’s eyes you had killed. The smells were worse. The rotting flesh, the dust of old bones, the distinct smell of death that never quite left you alone. You had tasted more of your own tears than you could ever count, and you knew the unique taste of your own blood. That wasn’t normal for most. But for you, it was everything you had ever known.

“Another one, ma’am?” The bartender’s voice shook your from your thoughts. He was cute. His smile was bright, and he had a handsome face. It was a shame that you had forgotten what it was like to feel. To harbor a small crush, to love.

“No, thank you. Not tonight.”

“Just let me know if I can get you anything.”

“Will do.” You sighed, resting your elbow on the bar and pinching the bridge of your nose with your fingers. Before more thoughts could rush back into your mind, you finished your drink and let yourself slide off the barstool.

***

The door to your motel room swung open slowly with a slight creak in it’s hinges. You flicked on the light to reveal faded wallpaper and worn features, only proving that the room had seen better days.

You locked the door, tossed your purse on the bed, and slipped into the tiny bathroom. Your clothes seemed to vanish from your body. You saw your reflection in the mirror. Scars littered your skin. Most were from hunts. Some were from the endless years of torture. There were rows of scratches, bite marks, gashes, and a handprint burned into your left shoulder.

The lukewarm water felt so gentle against your skin. So soft compared to the pain you always felt.

***

“Four women were found dead in Ann Arbor, Michigan last night.” Sam broke the silence that had fallen between him and his brother yet again.

“And?” Dean responded, his eyes locked on the road.

“And, they were all pregnant. Not far along, either. They were all less than month in.”

“That is weird.”

“Oh, and they were all young. Like, really young. 25, 23, 18, and 16.”

Dean whistled. "That’s...That’s just sad.”  He paused. “So, what is this, a backwards dragon? Instead of virgins it’s feeding on young, pregnant girls?”

“I don’t know. But we’re gonna find out.”

Dean glared at Sam. “You’re so dramatic.”

***

You had hit a roadblock. The article in the paper about four young, pregnant girls being found dead all with similar wounds called your attention days ago. You had finally made it to Ann Arbor, and you had found nothing.

It was times like this when you wished you weren’t alone. But then you remembered why it was for the best.

“Y/N! Duck!” Your sister screamed, you spun around and obeyed her command. A gunshot rang out, and the ghost that had been looming over you faded into thin air. You kept your face in the grass and held your breath. “I-Is it gone?” You finally stammered.

“Yeah, but not for long. Come on-” She held out her hand to help you up. Her hand was warm, and soft. Something so simple made you feel at home.

You both ran back over to the freshly uncovered grave of Edna Miller, the vengeful spirit who had been busy at work taking out her old enemies for about a month. You fell to your knees and began digging through your duffle, until you finally found the small cardboard box of matches.

Edna had a grasp on your sister. She was choking the life out of her, literally. “Hold on, Quinn!” You lit the matches and dropped them onto the pile of bones as fast as you could. The screams made your ears ring as she went up in flames and dropped Quinn to the ground. You rushed over to your sister, helping her up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” She breathed. “Let’s get outta here.”

Your sister always had your back, and you always had hers. You felt the hot tears bubbling in your eyes. God, you missed her.

As always, you wiped the tears away and went back to work. You dressed up in your FBI pantsuit and headed out to town.

The locals were nice, and you interviewed the family and friends of each of the young women who had died. Seeing these families so broken up over loss made you flinch. It hurt to see innocent people in pain like this.

By the time all of your investigating was over, you had found out some more interesting facts that linked the girls together. Now it was time to grab a burger, your laptop, and try and figure out what killed these girls and why.

However, just as you had settled down to do some research, the roar of a car’s engine disturbed your thought process. You weren’t the only one staying at this motel anymore.

***

Dean swung open the motel door, bags of food in his hands. “Hey,” he called.

“Hey.” Sam replied, staring at his laptop screen. “Find anything?”

“Yep, two things actually.” He sat the bags down on the table. “All of the girls were sexually assaulted.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yep. I also found out that somebody else is on our case.”

“What do you mean?”

“Each family I spoke to said they had a fed drop by this morning. A woman. Agent Smith.”

“Hm. Interesting. You think she’s a hunter?”

Dean unwrapped his burger and took a bite. “Apparently, since she was asking all of the same questions I was.”

“Well, if we find out who she is, maybe we can team up with her?” Sam inquired.

“I say we just gank this thing and move on.”

“I’m just sayin a little help can’t hurt, Dean.”

“We don’t even know what this thing is yet, Sam. Just relax.”

“Actually, I’ve got a hunch.”

Dean perked up. “I’m listening.”

“So,” Sam sighed. “Lore says it’s a Manananggal. It’s basically the Philippine's equivalent of the American vampire, except a Manananggal has wings and feeds on fetuses.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“It gets worse. This thing can literally separate itself into two halves. The top half flies around at night when it’s hunting, and it’s lower body just, waits for it to come back. But that’s how to kill it, sprinkling a mixture of salt and ash will prevent the beast from forming back into one full body and it’ll die by sunrise.”

“So, we go in at night and find the lower half of its body and salt that baby up, and the job’s done?” Dean inquired.

“I guess so. But if this thing just had four meals, I highly doubt it’ll be hunting again for a while. It says they only feed one week out of every month.”

“Great, so how are we gonna kill it?”

“It says that silver slows it down.”

“So we stir it up, keep it busy, one of us sprinkles the salty-ash whatever and boom. Case closed.”

***

You held your breath as you slowly walked through the Manananggal’s den. Your flashlight only lit up a small portion of the abandoned warehouse at a time. You snuck from room to room in search of the beast, a gun loaded with silver bullets tucked in the waistband of your jeans and a silver knife in your palm. You also had a bag full of mixed salt and ash in your back pocket.

All of a sudden, you heard something move that wasn’t from your own two feet. You swallowed thickly, standing your ground. “Come out come out wherever you are-” You hummed.

Your flashlight began to flicker, and you hit it against your wrist. “No, no no no-” It went out. You couldn’t see anything. All the windows had been boarded up. There wasn’t a single spec of light to be seen. “Crap.” You whispered. You really didn’t think this one through.

***

The Impala rolled up outside the old abandoned energy factory, a crescent moon providing little light in the starry night sky.

“Alright, Sammy, let’s do this.” Dean sighed, Baby’s doors creaking as both of the boys simultaneously shut them. Before either of them could get to the trunk to grab weapons, a woman’s scream from inside the factory pierced their ears. They exchanged a quick glance of panic before running towards the doors.

“Damnit, locked.” Dean mumbled.

Sam began ramming into the doors with his shoulder, and Dean started used his legs.

“I don’t think it’s locked.” Sam panted. “It’s sealed.”

The scream returned, multiple gunshots ringing out after. The beast roared in pain, but your silver bullets didn’t stop it by any means.

“You keep working here, I’m gonna try and get one of these windows open.” Sam said.

The boys worked and worked, but they weren’t working fast enough.

You cried out in pain as the beast bit into your abdomen and clawed at your arms and legs. It hurt, but you almost couldn’t feel a thing. The adrenaline was numbing you, and you were beginning to lose consciousness.

Suddenly a bright light blinded you. Your vision was blurred. The beast was a black blob on a canvas of white. You saw something move out of the corner of your eye. The beast retreated, and you felt your skull crack against the cement floor. Gunshots rang faint in your ears. Everything slowly faded to black.

Chapter Text

Your eyes were the first to work again. The warm glow of the morning sun seemed overwhelming at first, but it became soothing as your eyes adjusted. Your ears came next, and you heard a man speaking softly. Your eyes began to scan the room, another old motel room just like the one you had been staying in, to see that he was sitting on the bed to the left of the one you were laying in. He noticed that you had awoken.

“Sammy, she’s awake. I gotta go.” He hung up his phone and kept his eyes locked on yours. You felt your body shiver and wince. He sat on the edge of your bed by your legs. You hissed at the movement, your entire middle crying out in pain. You could feel the rows of stitches across your stomach and chest without even having to see them. “Sorry.” He said. His voice was just as deep as it was when you saw him last. His big green eyes stared straight into your soul. You would never forget those eyes. “I’m Dean.” He smiled softly.

“Please, stop!” You sobbed. You felt the cool metal sink into your skin once again. That would be the 73rd scar. You had been counting.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’m afraid that’s not how it works.” He hummed, carving another slice down your side. 74.

“I never did anything to you!” You screamed. “We’re both here for the same reason. You went for your brother, and I went for my sister. Why can’t we just try and-” Your sentence was cut off by another blood curdling cry as he slid the knife down your sternum.

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever done this before, but there usually isn’t this much talking.” He snapped.

“Hey-” He whistled softly and waved in front of your face.

You looked into his green eyes again, swallowing. “I’m Y/N.” You mumbled, avoiding any eye contact.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.” He held out his hand. You didn’t accept his gesture. “Right, okay. How do you feel?”

“I’m okay. It hurts. I’ve felt worse.” You were being short on purpose. You were scared out of your wits. You never got to meet the real Dean. You heard about how he saved the world with his brother, but you didn’t know if these two were sane by any means. And based off of what you witnessed in Hell, you saw Dean Winchester as a monster.

You were also trapped. You couldn’t exactly throw a punch and run either, not with your current condition. If he didn’t touch you, you weren’t going to touch him.

“Alright, well,” He clapped his hands together. “Sammy’s gonna be back with breakfast soon, that’s my brother, and, uhm, he’s bringing you more pain meds, too. You got beat up pretty bad. So um, just relax, take it easy. There’s the TV remote, we’ve got pay per view. Just, uh, let me know if you, need anything.”

He seemed nervous, anxious even. Nothing like before. He began to rise, but you stopped him, “Did you kill it?”

“Huh?” His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh!” He chuckled, licking his lips. “Yeah, we got it. No worries.”

“I should’ve been more prepared.” You mumbled. You felt the guilt overtake your form. Quinn would be disappointed in you. She’d call you reckless and tell you to never go in alone like that again. It didn’t matter anymore. You did everything alone now.

“It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart.”

His pet name gave you goosebumps. The last time he called you that he had a knife to your throat. He noticed your sudden discomfort and fell silent, scratching the back of his neck with his hand.

Suddenly the doorknob twisted and in came Sam Winchester. “Hey-” He smiled, setting all of the bags down on the table. Dean stood to greet his brother, and you simply watched their mannerisms. They were certainly a charismatic duo. “I’m Sam.” He sat on the edge of the opposing bed, smiling warmly.

“Y/N.” You returned. “Um, thanks for, saving my life.” You said, looking over at Dean briefly. “Both of you.”

“You’re welcome.” They said simultaneously, exchanging a glance after. “Well, I got lots of different things for breakfast.” Sam smiled. He was cute, and you could feel his kindness from a mile away. It was clear that he cared about you, even though you had just officially met. “I figured that whatever we didn’t eat Dean could finish off.”

At first Dean looked offended, but then he shrugged. “You’re not wrong.”

You started to uncover yourself out from under the sheets, but both of the boys tensed up.

“Whoa, hold on, take it easy.” Sam said, leaning towards you to spot you in case you fell. “I can fix you a plate if you’d like.”

“I just need to use the little girl’s room.” You grinned softly, wincing shortly after.

“Let me help you.” Sam said, letting you lean against his body as a rock so you didn’t fall.

As soon as you were on two feet, you couldn’t believe how weak you felt. Sam walked you all the way to the restroom and made sure you had a good grip on the sink before he closed the door behind you.

With cold, shaky hands, you slowly lifted your shirt to reveal the damage that had been done. There were going to be scars on top of your scars. Most of the old ones across your abdomen were from Hell, but these were going to be some of the first scars earned from hunting to lay there.

You felt your inside begin to church. Hearing Dean’s voice again made you remember things that had taken you years to forget.

Eventually you stopped screaming. You knew that nobody was going to hear you. It’s not like you were going to die, either. You were already dead.

Dean had used a multitude of tools on your body by now. You’d lost count. You simply stared off into the darkness of the cold room through tear-stained eyes.

“Gone quiet, have we?”

You glared at him. He had tied your mouth shut with a handkerchief a while back so you couldn’t speak to him.

“You know how good this feels?” He began. “To have suffered your whole life, and finally get to deal some pain out yourself? To watch other people suffer, and for once it isn’t you?”

You avoided his gaze, and simply breathing heavily when he cut you again. Another tear slid down your face. It almost didn’t hurt anymore. The pain was so overwhelming that you had lost the capability to feel.

Eventually, you were finally put back on the rack and Dean grabbed another poor soul to torture. The cycle took a little longer than usual, and it probably was a week or more before he tortured you again. By the time he got to you again, he had already forgotten who you were.

A knock on the door woke you from your thoughts. “Just tell me when you’re ready, okay?” Sam said.

“Okay.” You responded, barely loud enough for him to hear. You tried your hardest to swallow it down, but you felt the bile rising too quickly in your throat. You dropped to your knees, quickly grabbing your hair out of the way and letting it all go in the toilet bowl. There wasn’t much in your stomach to let go of, so your body instantly switched to dry heaving. With every hurl your wounds burned, and you felt the little bit of strength you had leaving your body by the second.

On the other side of the door, Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Dean began eating his breakfast, pointing a finger at his head a spinning it around. Sam rolled his eyes. He didn’t think you were crazy, but you did seem a bit different. There wasn’t anything wrong with different in his eyes.

“She’s afraid of me.” Dean mouthed.

Sam looked confused. “Why?” He mouthed back.

Dean shrugged. “Beats me.”

***

A week passed, and you were recovering nicely. There was no sign of infection. You trusted Sam to check your wounds, considering he was the one who did most of the stitching. The boys had gotten most of your things from your motel room down the way and had moved you in with them. It still shocked you that by chance they had decided to stay in the same motel as you. Dean had slept in your motel rooms a few nights so he wouldn’t have to sleep in the Impala, and Sam had been staying with you.

You warmed up to Sam a lot quicker than you did to Dean. You couldn’t help that it was in your nature to fear Dean. That’s all that you did for 50 years in Hell.

The first night you could finally shower, the boys had a conversation while the water was running. They spoke in hushed tones.

“Sammy, this chick is weird.”

“Dean, she’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, to you! She won’t even look at me!”

“She talks to you a little each day. She doesn’t talk to me much, either.”

“I still want to know why she went out there all by herself. Does she always hunt alone?”

“I don’t know, Dean, maybe you should ask her.”

Dean answered with a glare. “Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Fine, I will. Your loss for conversation.” Sam replied. Dean didn’t answer. “It’s pretty obvious this girl has been through hell. She probably has a good reason for working alone.”

The water cut off in the bathroom, signaling the end of their conversation.

Chapter Text

Later that night, Sam purposefully left just so Dean would try and talk to you. You both sat in silence for about ten minutes, until Dean couldn’t take it anymore.

“Can I ask you something?” He piped up.

His voice startled you. “Um, sure.”

“Why did you go in there alone, knowing that that thing only preys on women?”

“Pregnant women,” You corrected him. “And I am not. That thing was going to attack whatever came into it’s nest, male or female, human or not. I always work alone.”

Dean nodded. “Don’t feel like you need to answer this, but, can I ask why?”

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t-” You couldn’t tell him. You could see that he was genuinely trying to build a friendship with you. He didn’t remember. Maybe that was for the best.

“I understand, sweetheart. Don’t sweat it.” He winked at you. You felt your heart skip a beat. Immediately after, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. You never felt this anymore. You hadn’t felt it since Quinn was around. You quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and let the memories take over once again.

It was just another hunt with your sister.

You never knew it was going to be your last.

“Quinn!” You screamed, tears streaking down your face. You couldn’t save her. The demon had you pinned against the wall. “Let her go!”

The demon laughed maniacally. “Why would I ever do that? I have the Quinn Y/L/N, the hunter that sent my family back to Hell, right here.” He had Quinn pinned up against the other wall, except he was choking her.

He had gotten a hold of the demon knife Quinn was going to run him in with and was oh so gently running the tip of the blade across her skin.

“Take me!” You cried.

The demon froze.

“Take me, let her live.”

“No-Y/N-” Quinn choked out. She was shaking her head.

The demon looked between the both of you for a short moment. “Nah, I want her.” He shrugged, running the knife through Quinn’s chest.

She screamed and so did you, the demon exiting his victim’s body as soon as the deed was done. Quinn dropped to the floor, and you raced over to help her.

“Quinn, oh my God, it’s gonna be okay-” You cried, taking your sister’s warm palm in your own.

“Y/N,” She breathed, barely alive. “Always keep fighting.”

“No, not without you.” You retorted. You watched as the muscles in her face slowly relaxed. “Quinn?” She didn’t move. Her hand felt limp in yours. You began sobbing, and you held her body close.

You kept a tight grip on her palm until it was no longer warm.

You looked up into the mirror to see that tears had covered your face and shirt, your nose red and eyes bloodshot. You must’ve been gone for a while, because Dean knocked on the door and you jumped.

“Y/N, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You croaked out. “I’m fine.” It was obvious you were crying. You had probably been sobbing and Dean had surely heard you.

“Okay, just, um, let me know if you need anything.”

Something in your mind clicked. You slowly opened the door. Dean was still standing there.

“Can I have a hug?” The words came out of your mouth before you could even process them in your head.

Dean looked shocked, but the sorrow in his eyes was all too real. “Of course, sweetheart.”

The nickname caused goosebumps on your skin to rise again, but they vanished seconds after he took you into his arms. You sniffled a few more times as the last tears fell from your eyes. His strong arms felt good around your frail body. He instinctively began to rub small circles into your back with his thumb, and that only soothed you even more. “Do you want to talk about it?” His deep voice caused his chest to rumble against yours.

“No, thank you.” You responded softly.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled softly to himself. You two were finally getting somewhere past awkward tension.

You trusted him.

That was all he wanted.

***

A few more weeks passed, and you were finally capable of doing most things on your own without requiring supervision from the boys. They had practically treated you like a queen, and you couldn’t be more thankful. The second week had been better than the first, and you were finally starting to open up again. You hadn’t really socialized since you came back from Hell. You forgot how good it felt to feel.

You were warming up to Dean more. It was clear that he was nothing like he had been before, not really. That made you feel better, even though there would always be that small part of you that would never forget what he did to you. There was another small part of you that was beginning to have feelings for him. He was being so kind to you, him and Sam both, and you couldn’t deny that he was insanely attractive. Those big green eyes didn’t seem as frightening as they did before.

“Y/N, I think you are well on the way to a successful recovery.” Sam grinned, checking your stitches again.

You felt self conscious lying there on the motel bed with your shirt rolled up to just beneath your breasts. Dean was trying to avert his gaze, but he wasn’t being very discreet about peeking either. Sam was just looking at your stitches, nothing more. You knew that.

“I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you two.” You replied. “Thanks, again.”

The boys exchanged a look as you sat up and let your shirt cover your wounds again.

“Y/N-” Dean began. “We’ve been thinking…”

“No hunter should have to work alone. And, you’re in no condition to work alone. Not now, anyways.” Sam continued.

“So, what do you say?” Dean asked. “Are you up for a little road trip?”

You were almost dumbfounded. The Winchesters wanted you to come with them. Your heart fluttered, and you thought of your sister. Quinn would have already said yes, but here you were sitting and basically gaping at them in shock.

“Yes.” You whispered. “Yes,” You repeated, louder the second time. “I’d love to.”

Chapter Text

The next day, Dean helped you pack your bags and load them up into the Impala. Sam was going to follow in your pickup truck since you were still too weak to drive such a distance. (It was also a way Sam was making sure you got some alone time with Dean. He wasn’t blind and it was obvious there was something going on between the two of you.)

Dean helped you to the car and Sam opened the passenger side door for you. You had never been treated this nice by any men in your entire life. You had no shame in enjoying it.

As soon as the Impala roared to life, “Ramble On” by Led Zeppelin began to play.

“My favorite song-” You and Dean said simultaneously, locking eyes after. You quickly smiled and looked away.

“You know it’s nice riding with someone who has the same music taste.” Dean began, looking into Baby’s mirrors as he backed the car out of its parking spot. “Apparently Sam only has a thing for hair metal.”

You chuckled. “I never listen to anything else.” Wait, that didn’t sound right . “I mean I listen to things other than Zeppelin I just...yeah, you know what I mean.” You listened to the song a little more. It brought back memories. “This was my sister’s favorite song too.” The words just slipped out.

“Your sister, huh?” Dean jumped on the chance. You had mentioned a family member. He was still dying to know why you worked alone, or at least just something else about you.

“Yeah. Her name was Quinn.”

It took all that you had to give your sister a proper funeral. You didn’t burn her body. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

You had her buried next to her your mother in your hometown. You remember standing over her freshly covered grave, weeping.

That’s all you did for weeks.

You’d visit her.

Pour her a drink.

Weep.

And eventually, leave.

The pain become too much for you. You got angry. Your sister deserved to live, and you didn’t.

So, you went to the crossroads.

You summoned a demon.

You sealed the deal.

You go to Hell, and your sister gets to live again.

They let you see her, once. From far away. Just to prove that the deal was done. When you saw her alive and well again, it brought tears to your eyes.

And just like that, you never saw the light of day again for 50 years.

“Quinn’s a pretty name.” Dean said, causing you to flinch.

“Yeah, she was a beautiful girl. I’ve got a picture in my wallet, but, I haven’t looked at it in years. I just...I can’t.”

“Did you always hunt with your sister?”

You nodded. “Since we were teens. A demon killed our mother. I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your father?”

“Never knew him. Slimy pig didn’t wait around to see his own children be born.” You felt anger again. It had been a long time since words came seething off your tongue like that.

“Wow.” Dean breathed. He was almost speechless. This was the longest, and deepest, conversation he’d had with you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I really am. I know what it feels like, sort of. Nobody deserves that. None of us do.”

You nodded. “But, you Winchesters have a rep for always getting to come back from the dead. At least you actually got to see Sam again.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

No. Dean wasn’t going to let you shut down on him now. “Did Quinn come back?”

“No. I should’ve have said anything.” You turned to look out the window.

Dean glanced over at you a few times out of the corner of his eye. He knew that was all he was going to get out of you today. “I meant what I said.”

You looked at him.

“I don’t say things like this a lot. Sam’s the soft mushy guy, not me. But, you are a really great girl, Y/N. I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks…”

You couldn’t help but scoff to yourself. That was an understatement.

“...but I’m glad you opened up to me. I’m glad that you trust us. I would appreciate it if you stuck around, really, I would.”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly. Suddenly, all of the fear came rushing back. You hunted alone for a reason. You could never love again because you could never forget how badly it hurt to lose the only person you loved. What were you doing here ? Sitting next to the man who tortured you for years on end, trusting him, having feelings for him? What was wrong with you? Had you lost your senses?

You’d gone soft. Being treating like a queen, the social contact, the hospitality. It’d all gone to your head. You’d become weak. Being able to feel made you weak . This proved it. You’d made a horrible mistake.

You couldn’t stay.

You couldn’t trust Sam, or Dean.

You couldn’t have feelings for them.

You just couldn’t.

***

It didn’t take you long to doze off in the passenger seat. Between the purr of the engine and soft tune of “Dust In The Wind” by Kansas, you were out in under a few minutes.

Dean tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Every now and then he would look at your sleeping form out of the corner of his eye. He admired your body. A few lustful thoughts crept into his mind, but he quickly fought them off.

He wanted to get to know you. He felt the need to protect you, and he wasn’t quite sure why. There was a small part of him screaming that he knew you. He’d seen you before. He just couldn’t remember where.

While Dean was thinking about you, your mind was racing in your sleep. Whenever you fell into a deep sleep, your head always travelled to depths that it could never seem to come back from.

The first few times were the worst. The pain was unbearable. And you thought you were suffering on earth? What a joke.

Week after week, month after month, year after year, Dean would torture you. He made you confess things you had long forgotten about and feel guilty about them. Sometimes he and the other demons would taunt you by appearing as your sister, or your mother.

You just kept reminding yourself that your sister was alive. That was all that mattered.

One day, you knew it was your turn to be tortured. You waited for Dean to come and drag you into the room where he would make you suffer for days on end.

But he never came.

You watched in awe as an angel appeared in the darkness of Hell. He came for Dean, grabbing him by the shoulder and taking him away.

You locked eyes with angel for a split second. He saw you crying out for help. You silently prayed that he would come back.

It took a few years, but he did.

Castiel came back for you.

The ringing of a cell phone woke you from your slumber. You gasped and sat up, quickly wiping the drool from your chin when you realized where you were.

“Hey Sammy-” Dean answered the phone.

You heard Sam’s muffled voice on the other end of the phone, and you looked in the rear view mirror to see that he was still following in your truck.

“Yeah we can stop.” Dean paused. “Y/N, you okay with making a pitstop?” You nodded. “Yeah she’s good. She was sleeping.” He waited again. “Okay, we’ll see you in ten.” He tossed the phone on the seat between the both of you and glanced up at your face. “Hey honey-” He teased. “Did you have a nice nap?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Your head was still spinning.

“We’re just gonna grab a bite and get back on the road. I’d say we’re about halfway there.”

You simply nodded. Sadly, you’d lost your appetite.

Chapter Text

You picked at your food on the plate in front of you. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. Your big mistake, trusting the boys and coming with them. You needed to get away. The feeling of their presence made you sick. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You blurted out, avoided eye contact as you left. The boys watched you until you disappeared behind the bathroom door.

“She’s acting funny again.” Dean leaned in towards Sam. “She fell asleep, and while she was out, she started making noises.”

Sam snickered. “Okay?”

“Not happy noises, Sam. She started mumbling things. The first few times I thought I was hearing things, but then she said it louder.”

“Said what?”

“Castiel. She kept calling out for Cass.”

Sam became intrigued in his brother’s rambling. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” Dean was tense. “And she told me that she had a sister, Quinn, a demon killed her. That’s why she’s alone.”

“Dean-”

“And she said something about me coming back. Oh crap, what was it?”

“What was what?” You said, sliding back into your seat.

Dean panicked. “Um, the uh-”

“The name of the road we turned off of to get here? It was Saratoga.” Sam interjected.

“Yeah, that’s it. Thanks, Sammy.”

You knew they were lying, but you played it off as nothing. You had to keep it cool, and not let them know that you were up to something.

***

Later that night, the three of you arrived to a little town in North Dakota where reports that pointed fingers at a vamp’s nest had been trending. You were surprised at how happy you were to see a motel again so soon.

You observed as Sam asked for a double with a pull out bed. The woman’s face at the desk dropped. It was an awkward situation, because lots of people always thought Sam and Dean were together before they had a girl tagging along. Now this poor woman was looking at two very attractive men who had a pale, clearly weak, girl with them. What was she supposed to make of that?

“I’m afraid we don’t have any pull outs left.”

Just as Dean was about to say something, Sam interrupted him. “No worries. We’ll take the double and make it work.”

She looked at the three of you questioningly. “Okay.” She typed a few things into the computer, got a name for the room, and handed Sam the key.

“What do you mean we’re gonna make it work?” Dean snapped lowly as the three of you walked back outside.

“We’ll make it work, Dean.” Sam repeated. Sam was staying calm and Dean was getting worked up. You smirked at their mannerisms. The boys stopped at room 12 and Sam slid the key into the lock. You filed in behind them and took in the sight of the sleeping situation.

There were two double beds that were supposed to be queens. They sure didn’t look like queens, if anything a medium between a twin and a queen.

“Welp, looks like I’m sleeping with Baby again.”

“I never said you had to sleep in the car, Dean.” Sam turned to face his brother. The two were getting heated again.

“What are we gonna do then, huh? It’s either you and me, you and Y/N, or me and Y/N. And these beds don’t look big enough for either of us by ourselves, let alone with another person.”

“I think you two should share a bed.” You smirked. “You are brothers after all.”

“That’s exactly why we can’t share.” They both retorted.

As anxious as you were, you had to admit that you loved it when they talked at the same time.

“I’m going to go change, get into one of these beds, and go to sleep.” You began, going through your bag. “You two can decide if you’re going to sleep together, or one of you with me. I’m tired, there are stitches preventing my organs from falling out, and quite frankly, I don’t care.” You practically snapped, sighing after.. “Hash it out, boys.” You slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

There was a reason you didn’t care.

You weren’t going to be with the boys much longer.

Sam turned to Dean with a cocky grin on his face. “I think we both know the answer to this question.”

“Sam, no. I’m not- come on man, this isn’t fair.”

Sam just kept smiling. “We both know you want to. It’s no secret.” He plopped down on the bed closest to the door and sprawled himself out. “Now you’re stuck, because there’s no way you’re getting me off of this bed.”

Dean glared at his little brother. “Y’know, sometimes I’m proud that I taught you how to be an asshole, but then there’s times like this where I want to strangle you for it.”

“You said it, not me.” Sam shrugged.

As if on cue, you came back out of the bathroom. You didn’t say a word about the situation at hand. You simply unmade the bed, crawled under the covers, and turned to face the wall.

About twenty minutes passed with the occasional shuffle of bags or Sam turning in his bed. You were almost asleep when you felt the other side of the bed sink down, and Dean’s back press up against yours. You froze. You didn’t breathe, you didn’t even blink. You waited. Counting every passing second, until finally, you felt him fully relax into the mattress. Not long after, he began snoring. That was your signal.

It was time to go.

You snuck out as quiet as you possibly could. The were tears streaming down your face by the time you made it into the driver’s seat of your truck for multiple reasons. One: You were in pain. Your medication had worn off and your abdomen throbbed with every breath you took. Two: It hurt. It hurt to say goodbye again. You’d only been with the boys for a little over a month, but that was long enough to become attached. You had feelings for Sam, and mixed signals about Dean. Dean scared you. You were running away from him, too. You remembered that it was still him that did those things to you, that cut you and watched you bleed like it was a normal thing. Three: You’d messed up. You trusted these two, only to have them pry you open and revive your emotions. They were the one thing you swore you’d leave in the grave when you came back. It was time to put them back where they belonged.

It was pitch black outside, your headlights only lighting up small portions of the road in front of you.

Your eyes shot open. There was nothing in sight. Just pure black. You gasped for air, feeling your lungs expand with oxygen once more. There was an inexplicable ache throbbing in your left shoulder. You tried moving. Your muscles were weak, and your bones cracked with each movement.

“Hello?” You tried, the sound bouncing right back at your face. There was something in front of you, and it was close. You touched it with your hands. Wood. You began to feel all around the enclosed space. It quickly occurred to you that you were in a coffin.

It took everything you had to bust open the coffin lid, and then the dirt started to rush in. You held your breath as you began to dig.Your head began to spin as you clawed away at the earth before you. You kept your eyes shut tight and prayed that you were close. The dirt got warmer and softer, until finally your hand burst out of the ground.

Like the zombie that you were, you slowly rose up out of the ground.

You were free. You laid in the ground and took in the beauty of the blue sky and white puffy clouds.

No more Hell. No more Dean. No more suffering.

***

You were only on the road for about ten minutes when your phone began to ring.

It was Sam.

You ignored his calls and voicemails. He called 16 times.

The tears were still streaming down your face. He left you a different voicemail each time he called.

“Y/N please pick up, just tell us where you are we’ll come find you. Stay put.” His voice called out from your phone.

“No!” you sobbed, pressing your foot harder against the gas pedal. You truck’s engine roared as the vehicle picked up speed.

“We can help you, Dean and I just want you to be safe.”

“No you don’t!”

Suddenly, a sharp curve in the road seemed to come from nowhere. Your truck flew off the road, flying downhill through the woods. You were being thrown every which way in the driver’s seat, more screams escaping from your throat.

In the blink of an eye, it was over.

The front end of your truck had crashed into a tree, and your head had been smacked against the steering wheel. You lay there unconscious, blood seeping from your wounds. In the background, your phone continued to ring.

Chapter Text

You started with the walk. You walked for miles, hours on end. You had to find Quinn.

People that passed by in cars gave you looks. You didn’t exactly look human and couldn’t blame them.

Eventually, you made it to a little town. It wasn’t your hometown, but it was close. You remembered the place, but it had changed since you’d been gone.

You got your hands on a newspaper and read the date. You had been gone for 10 years.

You asked around, as crazy as you looked, and finally got directions to your hometown.

You made it back, you were home.

But your sister wasn’t.

You soon found out that Quinn died in a car crash only a year after you’d saved her life.

You should’ve known. Deals didn’t work that way. Nobody ever got a happy ending.

***

“Y/N?” A gravelly voice mumbled in your ear.  “Y/N?”

You eyes slowly fluttered open. You were still in the woods, but the sun had risen now. Trees towered above you. A face came into focus. A man.

“You suffered a terrible concussion.”

“Who, who are-” You stuttered out, trying to sit up. A hand was placed on your back for assistance.

“You don’t remember me?”

Then it clicked.

“Castiel?” You breathed.

“Careful.” He said as he helped you stand. “I healed all of your wounds but you are still very weak.” You slightly lifted your shirt to see that all of your stitches had vanished, all of your wounds healed, and all of your scars gone.

You soon realized you weren’t alone. Sam and Dean were standing about ten feet back. You quickly retracted and backed up behind Castiel.

“Y/N, Sam and Dean wish no harm upon you.”

“I don’t care.” You muttered. “Get away from me!”

“Y/N please-” Sam pleaded.

“No! Stay back!” You started backing up as they approached you. It was clear that they weren’t going to stop. “Stop!” You gave them one more chance. They didn’t listen. You turned and bolted. They only followed you.

You ran as fast as your legs could carry you. You dodged the trees, but branches sliced open your arms and legs as bolted through them. A few scratched your cheeks, some crunched beneath your feet.

“Y/N!” Sam called out. He was closest, him and those long legs. Dean was right behind him.

Tears were streaking down your face yet again, and your throat began to burn from your heavy breathing. You were losing momentum.

Seconds later, you felt something graze your back. Sam was right behind you, reaching out to grab your coat collar. He was successful, the two of you halting to a stop. You held your arms back and slid out of you coat, trying to pick up your speed again but it was too late. Sam had you in a tight grasp before you even realized it.

“Let go of me!” You screamed, kicking your legs, squirming in every way possible to get out of his hold on you.

“Y/N-” Sam tried to get through to you. “Calm down, come on-”

Dean came into your vision. “Stop! Stop!” You screamed, retreating towards Sam. You kept your eyes on Dean. “Don’t touch me.” You panted.

“Y/N, please-” Dean tried.

You flinched and turned your body towards Sam’s. Your sobbing continued. “Don’t let him hurt me again-”

“I never touched you!” Dean shouted. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stand you being afraid of him anymore.

You froze. “You never touched me?” You began. “You really don’t remember do you?” Dean just looked at you, eyebrows furrowed. Sam kept his arms on you, but you turned to face Dean now. “You don’t remember all of those years we spent together, Dean? All the laughs we shared? The blood, the sweat-” You trailed off, regaining yourself, “-the tears?”

“No, Y/N. I don’t. I’m sorry.” He was trying to play along with you. Both of the boys thought you’d lost your mind.

“You don’t remember the screaming?” You continued. “My screaming? My blood all over your hands? Do I dare say, how good it felt? To have suffered your whole life, and finally get to deal some pain out yourself? To watch other people suffer, and for once it isn’t you? Do you remember me now?”

Dean was frozen. His green eyes locked on your (y/e/c) eyes. He remembered those eyes. All was silent.

“Y/N.” He breathed. “Y/N, I remember you.” He swallowed the lump in his throat, a single tear sliding down his cheek. “I’m sorry-” He took a step towards you. You flinched and pushed yourself against Sam again. “I know that words can’t fix what I’ve done. I get it, Y/N. I’m a monster. I know. But please believe me when I say that I am sorry ,” he bit his lip, fully crying now, “I never should’ve done those things to you. I regret everything I ever did to hurt you. You don’t have to forgive me, you never have to see me again. Just please, let Sammy and Cass help you.” He took another step towards you, and you just tensed up again. “I just want you to be safe. I just want you to be happy,” the last few words only came out a whisper, “because I love you.”

Your mind was torn. You believed him, you just wanted to drop your guard and go kiss his perfect lips, wipe away his tears and tell him that it wasn’t his fault. But there was the other part of you, too afraid to speak, too afraid to feel, too afraid to trust. The loss, the hurt, the pain, it had eaten you alive. You would never recover from that.

“Dean-” Cass spoke up. “Come with me.”

Dean looked at you for a little while longer, afraid that it was going to be the last time he ever saw your beautiful face. He took note of all of the little features that he loved most, and then he left.

Sam held you in silence for a few long moments. He felt you shaking beneath his fingertips. “Let’s get you out of here.” He began. You simply looked up at him, a sheen of tears covering your eyes. Sam felt his heart break- he knew exactly what you were going through. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” You hid your face in his chest.

“Help me,” You sobbed. “Please, help me.”

***

Castiel decided to have a little talk with Dean himself. He knew exactly what was running through Dean’s self-loathing mindset and none of it was true. Castiel had transported them back to the motel.

“Dean, stop.”

“Cass, don’t even think about it.” Dean snapped.

“You know you’re wrong. It wasn’t your fault.” Castiel began to raise his voice.

Dean snapped. “Yes it was, Cass! And I don’t feel like talking about it right now!”

“You’ll never feel like talking about it! You’ll just bury it deep down and loathe in it until it becomes nonexistent to you! So we’re talking about it!”

Dean fell silent, his jaw clenched as he avoided eye contact.

Castiel sighed, controlling his temper. “Y/N will fully trust you. It will just take time.”

“But will she ever forgive me?”

Castiel hesitated. “Yes. Part of her already has.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Y/N is at war with herself. That’s why she trusted you two from the beginning. She built a wall to keep out all of the memories of Hell, all of the pain she suffered when she lost her sister, her self-loathing even.” Dean looked at Castiel. “But, that wall broke down from being around you.”

“Just like with Sam.”

“Exactly. Except she didn’t get any special treatment. She just learned to live with it.”

“You can’t live with that kind of stuff running through your head, it’ll drive a person nuts.”

“And you and Sam are such great role models?”

“Shut up.” Dean huffed.

Castiel remained silent.

“Don’t actually-” Dean trailed off, huffing after. “Okay, but how do we help her? How is she supposed to warm up to me if she won’t even get near me?”

“She got close to you over time before, right?”

Dean remembered when he hugged you. “Yeah, but-”

“That part of her is still there. We just have to-”

“Bring it back out.”

“And keep it out.”

***

You went back to hunting after you found out your sister was dead.

The visions of Hell were always running through your mind. You would have to catch your own screams as you awoke in a cold sweat each night.

You slaughtered anything that got in your way.

You no longer took the time to exorcise demons.

You acted like a machine. You killed and moved on to the next victim.

You didn’t speak to anyone except yourself for weeks at a time. Sure you’d interview some locals, but socially you had no contact. Eventually, you no longer craved social contact.

You didn’t crave anything.

You had nothing left.

No hope, no contact, no family, no feelings.

You were alone.

And you knew you always would be.

***

“Y/N! Y/N, wake up!” Sam’s voice jolted you awake yet again. His eyes were the first thing came into focus. They were worried, and the bags under them were impossible to miss. You’d been a handful for Sam for days now and you felt awful about it.

You groaned inwardly. “I’m so sorry,” You sighed, holding your head in your hands. You’d had another nightmare again, and if Sam didn’t wake you up it would only get worse. That’s all it had been.

“It’s okay, it isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is, Sam. If it wasn’t for me you and Dean would be doing bigger and better things by now.”

Sam couldn’t help but smirk. “Y/N, I can promise you that we won’t be getting much further than where we’re at right now.”

“You know what I meant.”

“You aren’t a burden. If we didn’t want to help you we wouldn’t be here.”

You swallowed deeply. You knew he was telling the truth. Sam Winchester couldn’t lie, not with that puppy dog look on his face.

“I want to see Dean again.” You mumbled. Sam was taken aback.

“Hold on, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves here.”

“I’ve been thinking that the whole time, Sam. I want to see him, I want to apologize. In my head, it’s so much easier. But when I see him, it all comes rushing back and I just can’t...and it’s not his fault.”

“I know you feel.”

“I don’t want to lose my mind again.”

“I don’t think you will. You’ve been making incredible progress, Y/N. You aren’t giving yourself enough credit.”

Cass had been working some of his magic on you, slowing down your thought process so you could rest easy again. You heard him talking to Sam once about how you were basically possessed by your old memories. How comforting. Castiel couldn’t take away the memories but he was certainly helping you regain your sense of mind again. You weren’t stopping him. You wanted to be healed. You hated living like this. Dean had forgotten about most of his time in Hell, so why couldn’t you?

Other than Cass popping in when he could, it was just you and Sam in the motel room. Dean was down the road at another motel, and Sam would only talk to him when you weren’t in the room. Sam was a great caretaker. He always put you first, and dedicated so much of his time to just making sure you were okay. You’d never had anyone else do this except for Quinn, and that was so long ago. Sam’s caring nature made you feel loved and appreciated.

“Thanks, Sam.” You finally answered him.

He simply smiled, opening his mouth to answer when his phone rang instead. “Once sec.” He said softly, rising and putting his phone up to his ear. “Hey-” He paused. It was probably Dean. “Wait, what?” You saw Sam become tense. “No, hold on, you aren’t going by yourself.”

Dean had found the vamp’s nest and was ready to knock it off the map. “Well what am I supposed to do, Sam?”

“Cass can stay for a while. You just can’t go in there without backup, Dean.” Sam continued his conversation with his brother as he stepped out of the room.

“Well your hands are a little full, mom.” Dean sassed his little brother. “I don’t want her to go nuts again, Sammy. And if you leave her she might do just that.”

“She’s been doing really well. For a couple of days, she’s pretty grounded if you ask me. It’s not like we’ve had to keep her tied up or anything.”

“She seemed grounded the whole time she was with us! But that changed pretty fast don’t you think?”

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “I’ll be there in ten.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Bye, Dean.”

“Hey-” Dean’s phone began to beep, signalling that Sam had hung up on him. He simply rolled his eyes and tossed his phone down. He’d lost this battle.

Sam walked back into the motel room to see Cas sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. You’d been having a conversation with him, but you both stopped and looked up at Sam upon his entrance. “Sorry, I can-”

“It’s okay, Sam. I think we’re done here.” Cass gave you a small smile, rising from the bed. You returned his gesture.

“I think I’m gonna hop in the shower.” You said, standing as well.

“Okay, um, Y/N, I have to-”

“Dean needs you.” You said. “I know. I can handle myself for a few hours.”

“Cass was gonna stay here with you, if-”

“It’s okay. I was alone for years. A few hours are nothing.”

Sam nodded. “Okay.”

Once you had gotten into the shower, Sam and Castiel had a hushed conversation.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go far.” Cass began.

“Good. I still don’t want her here by herself.” Sam sighed as he began to grab some of his things. “Y’know, I just can’t wrap my head around it.”

“Around what?”

“Around, everything. Dean couldn’t remember her, but she remembers him. She remembers everything. I haven’t heard Dean talk about his time in Hell for a while now.”

Castiel hesitated before answering. “That’s because Dean had you.” Sam looked at him. “He had help, an outlet. Y/N’s been alone since she got back.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah. That makes sense. But you know what I also don’t get? How fast Dean and Y/N got close. I mean, sure, Dean hits on chicks a lot but this was different.”

Cass simply bit his tongue as Sam continued with his outward thinking.

“And I know Y/N’s trying her best, but I don’t see how she wants to see Dean again already. If this was me, and I was seeing Lucifer again, I certainly know that I wouldn’t want to see him. Well, I never wanted to see him even when I was actually seeing him, and I didn’t stop seeing him until you took all of the memories out of my head and-”

“Sam, Dean and Y/N are soul mates.”

“What?”

Cass looked over his shoulder before repeating himself. “Dean and Y/N are soul mates. I went back for her for a reason.”

“You went back for her?”

“Yes, I’m the one who pulled Y/N from Hell. It was technically my duty, since she’s meant to be with Dean. And I look after Dean.”

“Of course, but, Cass that’s the perfect answer. Why can’t you just tell them that they’re-”

“That’s not how it works. Even if we do tell them that won’t change anything. When two people are destined by God to fall in love, they have to do exactly that.”

“But how are Dean and Y/N going to fall in love if she can’t even be around him?”

“What do you think I’ve been working on this whole time, Samantha?”

Sam was shocked by Castiel’s sassy tone. “Woah, sorry Cass, I-”

“No, I apologize. I suppose I’ve been spending too much time around Dean.”

Sam shrugged, pouting his lips in a way that said you aren’t wrong . “Well, I’m gonna get going. Call me if anything goes wrong.”

“Of course. Say hello to Dean for me.”

“Will do.”

***

You took your time in the shower. The weak water pressure somehow felt soothing, the source of warmth giving life to your cold fingers and toes. The sheen of grime that had formed over your skin was eaten away by the lavender smelling soap as steam began to cloud the small bathroom. As you rubbed your arms your fingers traced the raised handprint etched into your shoulder. You remembered when you saw Cass’s face for the first time. You could just barely make it out in Hell, and you never saw it again until last week when you woke up after your accident.

Your hand slid down to your stomach next, you hadn’t felt smooth skin there in...years. You still couldn’t believe that Castiel had taken away all of your scars that had come from Hell, from Dean. It felt like a fresh start, a new you, physically. Now it was just time for a new you mentally.

When you got out of the shower, you studied yourself in the small bathroom mirror. It was a sight for sore eyes, seeing your skin so fresh and bare. It felt like you were looking at a different person.

And deep down, you knew that you were a new person now.

When you came out of the bathroom, Castiel was sitting at the table waiting for you.

“I guess you’re my babysitter now, huh?”

“You know we have no choice.”

“I know.” You worked on drying your hair with a towel, sitting on the edge of your bed. “I guess it’s just weird having someone to talk to.”

“Y/N, I have a confession to make.” You looked at Cass questioningly. “I shouldn't have left you alone all those years. I could’ve been there for you, after you found out Quinn was gone. I should have helped you. But, I guess I was a little busy-”

“Helping Sam and Dean save the world? I know about all that, or at least the general premise of it.”

“That doesn’t matter. You’re my duty, too. I’m sorry that I abandoned you.”

“Cass, you saved my life. You came back for me. And I guess I never really got to say thank you, so, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

There was a moment of silence until you broke it. “I do have one question for you though.”

“I’m listening.”

“Why did you come back for me?”

“Every angel is assigned specific people to guard. I was assigned Dean, and you.” Castiel swallowed thickly. He was a horrible liar. “So, when I went to get Dean, I went back to get you. I made the mistake of not sticking by your side, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you.”

Castiel nodded. “Thank you.” He sighed with relief to himself, you’d taken the bait. He was off the hook, for now.

***

“I told you I could handle it.” Dean snapped.

“I’m so sorry for helping you. You can thank me later.” Sam replied, throwing his bag into the trunk. Dean didn’t answer. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you so uptight about a girl before.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’ve got it bad for her, Dean. And hiding your feelings isn’t going to help anybody.”

Dean sighed, opening the driver’s side door.

“Hey! Don’t ignore me!” Sam slid into his side of the car.

“Sam, please, can we just go get this over with without any of your sappy touchy-feely crap? That’s all I’m asking for.”

“Okay.” Sam sighed. He waited a few moments. “First stage: denial.”

“Shut up, Sam!”

***

Hours had passed, and you or Cass hadn’t heard anything from Sam, or Dean. You and Cass hadn’t said much, he mostly paced around while you flipped through a book. You hadn’t moved much since you’d taken your shower. But suddenly, you felt a sharp pain in your abdomen.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“I’m just really sore suddenly, it happens all the time.” You breathed, putting a hand over your stomach. Then you winced again, holding your arm this time. Within seconds, you back was aching. “It hasn’t been this bad in a while, though.”

Castiel knew what was happening. Whenever a soulmate got hurt, their partner could feel it. Even if they had never met, or were on opposing sides of the globe. It was like how people would say that if their twin sibling got a cut on the arm, they would feel it even though they were unharmed. Dean was in trouble, and Y/N was feeling it. Literally. “Y/N, you said this happens often?”

“Yeah, but it usually blows over. Might take a while though. It varies every time.”

“I need to go, but you need to stay put.”

“Why, is something wrong?”

“No.” Cass began. “Well, yes, but it’s none of your concern. I’ll be back as quick as I can, okay?”

“Castiel wait-” Before you could finish your sentence, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Sam and Dean arrived to the rundown old cabin in the middle of some woods that Dean had pinned to be the vamp’s nest. Dean opened the trunk, handing Sam a machete and grabbing one for himself. He made sure his gun was loaded while Sam tucked his gun in the waistband of his jeans.

“How sure are you that we’re hunting vampires?” Sam said as he adjusted his jacket.

“100%.” Dean huffed. “Why, are you doubting my research skills?”

“I never said that. But you know how our first guess is never usually the right one.”

“Who said that this was my first guess?”

“Well, what are your other ones then?”

Dean shut Baby’s trunk. “Shut up. It’s vampires. 100%.”

As the boys made their way in, their flashlights shot through the darkness of the cabin. Machete in hand, Dean motioned for them to split up. Sam nodded, heading straight, while Dean hung a left. The cabin was old, but it had been inhabited recently. Dean ran his fingers across a desk, and there wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen. There was no noticeable damage to the house, either. Victorian age decor littered every room.

“Vampires. Gross.” Dean mumbled to himself.

Meanwhile, Sam found no trace of living. He swung open each door he walked past only to find either a) an empty room or b) a furnished room that was spotless. He was beginning to doubt his brother’s research. Based on what Sam had been looking at, all of the bodies not only been sucked dry but with fractures in distinctly in the same places. Their necks were all snapped, and bruises covered their elbows, knees, and necks.

If Sam knew one thing about vampires, he knew that they preferred to literally suck the life out of their victims. He had never heard of a group of vampires that killed their prey before draining them, especially since dead man’s blood slowed them down. It just didn’t make any sense.

Dean continued his search, keeping his guard strong and ready for attack. While he was looking inside of an empty bedroom, he heard floorboards creak behind him. He glanced over his shoulder before whipping around only to find nothing there.

His eyes locked on a closet across the hall, the door cracked open. Being what appeared to be the source of the noise, he made his way swiftly towards the door before kicking it open. There was nothing there except an old flight of stairs descending to the basement.

“Hunters.” A feminine voice said from behind him. “Always so stupid.”

Suddenly Dean felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and before he could blink he was flying backwards and tumbling down the stairs.

***

You knew something was wrong. Cas had been gone way too long and you hadn’t heard from any of them. The bursts of pain were now mainly in your head, your vision blurring once at the intensity of the ache.

When you regained yourself, you ran over to Sam’s laptop and went straight to the GPS. You found the location of Sam’s phone. He wasn’t far, but you couldn’t exactly walk there either.

You slipped on your jeans and flannel, topping it off with your leather boots and jacket. You tucked your gun in the waistband of your jeans and headed out.

The boys had taken all of the hunting equipment in the Impala. Your truck was history. Your eyes scanned the parking lot for any source of wheels, when you heard the roar of an engine off to the side. A man, a large, muscled man, had just pulled up on a motorcycle.

You took a deep breath before approaching him. He kicked out the kickstand of his bike, yet to turn it off, when he looked up at you. “Can I help you, miss?” He spoke loudly over the crackling engine.

“Yes. You see, I’m not from around here. I have no car, and I need to get somewhere. I was hoping you could give me a ride?” You put on your best puppy dog eyes.

His eyes scanned you from head to toe slowly, before a small smirk appeared on his chapped lips. “Depends on where you’re goin’, sweetheart .”

The nickname gave you chills. You immediately thought of Dean’s voice and felt the paranoia sinking in. But you chased the thought away. Sam and Dean, and probably Cass, were in trouble. They needed your help. You had to be strong for them.

“Anywhere would be fine.” You smiled devilishly, stepping closer to him. “You see, I don’t pay in cash.” As soon as you were close enough, you grabbed his neck and kept a strong old until he passed out. When his body went limp, you pushed him off the side of his bike. The keys were still in the ignition. “Thanks, muscles.” You grinned, hopping on the bike and walking it back out of the parking spot. You flew down the road, a knight in shining armour on her way to save three damsels in distress.

***

Dean’s eyes fluttered open. He slowly attempted in picking his head up only to have it smacked down again with something obscenely heavy.

“Stay down.” A man demanded.

Dean froze, blinking to try and regain his vision. The room was pitch black, and the only bit of light he would see was that illuminating from his flashlight that he’d dropped on the way down.

He heard movement coming from behind, and he heard Sam’s voice. “Dean!”

“Shut it!”

“Wait, stop.” Another voice said. “Dean, as in, Dean Winchester?” A woman laughed. “Then you must be Sam.”

Sam watched in fear as the woman speaking picked up Dean’s flashlight. Some of the light shone on her skin, which was a pale blue and covered in a sheen of slime. These definitely weren’t vampires.

She held the light up to her face as she spoke. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sam flinched. How could something so animalistic have such a human-like voice? Veins littered her blue skin, her eyes large and dark.

“I’m sorry, did I scare you?”

Sam didn’t respond.

“Allow me.” She flicked off the flashlight and tossed it somewhere in the room.

The creatures did everything in the dark. They took Sam and Dean’s weapons, tied them up, all of it without a single spec of light in the room.

“Sammy-” Dean groaned.

“Yeah, Dean, I’m here.”

“‘s not vampires.”

There was an uproar of laughter. “You thought we were vampires? That’s adorable.”

Suddenly the lights came on, and the creatures were revealed. Sam and Dean winced and the sudden change of light. There were five of them, five blue beasts with big black eyes.

“That’s actually very funny. I’m amused.” The one female said. There were two females. One older and one younger. There were three males, an eldest, and younger, and a youngest. A whole family.

“The Winchesters, in our basement? I feel honored.” The oldest male said.

“So what is this?” Dean growled. “Some kind of real life avatar crap?”

“We’re changelings, darling.” Said the mother figure. “We don’t suck blood, we suck synovial fluid.”

“The bruises.” Sam muttered.

“Exactly.” She hummed. “Smart boy.”

“So, you suck fluid from dead people’s joints. That doesn’t explain why they were sucked dry completely.”

“That’s from Andy here.” The mom said, patting the youngest boy’s head. “He’s a hybrid.”

Dean smiled. “How lovely.”

“Well, I think that's enough of the chatter. After all, it’s time for dinner.” The mother hummed.

“Lizzie, you’re getting old enough now. Go ahead, you pick first.” The father said to the daughter. She was the one that had knocked Dean down the stairs.

“Thank you, daddy.”

As she eyed up Dean, Sam was working his fingers behind his back to get untied. The hybrid boy, Andy, was close behind his sister.

“My joints are terrible. You don’t want to do that-” Dean rambled.

Just before little Andy sank his teeth into Dean’s neck, Castiel popped up out of nowhere.

Cass took one look at the situation before turning and popping one of the changelings in the mouth. He knocked over the father, causing the mother to lunge at him. Sam broke free of his confines in the midst and swung at Lizzie and Andy, who had better ideas. The two worked as a team to knock Sam off his feet.

Dean started working on the rope behind his back, but the middle son stormed over and ripped the knife out of Dean’s hand.

“You’re staying put, buddy.”

“Am I?” Dean replied, busting loose from the rope and punching him.

Sam was having a harder time than he imagined with two kids beating him up. They were insanely fast and strong, especially the little boy. Castiel was getting beaten to death by the parents, and Dean was practically wrestling with the older brother. Just as Andy and Lizzie got Sam pinned down, his teeth about to sink into Sam’s neck, gunshots rang out and everything seemed to freeze.

You had run in on the situation, guns blazing as you pumped the mother and father changeling full of silver-- they caught your eye first since they were closest to the stairs. They collapsed on the floor on either side of Cass. The children stopped their attacks on Sam and Dean and stared at you.

“Mommy?” Andy frowned, his teeth retracting in his mouth.

While he was looking away, Sam grabbed his machete and took his head off. Lizzie screamed and ran towards her older brother, but you already had your gun in the air. They were both on the ground in seconds.

Dean quickly scrambled to his feet, looking at Sam and Cas as they did the same. “Everybody okay?”

You all nodded.

“Y/N?” Sam mumbled. The attention turned directly to you.

You were frozen. Your eyes on Dean. You hadn’t seen him since…

Dean licked his lips subconsciously as he kept his eyes on you. You could see the fear in his eyes. “Y/N, it’s okay. You can drop the gun now.”

You didn’t even notice that you were still holding your gun up, loaded and ready to fire. You slowly lowered it, and you focused on your breathing. On all of the good things about Dean, on all of the things in your head that screamed out “ you’re in love with Dean Winchester ”.

But you just couldn’t get it out of your head that easy. Every time you blinked you saw Dean from Hell, but every time you opened your eyes he was standing there, staring at you with heartbreak and concern in his eyes.

Your breathing became shallow. There were tears brewing in your eyes. Sam went to move towards you, but you told him to stop. He froze.

You took one deep, shaky breath, before simply saying, “I’ll be waiting in the car.” You turned, and you left.

***

The boys didn’t move. Sam was ecstatic on the inside. You’d done it. You kept it together even though he could see right through you, how scared you were. How much you just wanted to scream and run away.

Dean was in shock as well. He was happy that you didn’t lose it, but he still felt like crap about everything. He was too nervous to move. What if you freaked out when he got in the car? What if you weren’t even getting in the car and you were bolting through the woods by now, terrified with tears streaming down your face?

Castiel was all too pleased to see that you were both getting closer to that final step. He knew that once you both could voice your love for each other, there would be no turning back. It was just getting to that point that was taking a while.

Meanwhile outside, you stumbled over to the Impala with weak knees. “Hey Baby,” you whispered. Just before you went to open the back door, you felt the knots in your stomach only become worse. You quickly turned and darted over to some brush just as you lost your last meal. You hadn’t eaten much that day, but it was just enough to spare you from dry heaving.

You heard commotion from behind, and suddenly there was a hand on your back. Another hand was pulling your hair out of your face, and you saw Sam out of the corner of your eye. “Thanks, Sammy.” You mumbled.

“Just take it easy.” He replied softly.

Dean was throwing the machetes back into Baby’s trunk and Cass was already in the backseat of the Impala. As Dean went to walk around the side of the car, he saw a motorcycle lying on it’s side by some brush near the house. That certainly wasn’t there before, he was sure of it. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam walking with you towards the car, so he sank into the driver’s seat and hoped for the best. Luckily it wasn’t going to be a long drive.

“She’ll be fine Dean. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Cass reassured from the backseat.

Dean glanced at him in the rear view mirror. “I hope so.”

Sam opened the door for you to slip into the backseat next to Cass, and he hopped in the passenger seat after.

“Everybody ready to go?” Dean asked, breaking the awkward silence as he started the engine.

“Yep. I think so.” Sam answered for the three of you, turning back to look at you. He flashed you a small smile and you reciprocated.

After Dean started backing the car out, Sam noticed the motorcycle too. “Hey, Dean, did you see that?”

“Yeah, I don’t know where that came from.”

You hesitated to answer, but the words eventually found their way out of your mouth. “It’s from me. I used it to get here.”

“Seriously?” Dean asked. “That’s awesome.”

“Did you hotwire it or something?” Sam questioned.

“No. I choked a guy.”

All of their eyes went wide as you simply looked out the window.

“We might want to hit the road tonight.” You spoke up. “That guy’s probably still at the motel and pissed.”

Sam huffed. “Yeah, that’s very well possible.” Silence fell over the car again, the hum of the engine sounding like music to your ears. “Y/N,” Sam began, “How did you know that silver would kill those things?”

“Lucky guess. They seemed human enough that I figured a regular gunshot wound would kill them, but I just wanted to be safe.”

“Thank you.” Castiel blurted out. He looked over at you.

“You’re welcome, Cass.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam said sincerely. “I don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t gotten there in time.”

You simply nodded. Suddenly you felt an arm drape over your shoulder, and you looked over to see Cass practically relaxing into the seat. “I’ve learned that human contact is one of the most effective forms of comfort.” He said.

A chuckle escaped your lips. You leaned into him a little more and let his body heat warm you up. Before you knew it your head was leaning on his shoulder and you hadn’t ever felt safer.

***

Your eyes slowly peeled open, and you looked up to see that you were still laying against Cass. He had pulled you closer, now your thigh was up against his and your entire midsection was practically draped onto him. You head was on his chest, and out of the corner of his eye you could see that his crystal blue eyes were simply watching cars roll by outside the window.

Soft snoring from the passenger seat caught your attention. You saw that Dean was out cold, and Sam was behind the wheel.

Castiel noticed that you were awake. “Go back to sleep. You need to rest.”

“Where are we going?” You asked softly, sitting up.

“To a friend of Sam and Dean’s. It’s the best place for you to go and rest.”

“His name’s Bobby Singer, Y/N.” Sam spoke up. “He’s like a father to us. He’s a good man.”

“Okay.” You nodded, too tired to feel stressed or concerned about anything, including the close proximity of Dean.

You cuddled up against Cass again, closing your eyes and listening to the hum of Baby’s engine. Sleep was your only escape, and even sometimes the horrors only followed you into unconscious.

Chapter Text

Sun seeped in through the blinds of the old bedroom. You tossed and turned a few times in the unusually soft bed, the mattress springs squeaking whenever you moved. The pillow underneath your head was so soft, you never wanted to move. The smooth sheets and down comforter kept your body at the perfect temperature. You hadn’t felt a bed this comfortable since your childhood.

As your mind slowly began to awake, you remembered that you were in the Impala last.

You quickly shot up in the bed, looking around for any source of danger or threat. You saw none. You looked on the nightstand next to the bed to see a clock, a few framed pictures, and a lamp. Your eyes looked closer at the photos. It took you a second, but you recognized the people in them.

There was one picture of an insanely young Sam and Dean. Dean looked to be about ten and Sam was five or six. Another picture was an older Sam, all dressed up in a cap and gown. He was holding his high school diploma. The third picture made you smile. It was a candid photo of the boys, smiles wide on their faces. They were sitting on a couch with a middle-aged man, laughing hysterically about who knows what. The man was smiling pretty wide, too. He must be Bobby, and this must be his house.

You threw your covers off and hopped out of the bed. You were still in your jeans and flannel from yesterday, a thick coat of grease on your skin and hair. You softly walked out of the bedroom and slowly crept down the hallway. You heard voices coming from your right.

“Hey Bobby, where’s the beer?”

“Where it always is, dumbass.”

You made your way to the stairs and slowly began your descent.

“Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Dean commented.

“You’re only all cheery because you got a full night’s sleep.”

You eventually made it to the bottom of the stairs. The voices were coming from another room. You slowly walked into the den which opened right into the kitchen. Dean froze when he saw you.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiled.

“Good morning.” You replied, you didn’t feel shaky or nervous or anxious. For the very first time, you felt okay.

Bobby looked back and forth between the both of you. “Aren’t gonna introduce me?” He finally broke the tension.

“Uh yeah,” Dean rubbed the back of his head, “Bobby, this is Y/N, Y/N, this is Bobby.”

“Any friend of my boys’ is a friend of mine.” Bobby smiled, offering his hand to shake. You took it, smiling.

“Thank you.”

“Make yourself at home.” Bobby then turned to Dean. “I guess I need to go get some stuff from the store. I don’t have enough food around here for the four of us.”

“Okay, mom, don’t forget the pie.” Dean called.

“Shut up, idjit.”

Within a matter of seconds, the tension returned. You were alone with Dean.

“Is the beer in the fridge?” You finally asked, acting as if you hadn’t heard Bobby say where it was only moments ago.

“Yeah, right side middle shelf.” Dean replied, leaning back against the counter.

You grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped it open and took a swig.

“How did you sleep?” Dean asked.

“Good, really good, actually.”

He nodded.

“What about you? Last I saw you were sawing logs in the car.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I got more sleep than usual. I can’t complain.” He paused before speaking again. “Y’know I never really said thank you about yesterday.”

You looked up at him.

“So, thank you.”

“No problem.” You grinned. You paused, thinking on your question before letting it fall off of your lips. “Dean?”

“Hm?”

“When we were in the woods, and, I was, a mess...did you really mean what you said?”

“I just want you to be safe. I just want you to be happy, because I love you.”

Dean froze. He swore he felt his heart skip a beat, and all of his muscles became tense. He wasn’t sure what to say. Did he tell her the truth? But she obviously didn’t feel the same way. That was impossible. “Um, I- uhh-”

“Morning.” Sam grinned, walking into the kitchen.

Dean inwardly praised his brother. He’d have to thank him later.

On the other hand, you thanked Sam but also cursed him. You’d finally been able to talk to Dean again without feeling you needed to remove yourself from everything. But, you simply smiled and looked up at Sam. “Morning.”

His hair was all messed up, but of course he fixed that by just running his hands through it a few times. “Where’s Bobby?” He asked as he grabbed a water out of the fridge.

“Grocery shopping.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “You mean, he went all by himself?”

“Uh huh.” Dean replied.

“He didn’t say anything about making you go get them?”

“Not a word.”

“Weird.”

You grinned at their mannerisms yet again. You decided this was a good time to dismiss yourself, since there was a break in tension and conversation. “Well, I think I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh yeah, it’s the first door on the right. Towels are under the sink.” Dean said.

“Thanks.”

After you had gone upstairs, Sam couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He spoke hushed so you wouldn’t hear. “Dean, how long have you guys been talking?”

“Not long.”

“But that was great! She seemed normal again!”

“Yep. Fantastic.” Dean tried walking away.

“What’s gotten into you, Dean? I thought you’d be thrilled to see her speaking to you again.”

“I don’t know, Sam. It’s a little hard to be happy that a girl’s not terrified of you for once because of what you did to her.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t sugar coat this. Please. I’m begging you. She doesn’t have feelings for me, Sam. There’s no way in hell! God, I sound like I’m fifteen.” Dean noticed that Sam was still grinning. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing, man. Nothing at all.”

“Besides, she seemed awful close with Cass yesterday in the backseat.”

“He was just trying to make her feel better.” Sam paused. “Is that, jealousy, I hear in your voice?”

“No!”

Sam crossed his arms.

“No! Sam, I am not jealous. I am not in love, none of this soft mushy bullshit that you find in books and movies.”

“Okay. Okay, whatever. I’m done. Just invite me to the wedding.”

Dean groaned outwardly as he walked away. “You anger me!”

“I know I do.”

***

After you got yourself clean and felt somewhat presentable, your stomach began growling. You had heard Bobby get back about 20 minutes ago, but you weren’t quite sure about going back downstairs. You wanted to see Dean, but you felt nervous about it still. You were mostly afraid the flashbacks would hit again.

You stalled for as long as you could. You paced around “your” bedroom for a while, you made the bed, you looked at each picture frame at least three times. You laid down, you tried falling back asleep a few times even. Eventually you weren’t hungry anymore, but you felt docile. You could feel the weakness that came with hunger overtaking you.

You heard someone rustling around in the room next to you. You listened close, and then you heard the footsteps approaching your room. There was a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N?” It was Sam.

“Come in.”

The door slowly creaked open, and you turned over in bed to face the doorway.

“Bobby brought back lunch, I figured you’d want something.”

“Thanks, yeah I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Are you okay? You don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine, just-”

“Nervous?”

You nodded.

“Y/N, you’ve been doing amazing. When I saw you two talking in the kitchen this morning I thought I was dreaming.”

“Thanks. It means a lot.”

“Come on, I’ll walk down with you.” Sam motioned, stepping out into the hall.

You and Sam went downstairs together, and your mouth started watering the moment you got a whiff of lunch. Bobby had brought back burgers, and you couldn’t resist a good burger.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I just got everything on it.” Bobby said, walking up next to you in the kitchen.

“Oh, thanks! I’m not picky. It smells amazing.”

You had noticed that Dean was on the couch, his feet kicked up on the table. You didn't let his presence steal your attention, and you focused on your lunch. You sat at the table and dug in, not letting anything get between you and your food.

Not to your knowledge, Dean watched you out of the corner of his eye. He admired a woman that could eat, especially one that ate like he did. In his eyes, you were perfect just the way you were. Your interests, your wit and intelligence, your sense of humor, your beautifully messy hair and faded flannel shirts. He just loved everything about you, and he didn’t even know it.

Sam and Bobby noticed that Dean was gazing at you. They exchanged a look with a smirk before returning to their research about a possible hunt not far out of Sioux Falls.

“So, what else you got Bobby?” Sam spoke up.

“Not much else than what I already told you. Unless you have any other thoughts, I’m stumped.”

Sam and Bobby exchanged another look.

“What about you, Dean?” Bobby called out.

“Hm?” Dean said, turning to face them.

“What do you think about the hunt?”

“Oh! Yeah, uhm, I don’t know I mean what are you guys thinking? Clearly I’m a little rusty, since I thought that changelings were vampires.” Dean trailed off, trying to act natural but failing miserably.

Sam and Bobby simply smiled before returning to their research.

“What?” Dean grunted.

They didn’t respond.

“I see how it is. The silent treatment, huh? Whatever. I’m cooler than you guys anyways. Nerds.” He huffed, rising and practically stomping out of the room with his heavy boots.

The commotion caused you to watch the happenings in the living room. You just shook it off as nothing. As Quinn used to say, boys will be boys, no matter their age.

***

The next day, you all kept relaxation on the brain. You helped Sam and Bobby research, while Dean went outside to work on Baby. It was nice to get cozy on a couch for once, even though you were still reading about monsters, it felt somewhat normal being able to stay at a house again.

You liked Bobby’s sass, and you could certainly see where the boys got it from. Sam had opened up to you more about his and Dean’s childhood the night before. About how they grew up on the road with John, losing their mom, a little bit of everything. Sam told you about Stanford and Dean coming to get him, basically how it all started.

And so, in exchange, you told him about your childhood. About Quinn, about everything.

You weren’t so different from the Winchesters after all.

You’d heard crazy stories about those two, wreaking havoc on the world and getting involved with too much. But after hearing the story from Sam, you realized they weren’t bad guys at all. They were heroes.

You trusted them now. Both Sam, and Dean.

100%.

***

Later that afternoon, you decided to take a beer out to Dean. Sam wasn’t going to stop you, nor was Bobby. Dean had been outside all morning. He hadn’t come in for anything, and you knew he had to be parched by now. It was a nice day outside, the air cold, but not too cold, and the sun provided a soothing warmth.

“Hey.” You said, walking up to the garage. Dean had the hood popped up and was messing around with the engine. Man, he had a nice-

“Oh, hey!” He replied, straightening his posture and turning to face you. You quickly looked up.

“I brought you a beer, I figured you’d need one by now.”

“Thanks,” He smiled as you handed him the drink, “I definitely need it.”

You took a sip of your own as he worked his bottle open, and you walked up closer to observe what was underneath Baby’s hood.

“Wow, she’s even prettier on the inside.” You breathed, naming off a few names of parts and such.

Dean was shocked that you knew so much about cars. “Where’d you learn all that?”

“My sister taught me. That truck was her baby, and then it was mine, until I was an idiot and screwed it up.” You took a deep breath. “But hey, we’ve all gotta move on sometime, right?”

“Yeah. I guess so.” Dean replied.

You turned and leaned against the grill next to him. “So, how many conversations have you and Sam had just on the hood of her?”

Dean laughed, “I don’t think I could give you a number, sweetheart .”

The nickname didn’t bother you this time. It only made you smile.

You let your flirty nature drop and you decided to get down to it. You needed to clear things up about yesterday, when you asked Dean if he meant it when he said he loved you in the woods that day.

“So, about what I said yesterday-- I didn’t mean to pry, and I get why you said what you said because I was losing my mind and you were just trying to calm me down and-”

Before you could even register what was going on, you felt his fingers gently turning your chin to face him. He didn’t waste anytime before leaning in and practically smashing his lips against yours. At first you accepted it, but then that small part of you came roaring to life that said Dean was a threat. Your breathing became heavy and you quickly pulled away.

“Y/N,” He began. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t ha-”

You cut him off this time, lunging back into his embrace and kissing him. His hands quickly found the small of your back and pulled you up against him. Your fingers quickly found his hair, and you let yourself get lost in him.

That voice was still there, telling you to run away, that it wasn’t right, that he was the one who hurt you.

You quickly shooed it away, and you only focused on how good it felt. How right to be in his arms, how at home.

He walked you back until your backside rested up against Baby’s grill. He moved his hands to rest on your waist. The world seemed to stop as you absorbed everything that there was to about Dean. The feel of his lips and tongue against yours, his breathing, his scent, how his stubble tickled your face, everything.

Eventually you both found the strength to pull away. He looked even hotter with red, swollen lips from kissing, if that was possible.

“Y/N, I-”

“Sh. I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

The alcohol burned as it slid down your throat. Although, it was only a mere pinch compared to the pain you had once felt. The pain you didn’t feel anymore. Although it would still always haunt you, that dark time when you hit rock bottom.

“Another one, ma’am?” The bartender asked. He was a rather attractive, younger guy.

You felt an arm wrap around you shoulders. “We’ll just have the check, thanks.” Dean said, basically scaring him off.

Time had flown by. You’d been with Sam and Dean for quite a few years now and you couldn’t imagine life without them.

At first life was still on the road 24/7, from motel to motel, an occasional stay at Bobby’s house. But everything changed when the Bunker came into your lives.

You had a place to call home, a safe place, warded against everything. It was huge, a hunter’s mansion. It was wonderful.

Dean took it slow with you. He respected your need for distance from him, and he didn’t want to dare do anything that made you uncomfortable. Late at night when the boys stayed up researching and you went to bed Dean would always walk by and crack your door open, check and make sure you were sleeping soundly.

Whenever you stayed back for a hunt, usually because you didn’t feel well or Dean insisted that you stay behind, he always called you every night. He would text you throughout the day with updates about how the hunt was going, but he would call at night. He needed to hear your voice by then.

After a while, Dean noticed that items of his clothing would be missing. A few shirts, some boxers, pairs of his sweatpants, a little bit of everything. That caper was soon solved when you came out to breakfast one morning in his old Metallica shirt and flannel boxers. You liked wearing Dean’s clothes. They were so comfortable and made you feel surrounded by him. It helped you sleep, and dream for that matter.

Not long after that, you and Dean started sharing a bed regularly. You basically just moved into his room. You even shared the bathroom across the hall with him. You loved cuddling with Dean at night. As much of a cuddler he confessed not to be, you’d always wake up with his arm draped across you, his body close to yours and his beautiful face resting in the crook of your neck. You’d usually fall asleep with your head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and tracing circles on his skin.

It didn’t take long for your relationship to develop even further after that. Dean made sure that your first time together in bed was more than memorable. It was nothing but pure love making, pure worshipping of each other that went so much farther than just the physical. Soon after you were having quickies in the kitchen while Sam was out grabbing breakfast, or Dean would just hop in the shower with you when you weren’t expecting him. When you were all traveling, you and Dean would sneak out to the Impala and fog up the windows until you couldn’t see out of them.

Dean would always worship you in the bedroom. He took his time to make sure you know that he loved you. Sometimes when you’d take control of the situation, or be the one who got it started, Dean would gape at you like you were the only thing he needed. His eyes would be lust blown, his lips slightly parted and his entire being just longing for you. You liked to call that his “desperately turned on” look, and you couldn’t get enough of it.

His nicknames for you also drove you crazy, in the good way. It was hot when he called you “princess” or “sweetheart” just in general, but when he outright moaned those, and your actual name included, you were toast.

One thing that Dean always did that you loved was his use of cheesy pickup lines. Whether he just wanted to make you smile or honestly ask you a question, his jokes never failed to make you laugh. Your favorites were when he wanted to have sex, but couldn’t bring himself to downright ask you. So, he’d use pickup lines instead.

“Why do research when you can do me?”

“ If I flip this coin, what are the chances of me getting head tonight?”

“That’s not the only thing you’ll be choking on tonight.”

“I’d like to stay up all night doing you on the library table, but we’ve got work to do.”

“I’d sell my soul (again) for just one more night with you.”

“If your right thigh is Christmas and your left thigh is Thanksgiving, can I visit in between the holidays?”

“This pie isn’t the only thing I’ll be eating out tonight.”

Something else that Dean did that turned you immensely was whenever he stuck up for you, bragged about you, or just even talked about you.

“ Out of all the crap we face, my girl never screams. She doesn’t cry, yell and run away. She’s one of the best damn hunters I’ve ever seen. My girl only screams my name, nice and loud, in the bedroom.”

“That’s my girl.”

“My baby doesn’t take any crap. Especially none of yours.”

Your favorite was whenever a girl would try and hit him up. You’d stand a little closer to him, wrap an arm around his, and he’d kiss you on the forehead. You loved the looks you’d get from other girls. It made you feel powerful, knowing that Dean was all yours.

Whenever mentions of your sex life surfaced around Sam, he would either voice his discomfort or just get up and leave.

“Guys, c’mon, we’re in public. Get it together.”

“I don’t need details, thanks.”

“No, that’s okay. I heard enough of it last night.”

“You guys are like bunny rabbits. No, correction, you’re worse than bunny rabbits.”

“Is that even safe?”

“Just, use protection, please.”

Whenever you stumbled around the bunker, a pain between your legs from previous activities, Sam would always look confused and ask you what was wrong. But then it would hit him and he realized why you were walking funny.

“Um, actually, I don’t want to know. Just, let me know if you need any advil, or, something.”

As much as Sam hated to have to live with you and Dean and your sexual activeness, it brought him joy to see his brother so happy. It made him happy to see you getting your old life back, too.

The phrase “I love you” became very common between the both of you, not just in the bedroom, either. Maybe it was after a simple kiss in the morning, or after a deep conversation in the darkness of the bedroom.

Every time you went hunting together Dean would always tell you that he loved you whenever he got the chance, because he was always afraid it might be the last time he’d get to to say it to you.

Sometimes hunting went well, other times it was like something from a nightmare. When was it not? There were many times when you or Dean pulled each other out of the fire just in time, making you extremely grateful for each other. And then there were other times, when you would let your emotions control your actions a little too much. If you were angry, or upset with yourself, you’d hunt recklessly. A small part of you hoped that you wouldn’t make it out alive. Whenever Dean sensed this, he’d get upset with you after the hunt.

“What is wrong with you?” Dean began, his voice low but the anger seething through his words..

“What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re being reckless again! You almost let yourself die in there in there and I won’t have it!”

“Why not? This job is dangerous! Any day could be my last and I’m dealing with it! You told me that, Dean!”

“That doesn’t give you an excuse to try and get yourself killed!”

“What does it matter to you?!” You could tell that hurt him. You wanted to take it back, but it was too late.

You were in each other’s faces now, the tension practically filling up the entire room.

“Because I-”

“Because you love me, I know. But sometimes I can’t help but wonder, are you protecting me for me? Or are you protecting me for you?”

It was always right after the anger of the arguments had peaked when Dean would slam you against a wall and just ravish you. You’d finish the argument in between gasps and moans every single time. It would end in an apology, and then a long conversation about how you both felt would follow after. And of course, “I love you” would be exchanged more than enough times during the entire process.

Sometimes, you’d start the arguments when Dean was the one being reckless. You’d take turns.

When it came to injuries, you would both patch each other up. There had been a couple cases where Dean had to help you in the shower, not in a sexual way, either (for once). He’d simply shampoo your hair, running his fingers delicately through your locks, and help you wash your body when your injuries wouldn’t let you do so.

There were multiple days of the year that you loved most. One of those was Christmas, along with Dean’s birthday, your birthday, Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, and part of you even liked Halloween.

Christmas with the Winchesters was like something out of a dream. Now that you all had the bunker, you got a real tree. You decorated a little, baked cookies on Christmas Eve and got gifts for each other. Castiel usually came by on Christmas Day, and you would cook a big dinner. It was wonderful. You felt like you were in a family again.

The next holiday that rolled up was Dean’s birthday on January 24th. You loved his birthday more than yours for multiple reasons: 1, You had a good reason to shower him with affection all day without him getting huffy about it. 2,  Shopping with Sam to find Dean a present was always fun. For Christmas and for his birthday. It gave you some quality time with your wing man. 3, You got to bake more pie than usual. You didn’t like cooking too much, but you had to make Dean pie on his birthday. It was ritual. And 4, the birthday sex.

Your birthday was always fun, too. Dean showered you with affection constantly anyways, but there was something about the atmosphere on your birthday that made it all different. You didn’t have to lift a finger that day, and Dean made sure of it. The boys always got you wonderful gifts and got you a cake. And of course, Dean returned the favor you gave him in the bedroom.

Valentine’s Day was always interesting. Even though he knew how much you despised the holiday, Dean still awkwardly handed you a bouquet of roses every year on the 14th of February. What was once Dean’s “Unattached Drifter Christmas” was now just another day that he dedicated to loving you and making sure you knew how much he loved you.

July 4th was always a good time. It was scorching hot by then, and one year the air conditioning died in the bunker on the hottest day of the year. Dean worked on the system for hours on end, Sam running out to get food and parts now and again. That was the first time you ever saw Sam going out with only one layer on. After Dean got the air running again, night had fallen. You heard fireworks going off outside, and you all sat on the grass and watched under the stars.

Halloween used to be one of your favorite holidays. Hunting ruined it for you, only because everyday was Halloween for you. It just made the holiday less fun. However, the start of the fall season still got you excited. No matter how hard you tried, taking a day off on Halloween was almost impossible. Something more than just a ghost or a ghoul would pop up, something much bigger and more threatening. So, off you and the boys went.

Thanksgiving was interesting. It was one of the first times you and Sam and Dean had ever cooked Thanksgiving dinner, and your first Thanksgiving with the boys was the first time any of you had cooked in ages. Dean “helping” wasn’t much, he just kept eating everything and getting in the way. Sam was trying, key word trying, and you were doing the same. By the end of the day, the kitchen was a mess. Most of the food was half eaten or burnt. You were all exhausted. You went out for Thanksgiving that year.

It felt good to be able to enjoy holidays again.

Living in the bunker also called for chores. Laundry, dusting, vacuuming, and occasionally dishes. You did laundry most of the time, only because it drove you crazy when you ran out of clothes to wear. Sam did his laundry on the most regular basis out if the three of you. Dean rarely did his laundry, you would end up doing his with yours since you wore so many of his clothes. Sometimes when you were doing the laundry, Dean would just watch you. He would gaze at you lovingly while you simply folded clothes or threw things in the machine. His eyes always traveled downwards when you bent over to throw something in the dryer.

When you had your hair pulled back because it was dirty, when you hadn’t showered in a day or two, when you had sweatpants and baggy shirts on, that was when Dean called you beautiful.

You bent over to throw yet another handful of darks into the dryer. You knew Dean was watching from the doorway, he was never discreet about popping up behind you.

“Y’know, a little help would be nice.” You said, turning to face him.

“Oh, me? I’m just observing.”

“Uh huh, sure you are.”

You returned to your business when the words fell off of his lips.

“You are gorgeous, princess.”

A blush found its way to your cheeks. He walked up behind you and turned you towards him. “D’you hear me?”

“Mhmm. Thanks, hot stuff.”

“Don’t go all soft on me now.” He teased. “You’re gushing like a teenager.”

“Am I?” You overdramatized your voice, taking your lower lip between your teeth.

“Oh honey,” He practically moaned. “You know I can’t handle the lip.”

“You’re being awful bossy today, mister.” You said, draping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair.

“And you’re being extra sweet, sweetheart.”

“Does this mean I’ll get my reward later?”

“Later? I was thinking about giving it to you right now.” He smiled, kissing you passionately.

As much as you dreamt they were, not every day was as fluff-filled as that one. Some days, Dean would avoid you. He would still give you a kiss in the morning but his love for you wouldn’t be showing like usual. It wouldn’t be showing at all.

“What’s wrong with you today? You’re not acting like yourself.”

“Nothing, princess, I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you.” You rested your hand on his thigh, something that normally drove him crazy, and he simply took your hand in his and placed your palm back on your own lap.

“Seriously? That right there proves that something is wrong.”

“What?”

“You love it when I touch your thighs.” You winked and chuckled, but he barely cracked a smile.

“Yeah, just not today, okay?”

You exhaled. “I’m not trying to bother you. I’m only asking because I care.”

“I know. But you wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Dean took a moment to get his thoughts together. “I’m not gonna sugar coat it, because that’s not fair to you. Y/N, you don’t deserve me. Not after what I did to you, let alone to other people. I’m a monster.”

“Dean, we’ve talked about this. You deserve this. You deserve whatever it is that makes you happy.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do! Please don’t sit here and call yourself worthless because you’re not! I know that you can’t fix that feeling just by thinking about. Believe me, I know, but please, just try and remotely give yourself a little credit. You’ve saved the world, Dean! More than once! How can you not give yourself credit for that?”

“I couldn’t have done any of that without Sam!”

“And he couldn’t have done any of that without you!”

Dean fell silent. He knew you were right, and deep down, the entire time, he knew he was wrong. But the weight was too heavy, he just couldn’t admit it that easily.

When Dean would finally crack, he’d always apologize and be even harder on himself for disappointing you. You’d just kiss his perfect lips, wipe away his tears, and tell him everything was going to be okay.

It was moments like this, when Dean let his guard down and got all “touchy feely”, that you found the opportunity to hum the tune of “Hey Jude” to comfort Dean. He would always stiffen up at first, remembering how Mary would hum him to sleep, but then he would relax into you and just listen. Half the time, he would fall asleep on your chest. You never complained.

It was only fair that if you called Dean out on his crap, he would call you out on yours. If you ever tried to isolate yourself, or express that you felt worthless, Dean would shush you and make you change your mind immediately. Of course, he would always let you vent about how you felt before doing so.

Sometimes, you’d wake up in the middle of a night in a cold sweat. Visions of Hell flashed across the room as you tried to your bearings. Dean would be at your side, trying to calm you, but seeing his green eyes would only make it worse.

“Stay away from me!”

You’d scream, run out of the room. The commotion would always wake Sam, who would find you panting and crying in the corner of the kitchen, or sometimes the library.

“Y/N,” Sam began. “Look at me, it’s alright-”

“No! Leave me alone!”

Sam would keep his distance and let you breathe, until you eventually got your bearings and realized it was just a dream. Dean would always watch from the doorway in the shadows, broken to see you so upset.

Each time this happened, another part of Dean’s heart would break.

With time, you both got better. You both had less and less days where you woke feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. It got easier to get up in the morning, and fall asleep at night. Things got better.

After everything: losing Quinn, going to Hell, coming back, you were still alive. Sure, your life was a still a living nightmare. You had years of felonies on your shoulders, monsters lurking in every corner that could kill you in seconds. But now, you had people you could live your life with. People that you loved, that you could call family.

The heartbreak was all part of the job. The loss, the pain, the hurt. And no matter how rough it got, how low you sank, you still couldn’t quit. That wouldn’t be the right thing to do. There were people that needed your help, creatures that needed to be stopped. Quitting was never an option, even from the start.

At the end of the day, the pain was all worth it. Sometimes you weren’t sure how, but it always was. Every single time.

“Sweetheart, you ready to go?” Dean asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You were still sitting at the bar, fingers dancing on the brim of the empty glass in front of you.

“Um, yeah, sure thing.” You smiled.

“Alright, Sam’s already in the car so I’ll meet you there, okay? I gotta use the little boy’s room.”

You chuckled. “Okay, don’t drown.”

“I’ll try not to.”

You slid off the barstool and made you way out to the Impala, sliding in the backseat. “So, where are we off to now?”

“Home.” Sam sighed.

“Oh thank God.” You smiled. “I cannot take another night without my bed.”

“You mean our bed.” Dean said as he slid into the driver’s seat.

“Whatever.” You smirked.

Dean looked back at you and smiled, winking after. “Alright you two, let’s get outta here.”

Baby’s engine roared to life, and you took off down the road. It was just you and the Winchesters against the world.

You and Dean against the world.

And that was all that mattered.