eyes-of-fanfiction-green

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

At This Crossroads We Stand

Summary: Dean dreams of a crossroads.

A/N This is a sort of metaphorical prose. I know I haven’t written a lot lately, but it was 2am and I suddenly felt inspired so I apologize in advance. I’m graduating college soon and I feel like my life is a mess, so yeah, this is my method of processing.

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He's standing at a crossroads. The night is dark and the moon is howling. The yearning in his chest won't ease and every one of the four directions pull him in and yet pushes him out.

He's standing at a crossroads. The moon seems to glare down at him, its looming iridescence taunts him with dreams and possibilities. It pulls his eyes towards the beautiful light it glows, while distracting him of The eerie shadows it casts about his feet. The moon seems so far away, so it most be good.

Because all things that are out of reach are things that should be reached for. Right?

He glances away from the moon for a moment, his gaze realizing the darkness he stands in. The parts the moon cannot touch, no matter how brilliant and full it hangs among the stars. He stares at the shadows creeping across the four roads and the weaving dance it sways with the grass. The grass was green this morning, but now all he sees is grays and shadows, if shadows are a color of their own. The green is gone now.

It cannot be seen therefore it must no longer be there. Right?

He is standing at a crossroads. His feet shift uneasily into the dirt and rocks underneath his tread. Solid ground. He stands on solid ground. But what good is solid ground if it does not move? What good is that which takes you nowhere? The dirt stretches in four directions. North. South. East. West. But where they lead he cannot see, the darkness swallows them whole. The shadows dance over them until they consume and the moon offers no comfort to illuminating what is far away.

Because nothing is lit that is not right before your eyes. Right?

He is standing at a crossroads.

And he is alone.

Or he was alone. Is he still alone? Was he ever alone?

Because the wind carries a voice to his ears and it sounds like the gravel beneath his feet. It sounds rough, but it warms his heart, and why would something as sharp as gravel do that? The grating voice deepens with pain, it lightens with love, it soars not into his ears but his soul. And he looks to the South and there is the voice.

For every voice comes from somewhere. Right?

The gravel has wings and its shadow is as tall as the Chrysler building. It calls to his heart and pulls his feet to the South. The darkness remains, but now twin blues are his beacons.

But as his third step is taken, another voice comes. It lacks any gravel, but it brings warmth to his mind. A sound so familiar he could follow in the dark, he could follow in the shadows, he could follow in the moonlight. The voice comes from the East and it's taller than it used to be, but it never really matters. Nothing ever changes with the voice from the East, no matter how far to the West he ran in the past.

Because the past always passes. Right?

He's standing at a crossroads. He's torn, his feet freeze. South or East? South or East? or...West?

An old voice comes from the West. A voice older than the East and more commanding than the South. The West chills his bones and he dares not look. He knows what the West will say and he does not want to hear it. He wants to hear his own voice, but he can't hear it above the chatter and the moon and the shadows and the dirt and the pebbles in his shoes. He wants the West to go away, but still he knows the West can sway him more then the South or East combined. He hates it and he loves it and he asks the West to stay.

Three roads in opposite directions. Three yelling at him now. They each know the way and their voices clash like an un-tuned orchestra. Rasping, yelling, his ears are bleeding. His feet shuffle back and forth and back and forth. They stumble and pull, and his feet do not listen to their master. They listen to the voices, growing louder and harsher and they pull back and forth and back and forth.

And...

Three roads...

Three...

And then there's a fourth. The voice of the North is not loud, it is quiet. It does not stand tall and it does not cast a shadow of its own. It comes to him like a whisper. Like a cloud covering over his ears. It blends with the other voices and gives a small tug at his heart. Tugging it to the North. But it doesn't pull. It just whispers.

He doesn't know this voice.

He doesn't think he could ever know this voice.

This voice has no substance, but bears over all. A void that whispers, that tugs, that waits. It waits, and it grows. But not when you're watching. The voice has no form, and the voice has no owner. But suddenly the South and the East and the West are in harmony. They beg him to not listen to the North. The North is tricky and it spins a tall tale, of promises and hopes, and most of which will fail. But the North hums, and it latches to his heart... what could be, what might be, what if...what if he just moves and his feet follow North?

The harmony is lost, and the whisper roars its head, and he collapses to the ground clutching his ears and screaming for them to stop. He's screaming, he is. Or at least he thinks so. But he can't hear his voice, because the voices of the South and the East and the West and the North, they ring in his head. Louder. Louder. Faster. Faster. He can't breathe, he can't move. But he's gasping, he's trying. But where is his voice?

And now there's a clock.

It quickly stutters across the moon, covering up the moonlight. And chaos grows and the ticking rings, not around him, but within him. And it grows and it grows. And he can't breathe, and he's gasping, he's rasping. His lungs are tight and the voices are like thunder. They rage wars in his head. He prays for peace and nothing comes clear. Just the clock, and the voices, and the shadows, and the darkness, and the dirt, and the pebbles beneath his feet.

And he opens his eyes.

And he breathes.

He is standing at a crossroads.

There are four roads. One to the South, one to North, one to the East, and one to the West.

He breathes.

The moon still shines. It never went away.

Now he hears a sound. It is soft, but it is clear. It rings like crystal and a fine violin. The dance of a bow across delicate strings. It does not come from the roads. It does not come from the moon. Or the shadows, or the darkness, or the dirt, or the pebbles in his shoes. It comes from him. And it is pure.

His feet move.

He takes a step.

................................................

Dean's eyes flicked open with a start. His vision clouding then clearing before he sees his bedroom ceiling, it's fan gliding round and round, a perfect loop.

"Dean?"

He looked over at Cas and let a small smile play on his lips. "It's alright Cas, go back to sleep. Just dreaming."

He rolls to his side. Eyes closing and body warming.

"What did you dream of?"

"....Just life."

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

NEW FAN EDIT YOUTUBE CHANNEL

Okay so, I know this account is for supernatural stuff [AND I AM STILL WORKING ON THE FIND ME AU, pls don’t hurt me] but if you’re also interested in Good Omens, I just started a YouTube Channel for GO edits:

https://youtu.be/C3sBECKAsgE

And it will have Supernatural edits and ships on it as well, later on (getting all that spn footage is a long process)

THANK YOU GUYS!

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

They Don’t Tell You About the Hard Things

Prostitute!Reader and Prostitute!Dean (Stanford Era)

MASTERPOST

Summary: Reader is a prostitute who has a brief encounter with a green-eyed young man while both are working on the street, and during their conversation she gets just a glimmer of what's underneath his mask. ....OR What Dean really did to help support Sam while in Stanford, and how that effected him. (So Dean is still a hunter, this is about his “side job” when he was younger.)

Warnings: Prostitution (NO UNDERAGE)There is nothing explicit, however this is rated Mature because of the topic of conversation. Also angst. This is angsty, but it has a nice ending. NO smut.

A/N: So, I posted this on my AO3 account a few weeks back, but I was curious what you guys thought so... here ya go. FYI this is my idea of a storyline that would be canon with spn, and it’s a little calmer paced, so just sit back, relax, and enjoy this little insight into Dean’s past.

God, you hated this place.

This grimy little strip of cracked, concrete sidewalk. The weeds growing through the pavement seemed to be the only living things in this god-forsaken part of town. Even the garbage-digging racoons were giving off an aroma of impending death and decay.

You wrinkled your nose as the wind shifted and the wafting smell of decomposing pasta leftovers and unwashed meth-heads came drifting over from the alleyway a couple dozen feet down the street.

What a lovely city Chicago was.

You kicked at some junkie’s abandoned heroine needle at your feet and let out a puff of breath, the freezing temperatures visually showing you that, yes, you were indeed still alive. Somehow…. Unfortunately. Oh well.

It was a typical Tuesday night.

Well, typical for you.

Business was slow. The streets were abandoned except for a couple gang members making a drug exchange up the road, huddled conspicuously together.There was a young touristy couple, clearly lost, who were speed-walking as quickly through the area as possible, clutching their purse and wallet tight.

The only other action was the four or five sleazy bars that doted the shady street.

And that’s why you were here.

A lot of times, you could pick up patrons leaving the bars. Too plastered to be making wise decisions, and pockets full of money that didn’t manage to make it to the bartender’s grasp. A portion of your earnings would come from the locals who were familiar about this solicitation corner and would drive by and pick one of you up like crap fast food at a Wendy’s.

Classy.

You glanced over at the five or six other “colleagues” who were pulling thin jackets close and shuffling against the biting wind. The Huddle of Shame. That’s certainly what it felt like. Bunch of low-life rejects, the lot of you.

An hour later and things started to pick up a little. A couple of the other workers came and went and came back again. Ten minutes ago, you’d sucked off a middle-aged dad with a beer belly and way too much hair down south to be normal. But you had an extra thirty dollars in your possession, so that was something.

Whenever you started doubting your motives or choices in life, you’d rub your toes against the bulge of cash you stowed afterward in your shoe. A reminder. There was a reason you were here. Every one of the workers had a reason.

………………..

Around eleven o’clock you noticed a young man you didn’t recognize, come stand near your group. At first you’d thought he was a customer, he looked almost too clean to be one of you. But his eyes were trained on the open street and on the people exiting and entering the bars, barely acknowledging you except for a small smile and nod of the head.

Huh.

You gave him a discreet once-over, momentarily distracted from your scouting. He looked early twenties, tall, with a slightly too-lean build, but the promise of broad shoulders in a few years.

His face looked bruised, and his knuckles scabbed over. He was wearing only a t-shirt and flannel as though he had purposely refused to bring his jacket with him. You wondered if it was because of a personal attachment. You knew a couple people who had only their mom’s shoes or their brother’s scarf and had gone without the items altogether while “working”, so that their family member’s memory wouldn’t be soiled by what they were about to do.

He seemed nice.

Not sketchy or slimy like some of the other people working the street that you knew. Genuinely nice. You didn’t know what it was about him that struck you like that but…

What the hell.

You were bored.

It was a Tuesday.

��Hey.”

The young man turned to look at you, bright green eyes flashing slight surprise. His lips curved into a tired smile and he dug his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders slightly. “Hi.”

You offered a small grin in return at his awkwardness, but felt a shiver rack your body as another gust of wind swept over you. The air biting into your sore throat. A nasty cough making its hourly appearance.

“Damn, it really is cold here. Do you want my flannel?”

You glance up to see Green Eyes quickly removing his long-sleeve flannel to give to you. The cold instantly turned his bare arms red and goosebumps rose on his skin.

“Oh! No! No no no. I’m okay. Th-thank you. But I already got more layers than you do dude, you need what you got.” He hesitated a moment before nodding and pulling the piece of clothing back on.

“Our lives are fucked up. Aren’t they?” You asked abruptly.

The boy tilted his chin slightly, blinking his eyes slowly. The poor guy looked like he hadn’t slept in days, the dark circles under his eyes were like purple stains contrasting against the translucence of his skin.

“Why do you say that?”

A laugh choked in your throat at the serious look of confusion on his face. “I…um… how can you not say that? Look where we are, pretty boy. Look what we’re doing.”

He shrugged.

“I try not to think about it.” He wrapped his arms around himself and let his head fall back, eyes searching the stars. “I think about my little brother. He’s in college.” The pride was filling his words with notes of long-lost joy and hope. “He’s going to be a lawyer someday. With their fancy suits and heavy law books. The Brainiac will fit right in…” He seemed to catch himself at the flood of information that threatened to spill from his lips, as though he was so desperate to just tell someone something of substance about his life and what really mattered in it.

You swallowed thickly, your bad mood giving way to longing and deeper thoughts. “I have two little sisters. The younger one won a children’s art contest last week. I have high hopes for a future Van Gogh in the family.” You cracked a grin and ducked your head at the thought.

“Little siblings. Am I right? Wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

“Isn’t that the truth. I’d do anything for them.” You sighed and shoved your hands into your pockets. “Even suck off a stranger so they can have school uniforms…”

“Or get fucked in the ass so they’ll discover they’ve got an extra ‘scholarship’ by ‘accident’ again...” The young man murmured under his breath, exhaling his exhaustion in a puff of frosted air.

“Mmmm. Do you ever wish it was different? Your life?”

“Everyday.”

The weight of the single word seemed to seep into your bones for a moment.

You licked you lips unconsciously. The taste of dried semen and sweat from your earlier client made itself known to your senses. You were pretty sure there was still a little bit of crusted cum that had dripped down from your mouth. Hard-assed bastard hadn't worn a condom. You just had to pray he hadn't been dripping STDs into your mouth. God... what you wouldn't give to never have another strange trucker's cum in you ever again... so hell yeah... you wished your life was different.

You both were startled from your thoughts as you caught sight of a john walking your way, a slight swagger in his step portraying his inebriated state. He stumbled over a sleeping homeless man, stretched out on his cardboard bed, and continued in your direction. “Any bets on which of us he’ll go for?” You whispered near Green Eyes' ear, a playful lilt falling into your voice.

His lips twitched, “I don’t like my chances, I’m voting for you.”

“Oh, come on. Now you got to be all humble and stuff in addition to that self-sacrificing?? Ugh, fine. I think he’ll pick you.”

His green eyes twinkled with humor. “Well. Aren’t you kind.”

The john swayed closer to you two, the smell of stale beer drifting out of his pores, threatening to gag the both of you. The man walked right past you both, completely ignoring the two of you entirely, and approached a lady in a leopard print coat a few feet away.

You and Green Eyes silently watched as he led the lady over to his car and drove off, then simultaneously busted out into hard laughter. Your laughing didn’t stop as the ridiculousness of the situation settled in. The relief at not getting picked and not having to lose another piece of your soul just then, mixed with disappointment at losing an opportunity to make money.

As the laughter died down, you glanced over to see tears spring to the boy’s eyes unbiddenly. His laughing became slightly choked and you could almost visibly see the pain he was feeling. You could tell that he had done prostitution before, that wasn’t the problem. The way he held himself and showed off his good side to passing, possible customers was definite proof of his many years of experience in this area. But you knew yourself that that didn’t make it any easier.

He took a moment to gather himself, growing very quiet as you patiently stood next to him. Finally, a few minutes later, his hoarse voice drifted quietly to your ear.

“I’m so tired…”

Three little words. With just three little words you felt as though the young man had told you his life story.

You didn’t know where he was born. You didn’t know where he grew up. Or when he had his first kiss. Or his first crush.

You didn’t know if his father was an alcoholic. Or if his mother was even still alive. You didn’t know if he was homeless or lived in town. You didn’t know if he had ever been abused. Ever been rejected by his family. Ever felt unloved.

You didn’t even know his name.

But in those three words you knew everything that mattered.

You could hear the exhaustion, dripping off the words. The slight slur that comes only from severe lack of sleep. The small pitch in the last word, betraying his voice, showing you just how close he was to breaking. The despair that drenched over the phrase in a way of acceptance that nothing will ever get better in his life. And the lack of emotion that only can be expressed by someone who has been abandoned by the ones he loves.

Those three words were a confession not meant for mortal ears.

And you felt your heart break.

Looking back, you were never quite sure what came over you in those next moments. Why you suddenly felt the need to tell this almost complete stranger things that were so... personal. And a bit sappy... if you were being honest. But you did. And in all truthfulness... afterward, you didn't regret a word.

“You know… I’ve always had a love for superheroes.”

He looked over at you strangely, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes, embarrassed. “Wh-What?”

“My favorite… was Batman. And I know that’s super cliché, or whatever. But he has a special place in my heart. Because, even though he’s super rich and has all these gadgets… that’s not what makes him who he is. He was someone who took the pain of his past and used it to drive himself forward and try to make a difference in other people’s lives and save people. He didn’t let his traumas consume him.” You looked over at the boy and quirked up a soft smile.

“You know what? Out of all those “normal” people out there... I think you would be the one of the ones to become a Batman. You would be the one who never got defeated by life, no matter how many times it knocked you off your feet. You’ll get back up every time. And you’ll make a difference.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing multiple times before a cracked and pitched, “Thank You.” Escaped his mouth.

A few minutes later another john came up and led the young man away to his car, paying up-front for the whole night with him. You had a feeling you’d never see him after that night, and you were right.

But just as he was leaving, he quickly turned back and pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering softly in your ear, almost as if he was making a promise to himself:

“I’m Batman.”

”Yes, you are.”

And as you watched him walk away, you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, as though you had just inspired the world’s future hero to keep fighting.

And it felt good.

THE END

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@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Find Me (Part 3)

Cop!dean x Kidnapped!Reader

!!PART 1 here

!!PART 2 here

MASTERLIST

Summary: Reader is Kidnapped by a serial killer, knowing she only has a week before he kills her too. Can Dean, a cop on her case, get to her in time? Or will he end up with trouble of his own?

Warning: a little creepy

A/N: Yay! Next part up! Thank you to everyone for reading!

Dean ran his fingers through his hair for the hundredth time, tugging on the ends in frustration. After he had returned to the station and showed Detective Hendrickson the note, the station had been in a constant tizzy.

He was under 24/7 security protection and it was doing nothing to ease his nerves. He glanced up from his laptop to make eye-contact with his new bodyguard, sitting across the desk. Dean grimaced and dropped his gaze back to the report he was working on.

“Winchester. Come here.”

Dean looked over to see Hendrickson gesturing to him from across the room, two other officers standing at his side.

He sighed and dragged himself to his feet, tossing Benny, his bodyguard, a look of despair before heading over to his boss.

“Yes, sir?”

Hendrickson leaned back against the wall and nodded to his two compatriots. “Lieutenant Winchester, this is Sargent Milligan and Sargent Masters. They will be taking over your portion of the investigation.”

“Excuse me?!”

“You are relieved from this case, Winchester.”

“Sir-“

“It’s protocol Winchester, you are now personally involved…”

“But-“

“…and you are being categorized as a potential next victim. We need to find out why the killer is targeting you.”

“I agree sir, but…”

“No buts! This is my case, I am in charge here, do you understand?”

Dean lowered his eyes, his shoulders collapsing slightly as he released a puff of frustration. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Hendrickson turned to Masters and Milligan, “Take his statement and get then start going through his notes, figure out what he stumbled on that freaked our perp out. He may have found more than just a footprint without knowing it.”

Dean scrunched his face in displeasure at someone else going through his notes.

This sucked ass.

---------------------------------------

You rolled your shoulders one more time, trying your best to stretch out the stiff and painful tension that was building there. Who knew being kidnapped could be so tedious?

You hadn’t seen your captor for hours though.

Thank goodness.

That man was really giving you the creeps. More so than from just being a kidnapping murderer, that is. “Blek.” You started rolling your neck, working on loosing that portion of your body. Anything really, to help distract from the bloodied and infected wrists that were scraping against the rough metal cuffs.

You wondered how long this would last.

Your courage.

Your sarcastic defenses.

The idea of losing your cool and becoming hysterical was terrifying. No one could bring any control to a situation if they were too freaked-out to think straight.

You swallowed back a bit of bile at the thought of being at this man’s complete mercy.

No.

You were fine.

You weren’t going to panic.

You felt a flutter of fear build in your chest, but you mentally shoved it down and forced yourself to breathe.

You’re fine.

You are fine.

You are probably going to die soon… but you are fine.

----------------------------

Dean nestled his nose into Indie’s fur, breathing in her soft and grassy scent, before glaring over at Benny who was lounging in Dean’s armchair, reading a book.

“How long am I on lock-down here?”

Benny didn’t even look up, “As long as necessary.” he muttered, flipping a page.

“Wonderful.” Dean buried his head back into Indie’s side, curling into the small, warm body on his couch, taking what comfort he could from his fury best friend.

“You really like to whine a lot, don’t you?”

Dean’s muffled grumble of a response barely reached Benny’s ears, “What I’d ‘like’, is to work on this very important case.”

The Louisiana native just scoffed. “Yeah, cause that’s a good idea.”

“Whatever.”

Dean sighed and sat up, giving Indie a parting scratch behind the ears, then headed for his kitchen. His moan reached Benny’s ears moments later as he looked through the fridge and pantry. “Bennyyyy, we don’t have any food.”

“And?”

“It’s dinnertime. It’s past dinnertime. What are you? Some kind of machine that doesn’t need sustenance?”

Benny sighed and stood up, stretching his back, “If I go get you food, will you shut up?”

“Yeah.”

Benny rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys, “Fine….Prissy…”

As the door slammed closed behind Benny, Dean instantly straightened, his eyes going alert. “Well, that was easy…” He muttered under his breath.

Immediately grabbing Indie’s harness and leash, he got Indie ready to go within seconds, only pausing for a moment to snatch his gun before the two of them slipped silently out the door.

-----------------------------------------

“Wakey wakey Sweetie.”

You jerked awaked, your eyes flying open as you felt fingers graze along your jawline.

“There she is.”

You gave yourself a second to pull on your brave face before lifting your eyes to his gaze. “Aha! We meet again. How wonderful.”

“Mmmm.” His thumb brushed lightly over your lips and you flinched. “I love the sarcasm…but I honestly don’t think it’ll last that long.”

You watched horrified as he unsheathed a knife from his belt, the blade glistening even in the non-existence lighting of the cellar, ominously promising pain to you.

“Y-you still have six more days. You can’t kill me yet…” You swallowed down the tremor in your voice, watching his eyes flash in amusement.

“I’m going to kill you yet.” His thumb grazed the sharp edge of the blade. “But I do need to send a message… I’m bored.”

The air suddenly felt frozen in your chest.

You watched him slowly slash a shallow gash in your side, your voice betraying your pain with a short scream.

The man just laughed and pull out what looked like a letter, out of his pocket, unfolding it with care.

Your mind was just static and there was black smudges growing in the corner of your vision. Then you felt him grab you hand, smear it against the blood pouring from your side, and press your bloodied palm unto the bottom corner of the paper.

Like a signature.

What the hell?

“Thank you dear.” He handed you a rag to stem the blood-flow, “This should make their heads start buzzing.” He whistled lightly, and left, closing the door with a thud behind him.

The blood was slowing, but the pain was searing aggressively in your side, growing monumentally as you pressed the rag against it.

“G’ahhh!” You gasped into the pain, closing your eyes against the rising nausea. “Not good. Not good…”

———————————————————————————

PART 4 Coming soon!

Comment below if you want to be added to my tag list for this fic!

@ihopeyousteponarosepetal @22sarah08 @cocklesbelli @chook007 @and-then-theres-anna @illisea

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

MASTERPOST

Eeeeeeeeek I have enough fics for a legit master post!!!

AO3 account for longer fics: here

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SHUTTING DOWN (series complete)

Dean x hunter!reader

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, blood and guts, depression, angst, bit of fluff

Summary: After a fight one night with the reader, Dean wakes up the next morning in another woman’s bed. Can the reader and Dean get through the trauma that follows?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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FIND ME (In Progress)

Cop!Dean x Kidnapped!Reader

Summary: Dean and his K-9 unit are helping investigate the murder and kidnapping spree that is going on. He never would have imagined the love and life-threatening danger that he would encounter along the way.

Warnings: Thriller

Part 1

Part 2

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FIGHT FOR US (Complete)

Firefighter!Dean x EMT!Cas

Warning: burns, fire

Summary: Dean and Cas are called in to a house fire. But nothing goes to plan and Cas’ worst nightmare is realized.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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CROSSROADS

Dean x Reader

Warnings: major character death, lots of angst

Summary: Dean has to make a choice

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PERIOD PROBLEMS

Dean x Readeer

Warnings: PMSing

Summary: The reader gets pissed off when she’s on her period, not weepy. And poor Dean has no idea what going on.

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PLEASE JUST HOLD ME/ IMAGINE SLEEPING WITH DEAN AT NIGHT (series complete)

Dean x reader

Warning: nightmares, fluff

Summary: (can be read separate) you and Dean help each other get through the hard nights.

Part 1

Part 2

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DANCING IN THE MIRROR, SINGING IN THE SHOWER

Dean x Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut?(meh, implied)

Summary: After a long day of researching, all you really want is a hot shower…. but someone beat you to it.

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SO….DINNER?

Dean x wife! Reader

Warning: none

Summary: just a quickie comedy on how you and Dean balance hunting life with domestic life

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HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, DEAN WINCHESTER

Dean x Reader

Warning: fluff (but adventurous)

Summary: Dean shows the reader how to have a unique Valentine’s Day

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FIREFIGHTER RESCUE

Firefighter!Dean x reader

Warning: fire, burns

Summary: reader finds herself trapped in a burning building, can dean get her out in time?

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Find Me (Part 2)

Cop!Dean x kidnapped!Reader

!!PART 1 here!!

!! PART 3 here!!

MASTERLIST

Summary: Dean and his K9 Unit are helping with the investigation of the serial kidnappings and murders case. But this isn’t the typical case he was expecting, with love and life-threatening danger thrown at him along the way.

Warning: This has a thriller movie kind of vibe at some parts.

A/N: eep! I actually am like planning ahead the storyline on this one, yay!! I’m really excited about this story.

Dean quickly jogged through the entrance of the, now very much awake and bustling, station heading straight to Detective Hendrickson, who was huddled in the back corner talking with his group of people. He glanced over and caught Dean’s eye, waving him over urgently.

“Winchester, good. I’m glad you’re here. We’re on the clock again.” Hendrickson started rifling through the files in his hands, passing a few to Dean as he spoke. “New victim: [Y/F/N] [Y/L/N], physical description is in the file, reported missing this morning around 0600 when her friends noticed she wasn’t at her early morning shift at work and went to check on her. They said they reported it right away because of hearing about the past victims in the news. Victim was last seen being dropped off at her apartment the night before by her two cousins, they stated they were bar-hopping together until 1am last night. For now, we are categorizing her apartment as the crime scene and kidnapping location.”

Dean nodded critically as he took notes of the information.

“The address for the apartment is in that file,” Hendrickson continued, “I want you to head over there with your K9 unit and assist the investigation with the on-scene forensics team there. We need to know exactly what happened last night.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean took the last file grimly and headed right back out to his car, picking Indie up from the police kennels where he just dropped him off minutes before along the way.

He sat in the front seat for a moment, going over the rest of the information as quickly as possible. He knew it was important for him to get over there as fast as possible, but he also knew that he needed all the knowledge of this victim that he could get before going in.

His eyes swept speedily through the pages in front of him before faltering slightly at the sight of the victim’s picture.

She was lovely.

Her hair was silky, and her eyes were vibrant. She was laughing at the camera in the middle of what appeared to be someone’s party, her teeth were flashing into the most genuine smile and for a moment Dean almost felt himself smile back.

Gazing at her joyful face, Dean felt a dull stab in his chest knowing that wherever she was now, she most definitely wasn’t smiling. She was probably terrified. And alone…

Dean huffed out a breath and piled the files in the passenger seat. He turned on Baby’s engine and looked back at Indie to give him a sad, little smile before tearing down the street towards the apartment.

-------------------

You shifted in your bonds, rolling your shoulders back to ease out the crick that was forming.

Welp. This wasn’t good.

You couldn’t really remember what happened last night, though the crusted blood at the back of your head was a tell-tale sign of why that was. You vaguely recalled getting home pretty tipsy from hanging out with your cousins.

You had gone into the kitchen to grab some water. You’d heard a noise…then nothing. It was blank.

The ropes were digging into your wrists as you tried to ease pressure off of the raw skin, but it was no use. You leaned your head back against the wall with a sigh.

You weren’t an idiot. You had heard about the other kidnappings-turned-murder and had a pretty good idea of what was going on. It may not be helping keep the panic in your chest at bay, but hey, at least you knew.

One good thing, or maybe not, was that your captor had taken off your blindfold the last time he had checked on you, he wore a mask, of course, but now you could take stock of your surroundings better.

The cellar-type room that you were currently being held hostage in was disgusting. The cobbled-stone floor was slimed over with mud, feces, and blood. Oh joy.

There was a little commune of rats huddling maliciously in the corner, you were actively ignoring those little buggers, but other than that you were alone.

Well… at least you were…

The metal door hinges screamed as your captor chose that moment to enter your “cell”.

“Oh! Fancy meeting you here!” You tried to quip, although the roughness and cracking in your voice probably wasn’t helping portray the false bravado.

“Don’t be snide sweetheart, it doesn’t suit you.”

You felt your head whip to the side as he slapped the crap out of your face. Damn, now your face was on fire.

“Need to make sure you’re nice and settled in before I go mingling about outside…”

There was a clanging sound as you felt him lock iron chains around your wrists and ankles, before cutting off the now unnecessary ropes.

He patted the side of your stinging face, and you caught a glint of maliciousness in his eyes peaking through the mask, “I’ll be back soon precious. Don’t worry.”

You felt a shiver crawl up your shiver as he walked out and locked the door behind him.

Escaping would be a really good idea right now…

--------------------

Dean ran a frustrated hand through his hair, tugging at the ends as he gave the apartment one last once-over.

They couldn’t find anything.

He and Indie had been working with the team there for hours and still nothing. There was no sign of forced entry. No sign of a struggle. Everything was clean and precise. Almost too clean.

Whoever they were dealing with was certainly clever, that much was obvious from the fact that they were on their fifth victim and still hadn’t gotten caught.

Dean huffed out his frustration, the image of the girl’s face flashing before his eyes. There had to be something here.

So, he kept looking.

An hour or so later, everyone had left and gone back to the station, but Dean just pursed his lips and kept looking. He scoured the living room, the kitchen, the bedr-

He stopped.

In the back corner of the carpet of the bedroom was… Dean squinted and crept closer, crouching down to get a better look.

Footprints.

He almost jumped for joy as he quickly pulled out his phone, snapping a picture and sending it to forensics before examining it further. Just the slightest indentation of …size 11?... boots lay imbedded in the carpet. The kidnapper must have been waiting for her, standing in this corner hiding for hours.

Okay. Evidence. And a shoe size.

Well at least that was something. Which was more than they’d had before.

Dean grinned down at the boot prints. They would catch him in time. He was sure of it. After an hour later and nothing else turning up, Dean decided it was time to head back to the station and give a proper report.

He practically bounded down the building’s steps, Indie on his heels, humming a little AC/DC under his breath. He went over to the back right door, letting Indie jump into his kennel, before going over to the driver’s door.

He hopped in, started up his Baby and…

He froze.

There, sitting innocently on the top of his dashboard was a note.

He carefully slipped on his gloves and picked it up. There was dread forming in the pit of his stomach. This was just sitting in his car. His LOCKED car.

He bit his lip nervously as he opened it, hands shaking only slightly.

--“I’m bored.

You’re smart.

Let’s play a game, shall we?”—

Dean’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He heard Indie whining worriedly from the backseat, smelling the terrified energy rolling off of him in waves.

“Fuck, Indie. We are so in over our heads…”

——————————————————————————————————

PART 3 here!

Thank you for reading!! Please let me know what you thought so far in the comments!! And if you want to be added to my tag list!

@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli @chook007

Also, little tid bit. I named the dog Indie after Indiana Jones (and the dog he was named after) cause I just needed this little canon where Dean is an Indiana Jones fanboy dork and I love it. No regrets.

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Find Me (Part 1 - Introduction)

Cop!Dean x Kidnapped!Reader

MASTERLIST

PART 2 here

Summary: Dean and his K9 Unit are helping with the investigation of the serial kidnappings and murders case. But this isn’t the typical case he was expecting, with love and life-threatening danger thrown at him along the way.

Warning: it’ll get more intense as the series goes on. For this chapter: some fluff with Dean and his dog.

A/N: special thanks to @gipsyjucar for giving me this prompt! I’m super psyched for this. I have devious plans for this one, so hang on. This chapter will be by far the most tame, because it’s more of an introduction chapter. I hope you enjoy!

“Winchester!”

Dean jerked awake, sitting bolt upright, a piece of paper still sticking to the side of his face. “Mmm?”

Police Chief Bobby Singer strode up to his desk, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning, “You been here all night, Winchester?”

Nodding a little groggily, Dean peeled the paper off his cheek with a look of displeasure. He rubbed his hands through his hair, unconsciously spiking it in various directions. “Yeah. Detective Henderson said I could help him with the investigation since I’m taking my exam next week.” He mumbled, eyes darting around trying to locate the coffee maker.

“Right. Right. Your promotional exam to get Detective. You excited to get out of the typical cop life?”

Dean grinned lazily up at him in response, “There’s no such thing as a ‘typical’ cop life.” He pushed himself to his feet, cracking his neck and stretching his back to rid his body of the stiffness present. He finally spotted the coffee pot on a table on the far side of the room and wandered over to pour himself a cup.

“You gotten any leads yet?”

Dean shook his head, taking a large gulp of coffee before coming up for air, “Four people kidnapped, each found dead a week later. Four kidnappings. Four bodies. Four weeks. And yet still no leads.”

“Have you gotten your K-9 Units out on it yet?” Bobby asked, perching himself on the corner of Dean’s desk. There seemed to be permanent frown lines etched into the older man’s face. So much so that Dean couldn’t even tell if he was actually upset or just asking for information.

He took another gulp of coffee and walked slowly back to his seat, “We tried. I even put my own personal unit on it the last two times. Nothing. Poor little guy has been mopey ever since the last scouting. They’ve just never been able to find the victims in time.”

“Right. Well, it’s early in the morning yet. So why don’t you head back to your apartment and get a couple hours of shut eye before getting back to it. I need you fresh.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dean grabbed his bag, shoulders slumping in relief and exhaustion, and headed out of the station and towards his car. Even though his body was practically singing at the thought of getting some genuine sleep, he still didn’t want to leave. This case was pressing, and he didn’t want to take time off from working on it, even if it was for sleep.

He slid into his impala and started up her engine.

The smooth rumbling echoed into his ear and soothed his mind more than any amount of coffee would. By the time he got home, Dean was feeling much more relaxed and definitely looking forward to those couple hours of sleeping.

He jogged up the stairs and entered his apartment, flicking an overhead light on.

“Hey boy! I’m home!”

Indie, Dean’s German Shephard K9 partner, came bounding around the corner wagging his tail furiously. Dean crouched down to nuzzle and pet him, giving Indie a tight hug and scratch behind the ears. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? Yeah! That’s you!” Dean’s voice pitched as he continued to greet his dog.

“You want some early breakfast? We got to get you to work in a few hours when I go back. Come on, let’s go get you some food.”

Dean quickly went about his morning routine, taking care of Indie and popping in the shower for a minute, before he finally was able to collapse onto his bed and fall into a deep sleep, exhaustion drifting through his body. Indie curled up against his side and they both became dead to the world within only minutes.

.

.

.

RING

RING! RING!

Dean’s eyes snapped open, red and still tired, but instantly awake. He glanced over at the clock; it had only been an hour.

RING! RING!

He groaned and rolled over to grab at his phone, answering it quickly.

“Hello? This is Lieutenant Winchester.”

--“Lieutenant Winchester?”—

Garth’s, a fellow cop, voice came scratching through the receiver.

--“There’s been another kidnapping. We need you back here right away.”—

Dean sat up straight, his blood running cold.

“Of course. I’ll be over there as soon as I can.”

He hung up the phone and looked over at Indie, the dog’s brown eyes staring up at him sadly.

“Yeah, I know, boy. Come on. We got work to do.”

-----------------------------------------

It was dark.

That’s all you could see.

There was a blind fold covering your eyes and your hands were tied behind your back. The stench of sewage and …blood, came drifting into your senses making you gag.

This was bad.

This was very very bad…

———————————————————————————————

———————————————————————————————

PART 2 HERE

Hope you guys liked it, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

And btw, yes. I actually did do my research on this one, the promotional exam and having their dogs live at home with them is realistic. Keeping that authenticity WHOOP WHOOP.

Also, comment below what you thought!

@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

NEW SERIES COMING SOON!

In a few hours I’m releasing the first chapter for a new thrilling series I’m starting! This one’s going to be exciting, so be on the look out and let me know if you want to be tagged!

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If you have a writing prompt or request please send it my way!!

My brain is freezing and I really need to write something, please help.

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Fight for Us (Part 3 FINAL)

Firefighter Dean x EMT Cas

MASTERLIST

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Summary: Dean and Cas are called to the scene of a burning house.... and then everything goes wrong.

Warning: Angst. Burns. Panic attacks. Nightmares.

A/N: so..... either tumblr is screwing me over AGAIN, and you guys aren’t seeing my posts, or none of my followers like Destiel. Either way, I’ve decided I’m just going to stick to Reader fics on here and post my Destiel things on my Ao3 account. So...yeah. Good talk.

One minute, thirty seconds later and Dean was being rushed through the ER doors and towards the OR. Nurses were calling out vitals and doctors were jogging alongside his stretcher. Everyone was buzzing, buzzing, buzzing through their emergency routine and Cas just stood there.

His jaw was slack and his eyes were glazed and his mind kept repeating the same thing over and over.

Dean is dying.

Dean is dying.

Dean is dying.

----------------------------

Benny and Garth and the others from the firehouse came to visit while Dean was in surgery. Cas didn’t speak to them or answer their question, he just kept staring at the ER doors.

Dean is dying.

Dean is dying.

Dean is dying.

-----------------------

Cas couldn’t stop replaying the moment when he saw Benny carry Dean’s limp body to him. The heart stopping moment when he didn’t even know if Dean was alive or dead. He looked dead. He looked so dead. So lifeless. So pale. And bloody.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, probably Garth. But he didn’t pay attention.

Everything had happened so fast then. And now…now it was so slow. Every moment of blood and fire and smoke played over and over in Cas’ head.

Dean is dying.

Dean is dying.

Dean is dying.

-----------------------

Cas’ vision focused in and out throughout the next, hours? Minutes?

He didn’t know.

But one moment he was replaying the roof collapsing and then next moment he was suddenly conscious of the smell of blood. The STRONG smell of blood.

And he looked down.

“Oh my god…”

His uniform was drenched in blood. His hands had dried blood crusted on them. There were trails of blood splattered on his face. It was everywhere. Dean’s blood. It was Dean’s blood.

It was all over him.

Dean’s blood. Dean’s blood. Dean’s blood. Dean’s blo-

“Easy there brother, I need you to breathe.” Cas felt two strong hands grab his wrists to stop his frantic wiping and smearing.

He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Why couldn’t he breathe? Only dead people couldn’t breathe. Oh my god. Dean. What if Dean isn’t breathing? Is he still breathing? Maybe he’s dead already and I don’t even know!

Dean is dead.

DEAN IS DEAD.

DEAN IS D-

“Cas!”

The sharp voice brought silence to his thoughts and Cas blinked up at Benny’s steeled face. Oh. He was having a panic attack. He slowly felt his breathing come under control as Benny walked him through his breaths.

“Alright. Good. Now, you and I are going to head over to the staff locker room, we’re going to grab you your clothes and get you changed and cleaned up. Okay?”

“O-okay.”

------------------------

Dean slowly opened his eyes to a white-washed, sterilized room.

Hospital.

Why was he in a hospital? Was he visiting Cas at work?

He blinked his eyes groggily and tried to shift slightly. That’s when he felt the pain shoot up his back and down his legs. Well shit.

He tried calling out but there was a tube down his throat and he felt a panic start to build up in his foggy brain. Why was there a tube down his throat? Why was he in a hospital?

Dean quickly forced himself to calm down.

Relax. Breathe.

And then he remembered.

The heat. The fire. The roof caving in. Oh god. This was going to suck.

He glanced around and realized that he was shifted on to his side. Probably to help with his back. Not entirely a comfortable position though…

“Mr. Winchester. It is very good to see you awake finally.”

Dean’s eyes darted to the door. A doctor. Great.

A couple nurses followed her inside and began messing with his IV’s and meds. He knew they got him on the strong stuff cause the pain in his back and legs was tolerable and not screeching in electric pain, like he was sure it should be.

“Mr. Winchester, my name is Dr. Mosely, I’m in charge of your care here. I’m going to give you a brief overview of your injuries and then we’ll do an evaluation and exam, that sound good?”

Dean nodded slightly.

“Good. Alright, so you came in with a mild concussion and various contusions, but those have marginally healed since you came in last week-“

Last week?!

“-However, you do have second-degree burns to your legs, but those should heal completely with no lasting damaging.”

Thank god…

“Your back took the brunt of the damage however, with severe third-degree burns. There will be severe scarring most likely, and possible nerve damage. However, after you’ve healed and had some good old fashion PT for a while, you should be back to jumping in blazing buildings and saving lives again in no time. You’re a very very lucky man, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as the doctor began her physical examination.

No lasting damage.

He was going to be alright.

A few scars. But he would be fine.

Scars were cool. He could take scars.

Permanent nerve damage not so much. So yeah. He could deal with scars.

Halfway through the doc’s exam he began drifting off again, letting blessed relief and pain medication sail him far and away. Maybe next time he woke up they would let Cas see him…

-----------------

Heat.

There was so much heat.

Fire was climbing up the walls, up the ceiling, along the floor. The room he was in had no windows, no doors. There was so much smoke. So much smoke. He couldn’t breathe.

I need to get out!

How do I get out!

I need to get out!

He could feel the fire lapping at his legs, he tried to run to the other side of the room, but the flames followed him. He felt searing pain as the flames bit into his legs, his arms, his chest and back, he watched his skin burn to a crisp in front of his eyes.

And the pain got worse and worse and worse.

He couldn’t stop screaming.

*Gasp*

Dean’s eyes snapped open. His breath was coming fast and there was sweat sticking to his hospital gown… Hospital?... Oh… right.

Dean closed his eyes and rubbed a hand across his face. He knew it would probably take a while before he could go back into a burning building again. He didn’t look forward to the nightmares that were to come.

He opened his eyes again tiredly, suddenly catching a glimpse of messy black hair, laying on the edge of his bed.

“Cas?” He croaked out. Wow. That was his voice?

Cas’ head instantly shot up, eyes wide and mouth open slightly. “Dean?” Cas’ voice cracked and he broke down sobbing, sloppily kissing Dean’s face. “I thought I lost you, I thought you were gone. It’s been over a week. You were so still. And when you came out of the burning house, the blood. There was so much blood….”

“Cas.”

Big, swollen, blue eyes turned to meet his gaze. Cas’ sobs still racking his body.

“It’s ‘kay Cas. I’m okay.”

“You were dying. I watched you dying. You were dying-“

"Cas..."

Dean smiled exhaustedly up at his boyfriend, his chapped lips cracking slightly. The green vibrance in his eyes made Cas' heart slow down and calm itself. He had never thought he'd see those eyes open again. So much had happened in just a few short hours. He loved Dean so fucking much, and he was going to be sure that after all this was over, Dean would know that, without a doubt.

Dean slowly lifted his shaking hand up to Cas’ cheek, wiping his thumb over the tear tracks. “I’m here. You’re here. Everything will be fine. That’s all that matters. That’s all we need. We can deal with the rest of the crap later. The physical therapy, the nightmares, we’ll deal with it later. But right now… in this moment… we’re okay.”

Cas put his hand on Dean’s and smiled as he sniffed quietly.

“We’re okay.”

.

.

THE END.

———————————————————————————

Let me know if you want to be added to my overall tag list

@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Fight for Us (PART 2)

Firefighter!Dean x EMT!Cas

MASTERLIST

!PART 1 here!

!PART 3 here!

Summary: Dean and Cas get a call for a house fire...but everything goes wrong.

Warning: burns, fire

Cas paced back and forth, back and forth, in front of the ambulance. His colleague was finishing setting up the emergency equipment for when the husband would be brought out. They had already checked out the wife and children. Mild smoke damage, they would be fine.

But the husband was still inside. And Dean… was still inside.

Cas chewed on his lip nervously as he continued pacing. “It’s fine. It’s fine. You do this every time, you idiot. And every time Dean comes out fine.”

He really wanted to go over to the Chief and ask if Dean had radioed in that he was coming out yet, but he knew better than to get in Fire Chief Singer’s way. It’ll be fine. Everything’s fine.

Just then Cas spotted Garth sprinting out of the house and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Dean would be just behind him.

But… something was wrong.

Garth was waving his arms frantically and pointing back to the house. Cas started jogging towards him, the skinny firefighter’s words just now reaching his ears, and terror shot through Cas at what he heard.

“-on fire! He can’t come down that way! I tried radioing him, but the signals shorting out! He’s still in there with the husband! And the roof-“ Garth’s panicking words were drowned out suddenly by a large crashing sound coming from the house.

All eyes darted over to the house just as the roof completely collapsed in on itself. The flames shot up an extra fifteen feet and pieces of the house started crumbling apart left and right.

“DEAN!!!”

Cas felt everything inside him freeze.

There was a loud ringing in his ears and his breathing stopped completely.

He wasn’t even aware he had started sprinting for the house until there were two firemen on either side of him, dragging him back to the ambulance. He felt tears streaming down his face and his vocal cords felt raw from screaming.

He barely noticed the other firefighters running frantically around the base of the house, searching for possible alternative exit and entrance routes. He thought he might have heard Jo, who was bracing against his left shoulder, mutter “Please come out a window, please come out a window.” As she glanced back at the flames behind her.

Five minutes later and Cas was still screaming, still struggling against the firefighters who had given up trying to reason with him. The wife was sobbing in the background when the Chief finally gave his crew the all-clear to do search-and-rescue inside because the flames were more managed.

Bobby had yelled something about watching foundation stability, but no one seemed to pay attention as Benny and Garth got a ladder and headed for a second-story window.

----------------------

Benny pulled himself up and over the windowsill, following closely behind Garth. The two men began sifting through the flaming debris, scanning the small bedroom they had entered in to.

“Dean!”

“Dean!”

“Dean, You in here, brother?”

No response was all they got in reply. The fire was still lapping steadily at their surroundings, so Benny prodded them out into the hall and through another bedroom door.

The men squinted through the billowing smoke, resuming their calls in the second room.

That’s when they heard it.

A groan.

“Dean! Where are you?”

Garth grabbed Benny’s shoulder and pointed to a pile of fallen beams near the center of the room, “There!”

As they raced towards it, Benny began to make out the shapes of two men, one laying on-top of the other. Shit. The man at the bottom was shifting slightly, the groans emanating from him, Benny assumed. But the man on top wasn’t moving at all.

Benny quickly crouched down, pushing the beams off of the two bodies.

What Benny saw made him want to wretch, right then and there.

Dean was the one on top. His fireman’s jacket was gone and he burns smoking and sparking still all along his back and legs. Soot and bruises littered his body from the impact of the beams, which were still burning when Benny had moved them.

Benny carefully pulled Dean of the house’s owner, trying not to dwell on the sickeningly slick feeling of the blood and melted shirt that stuck to Dean’s back.

“Garth we gotta go, this house is still creaking like crazy.”

Garth nodded silently, hoisting the second man onto his shoulders and making his way to the room’s window. “Hey! We need a ladder over here!” Those below quickly started scrambling to help them and before too long they were running the two men across the lawn and towards the ambulances, yelling for help.

----------------------

Cas’ head jerked up as he heard the firemen yelling for help.

He wiped the burning tears away forcefully, as he and his partner pulling out stretchers.

And then there was Dean. Held limply in Benny’s arms as he rushed towards Cas. He wasn’t moving. Cas swallowed thickly and quickly schooled his emotions. Dean needed his help, not his panic.

“Lay him here.”

Benny carefully laid Dean out on the stretcher and Garth did the same with the other man, who was fully conscious and coughing his lungs out, clinging to the fireman’s jacket around his shoulders. Dean’s jacket.

Cas turned back to Dean’s still form and began calling out vitals as he went down his automatic list.

“BP 190/120.

Heart Rate 110.

Respirations … 5 per minute

Temp. 104.5”

Cas dazed began running IVs as his partner called out much more stable vital signs from their second patient. Cas quickly moved over to checking Dean’s back. He paused a moment, placing a clenched hand to his mouth to stifle a sob.

His shirt was melted into the skin on his back and blood was soaking through the fabric. The stench of burnt flesh was vivid in Cas’ senses making his brain draw a blank.

His partner came up behind him, quickly taking over the examination at the notice of Cas’ freeze. “The other guy’ll be fine. I put him on oxygen and gave him some bronchodilators to open his airways. He’ll need a hospital soon, but he’s a lucky guy.” The man murmured.

“Come on, Cas. We gotta load him up. There’s another ambulance coming for the others, but right now he needs a hospital STAT.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay, let’s go. Let’s go.” Cas nodded jerkily and started loading Dean into the back of the ambulance. Thirty seconds later and they were streaming down the road, sirens blaring, and radioing in to the hospital.

“Stay with me Dean, stay with me.” Cas whispered to his boyfriend.

Dean’s eyelashes started fluttering and there was a low groan building in his throat. Cas immediately squeezed Dean’s hand and then began switching to a stronger pain medication. “Hang in there Babe, it’s gonna be okay.” Cas tried not to let his voice break as Dean’s moaning grew louder.

Flashing green peaked between Dean’s cracked lids, making eye-contact with Cas briefly before rolling up into his head and his body began seizing.

“Shit!” Cas turned Dean’s head to the side to avoid aspiration and turned the timer on. “BP’s up to 220/150. What’s our ETA to the hospital??”

“Two minutes!”

Cas pumped him with an anticonvulsant and prayed.

Dean’s body kept spasming the whole way to the hospital, limbs flailing as much as the restraints would allow. The whites of his eyes were haunting and the smell of smoke and sweat mixed with the sharp scent of urine as Dean lost bladder control.

Cas could barely hear anything except the pounding of blood rushing into his ears as he watched the timer keep counting, tracking how long Dean was seizing.

“Come on, Baby.” Cas bent down, whispering into Dean’s ear. “I need you to fight, Dean. Fight for me. Fight for us.” Cas felt tears burn in his eyes one minute later when Dean’s seizure finally stopped and his body relaxed bonelessly into the stretcher. “Please Dean. I need you to fight. I-I need you to…I need you.”

————————————————————

PART 3 HERE

@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Your work is amazing! If it’s possible, could I be added to some kind of taglist?

Totally! I just started a new quick series too!

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Fight for Us (Part 1)

Firefighter!Dean x EMT!Castiel

MASTERLIST

!PART 2 here!

!PART 3 here!

Summary: Dean and Cas are put on a house fire call. But nothing goes to plan and Cas’ worst nightmare comes true.

Warning: fire, burns, angst

A/N : okay, so, yesterday I was driving home and saw a fire truck race through the intersection, and literally every single man in that truck was beautiful, it wasn’t even fair. So, that’s where this idea came from.... because after that I need another Firefighter!Dean fic.

“Hey Cas!”

Cas turned to look over at the bright, green-eyed fireman approaching him in confident strides. Dean flashed him a wide grin and came up to the ambulance, leaning lazily against its side, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Hello Dean.”

“Third false alarm in one day, man, we must be going for a record.”

Closing the re-packed med kit with a *click*, Cas hummed in affirmation before turning to look at the taller man. “I believe you are right. The universe is toying with us today.”

“Oh definitely.” Dean took his fire helmet off, wiping away the sweat gathering underneath, and smiled disarmingly at Cas just as they heard another call come through the radio.

“Winchester! Pack it up! We gotta go!”

“On it!” Dean slapped his helmet back on and gave Cas a wink before running towards the firetruck, calling back to Cas over his shoulder. “I’m off after this one, Blue Eyes! Let’s grab dinner!”

Cas chuckled as he quickly finished re-loading the ambulance with his colleagues, glancing up for a moment to watch his boyfriend’s truck pull away and head down the street, lights flashing and horns blaring.

“It’s a date.”

---------------------------------------

Dean felt the tension in the truck skyrocket as they rounded the corner to see a two-story home, blazing with flames, smoke bellowing out from the windows and roof.

“Shit.”

“Benny, Winchester, man the hose. Garth and Jo, check the foundations. I need a list of all occupants for this house and a list of who’s out. Go go go! Hustle it!” Bobby started yelling instructions as the firefighters quickly poured out of the truck each moving with precision and accuracy.

Dean and Benny started pulling out the hose just as a crying woman came bursting out of the house, a baby and young child in her arms. “PLEASE! HELP ME! HELP!”

Dean and Jo immediately started sprinting towards the woman, “Is there anyone else still in the house?!” Dean called loudly as they ran towards the woman, the heat of the fire washing over them in waves as they drew nearer.

“My husband! My husband! He-he’s still in the house! Oh my god!” the woman sobbed, coughing against the ashes in her throat, tears streaming trails through the soot on her face.

Jo quickly took the two children from her and began ushering her towards the roadside as the ambulance finally came into view.

“Bobby! I got an adult male still inside, requesting permission to go in!”

Bobby’s voice crackled loudly out of the radio transmitter, “Partner up with Garth then go inside.” Dean waved hurriedly to his compatriot as they both started heading into the house, pulling their masks up to cover their faces. “But go quickly, this house is going up fast. I want you boys in and out in five minutes! You understand?”

“Yes sir!” Garth and Dean chorused into their radios.

Dean glanced back one last time, just catching a glimpse of Cas jogging towards the mother with a med kit and oxygen mask, before he turned back towards the house and followed Garth in.

-----------------------

Three minutes in and Dean had moved on to the second floor, Garth continuing the search on the first. The flames were devouring everything within the house: the walls, the floors, the wooden furniture and the sagging couch. Pictures on the walls were turning black from the smoke that was clouding Dean’s vision.

The second floor was even worse. The fire must have originated upstairs. Probably an electrical shortage, Dean automatically noted.

He checked the first door at the top of the stairs. Nothing. Second door, nothing.

He could hear Bobby yelling through the radio to pull out, but Dean only had one door left to try. He tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge. Crap.

He leaned his shoulder into it ramming against the door, once, twice. On the third time it flung open, debris flying in all directions at the force. Bingo.

The husband was laying on the floor, hands cover his head as harsh coughs racked his breath.

“I got you, dude. I got you.”

Dean quickly radioed in to Bobby, “I got him chief. Heading out now.”

“Hurry up Winchester! This house is about to come down on your ears!”

“Yes sir!”

Dean crouched down by the man’s shaking form, taking in the wheezing of his breath. “Shit.” Dean knew the man’s lungs must be severely compromised so he quickly yanked off his oxygen mask and pulled it down over the man’s face.

Dean lifted him up into a fireman’s carry and pounded towards the stairs. But by now the flames had completely engulfed the staircase. There was no possibility they could get down that way.

“Crap. Crap. Crap.” Dean muttered to himself as felt the smoke burn in his throat. “Not good. Not good.”

He quickly headed into the first room, noting the window at the far side. “There we go…”

Dean had just started to head for the window when he heard a roaring crack just above their heads. “Oh no…” The roof was caving in. He knew they wouldn’t make it to the window in time, so Dean quickly slid the man off his shoulder and to the ground, quickly laying on top of him and wrapping his coat around the man’s body just as the roof came crashing down around them.

A feeling of icy white-hot pain surged through his body, and then everything when black.

————————————————————————-

Part 2 here

@22sarah08 @cocklesbelli

There will only be two or three parts for this one, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this fic, or for all my fics and comment below what you think!

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I HIT OVER 100 FOLLOWERS GUYS!!! WHOOOP!!

You all are awesome. Thank you! Don’t forget to DM me or comment below if you have a request! (Also, I may have a Destiel EMT/Firefighter fic going up tomorrow. Can’t decide if I want it destiel or Reader. Let me know if you have a preference!)

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

MASTERPOST

Eeeeeeeeek I have enough fics for a legit master post!!!

AO3 account for longer fics: here

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SHUTTING DOWN (series complete)

Dean x hunter!reader

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, blood and guts, depression, angst, bit of fluff

Summary: After a fight one night with the reader, Dean wakes up the next morning in another woman’s bed. Can the reader and Dean get through the trauma that follows?

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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They Don’t Tell You About the Hard Things

Prostitute reader and Prostitute Dean (Stanford Era)

Summary: Reader is a prostitute on the streets and she meets another sex worker with green eyes and a kind smile. This is the story of a conversation with a stranger and the young man’s mask slips, just a little for her to see. (OR what dean really did while Sam was at Stanford)

Warning: Prostitution, Angst, no smut, no underage, nothing gross like that. Just talking about mature topics.

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FIND ME (In Progress)

Cop!Dean x Kidnapped!Reader

Summary: Dean and his K-9 unit are helping investigate the murder and kidnapping spree that is going on. He never would have imagined the love and life-threatening danger that he would encounter along the way.

Warnings: Thriller

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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FIGHT FOR US (Complete)

Firefighter!Dean x EMT!Cas

Warning: burns, fire

Summary: Dean and Cas are called in to a house fire. But nothing goes to plan and Cas’ worst nightmare is realized.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

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CROSSROADS

Dean x Reader

Warnings: major character death, lots of angst

Summary: Dean has to make a choice

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PERIOD PROBLEMS

Dean x Readeer

Warnings: PMSing

Summary: The reader gets pissed off when she’s on her period, not weepy. And poor Dean has no idea what going on.

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PLEASE JUST HOLD ME/ IMAGINE SLEEPING WITH DEAN AT NIGHT (series complete)

Dean x reader

Warning: nightmares, fluff

Summary: (can be read separate) you and Dean help each other get through the hard nights.

Part 1

Part 2

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DANCING IN THE MIRROR, SINGING IN THE SHOWER

Dean x Reader

Warnings: fluff, smut?(meh, implied)

Summary: After a long day of researching, all you really want is a hot shower.... but someone beat you to it.

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SO....DINNER?

Dean x wife! Reader

Warning: none

Summary: just a quickie comedy on how you and Dean balance hunting life with domestic life

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HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY, DEAN WINCHESTER

Dean x Reader

Warning: fluff (but adventurous)

Summary: Dean shows the reader how to have a unique Valentine’s Day

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FIREFIGHTER RESCUE

Firefighter!Dean x reader

Warning: fire, burns

Summary: reader finds herself trapped in a burning building, can dean get her out in time?

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Shutting Down Part 5 (FINAL)

Dean x reader

! PART 1 HERE!

! PART 2 HERE!

! PART 3 HERE!

!PART 4 HERE!

MASTERPOST

Summary: after a fight with the reader, Dean wakes up in another woman’s bed, now the reader and Dean have to deal with the consequences.

Warning: blood, fighting, fluff, SO MUCH ANGST

A/N: AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! It’s finished!! So, I feel like proud momma, honestly. I wrote part one MONTHS ago, and it was my first fanfic ever. Now I’m doing full epics on Ao3 and have a successful tumblr account and I just.... wow. So much nostalgia. Anyways! This one is SUPER long, compared to the others. I hope you like it. I think I will put together a master list of all my fics, so stay tuned for that, and I have another story in mind for what I will write next. Thank You SO MUCH for reading. Please enjoy.

Vampires only really feel two emotions: hunger and anger. These two emotions drive their thoughts, their actions, and their feelings. They define the most frightening characteristics that make them “monsters”.

But on that night, when you sprinted up the forest trail to find Dean in a puddle of blood, beaten and pale, eyes glazed over, and four vampires crouched around him feeding off of him, and one biting into his neck… those vampires were introduced to another emotion…

Fear.

The whole event felt like an out-of-body experience. You felt vibrations running through your chest and throat, you must have been screaming but you weren’t aware of it. There was blood pumping in your ears, so you couldn’t hear anything but static.

Dean.

Dean.

Dean.

The vamps started charging you, but you decapitated two of them before they could even get a swipe in.

You felt their blood splatter on your face and down your clothes, but you hardly paid attention. The last two vamps tried to pin you, but you just screamed in frustration and kicked their legs out from under them, springing back to your feet.

There was hacking and biting and punches and everything was blurry and foggy, until the head vamp grabbed an ax from a nearby wood pile. The other vamp lay dead at your feet, his head rolling slightly against your boot.

You watched as the last vamp began circling you, ax in hand. He passed between you and where Dean was laying, unmoving, and you felt your hackles rise.

You yelled at the top of your lungs as you charged the last vamp, machete raised. He ducked your swing and went at you with his ax. The next few minutes consisted of chopping and swinging, each of you grunting with frustration and effort.

Then you felt it.

A mind-numb pain bursting into flames in your side, your brain starting to short-circuiting and there was a buzzing humming through your body. You glanced down slowly to see the ax embedded in your side, deeply cleaving through your flesh like it was a loaf of soft bread.

As the vamp pulled the ax out of your side, preparing for another swing, you gathered your strength and drew back your machete, throwing all your force into one last swing, severing the vamp’s head from his shoulders.

You stayed standing there for a moment, letting the waves of shock and pain wash over you in waves. The static slowly cleared from your ears, and the buzzing drained from your body. All that was left was a sharp pain in your side, yanking you back into reality.

“Dean.”

You raced over to were Dean laying sprawled out on the blood-stained grass. There were so many bites on his body that his flesh looked more mangled than bitten. His skin was practically translucent against the bright blood and his hair was wrecked and sticky.

“Dean?”

You ran shaking fingers through his tangled hair.

“Dean? Can you hear me? I need you to hang in there, dude. For me? Okay?”

Slowly, painfully slowly, Dean blinked open his dull green eyes, un-focused and tired. You felt yourself sobbing with relief as he looked up at you. It took a few minutes before he could speak, while you quickly began applying pressure to his wounds, thanking god that the bite in his neck hadn’t his jugular artery.

“[Y/N]?”

There were tears running down your face as you smiled at him. “Yeah, I’m right here, Dean. I’m right here.” You finished makeshift bandaging the last bite using shreds of your coat.

“Bbbbut, yu… lffft..” His words slurred together in confusion.

You felt something akin to a damn breaking in your heart. “I know. I know I left. But I was wrong. It was a big mistake. I missed you so much Dean, god I missed you so much. And after all this crap we’ve gone through, you hadn’t even cheated on me. I’m such an idiot, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. I left you. How could I leave you? How could I do that? And now you’re bleeding out and I don’t know how to get you back. And I’m so tired. And my brain’s not working. And I’m so sorry, I’m so sor-“

“[Y/N].” Dean’s voice cut through your frenzied and feverish ramblings; his voice slightly less slurred this time.

“Yu nneed to breathhe, k?” His slightly glazed eyes drifted down your body and landed on the gash in your side, his gaze jumping sharply back up to you. “Yu’re hert!”

You vaguely became aware of him groaning in pain as he weakly took off his own coat to press up against your side, but you couldn’t stop muttering apologies and why was your body shaking?

“You’re ‘n shok. You ned to breathe.”

Oh, right. Shock.

“Is any’ else com’in’? [Y/N]! Any’ else coming?”

You finally locked eyes with his beautiful greens… so pretty. “Mhmm. Sam. I think.”

“Ok, we nneed to hed back to your car. K?” Dean carefully began pushing himself up to sitting, praying for enough adrenaline to make it back to the road so Sam could find them. He could see your body beginning to shut down.

He had lost far too much blood, his foggy mind knew that, but for as much as the bites burned and screamed at him, there was no internal organ damage…at least he didn’t think so. You on the other hand, were barely keeping your guts in with his jacket.

What a mess.

Dean slowly somehow managed to get to his feet, swaying dangerously. He took your shoulders, shaking them lightly to get your attention which had wandered down to your bloody hands at some point.

“Com’ on. We got’a f’nd Sam.”

You weren’t sure what happened in the next few minutes, hours? But you vaguely remember Dean half-carrying you through the forest and you half-carrying him in return. Your feet were dragging and his were shaking and stumbling.

“I luv’ yu D’n…”

“I love you t’o, [Y/N]. I’m so s’ sor’y.”

“W’re idio’s aren’ wwe?”

Dean let out a small laugh and a tear ran down his filth-covered face.

“Yeah, we ar’ idiots.”

How you two managed to make it as far as you did was a miracle and eventually you saw Sam and Bobby running up the path towards you both. They were yelling and their faces were painted with fear, but you just clung to Dean and smiled weakly as they ran up to you.

Bobby and Sam managed to get you both into the back of Bobby’s beat up van because the two of you wouldn’t let go of each other and the Impala only had space for one body in the back.

Dean held you tightly in his arms, kissing the top of your head and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “I lov’ yu. I lov’ yu. I lov’ yu…”

You could hear his heartbeat in your ear, getting slower and slower as the drive went on.

At one point you thought you heard Sam screaming to Bobby that Dean wouldn’t wake up and that you were barely conscious, but the black spots kept getting bigger and bigger and you felt yourself drifting away, piece by piece. The last thing you remembered was the stillness of Dean’s breath on your neck.

Then…

Nothing.

.

.

.

Beep. Beep. Beep

There was a throbbing in your head with each beep that reached your ears. Your body was slowly pulled to consciousness with the scent of antiseptic and blinding florescent lights.

Hospital.

Your eyes flited around the room, taking in the typical, standard-issue hospital room. Your eyes landed on Sam, hunched over in sleep, folded uncomfortably into a visitor’s chair. His face drawn and his hair was sticking out at odd angles. There was at least a four-days growth of beard on his face and he looked exhausted.

Then you felt someone shifting beside you in your bed. You looked over just in time to see two beautiful green eyes open sleepily and then freeze in shock.

“Dean?”

Dean’s eyes started watering and he began kissing your lips and nose and neck and all over face whispering, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay. We’re okay.” Over and over and over.

You put you’re hand up on his cheek, stilling him instantly, and you smiled tiredly, all the memories of what happened filtering back into your brain. “We’re okay.”

Then Dean started sobbing.

You held him close to you, as tightly as the pain in your side would allow. Each of you taking comfort in one another’s prescence. There was so much pain and so much carnage from everything that had happened over the last few months.

But you were here.

And he was here.

And no matter what else happened, this right here, this was all that really mattered.

---------------------------------

You learned later that you had been in a coma for six days, Dean being well enough to be moved to your room after the first two. He had kept crawling out of his own bed to sleep in yours, much to the nurse’s frustration.

You had had to have surgery the moment they brought you into the ER, so Dean had been careful not to disturb your stitches. He had staid at your side the whole time, Sam told you later, and had never let go of your hand, even when he was getting his own treatment. Sam said Dean didn’t speak a word the whole week you were unconscious.

-------------------------------

A month after you had been released from the hospital, you were unpacking from a recent hunt. Pulling your dirty clothes out of your duffle and tossing them into a hamper across the room, you heard a knock at your door. Three quick raps.

“Come in.”

The door cracked open and Dean popped his head in the room. “Hey!”

“Hey dude. What’s up?”

Dean stepped fully into the room nervously picking at his flannel sleeve. His eyes darted around until they landed at his feet. “I uh, just wanted to say thank you, for uh, trusting me. On this hunt. I really appreciate it.”

You nodded slowly taking in Dean’s fidgeting. “Of course I trust you. I’m not going to make that mistake again.

Dean glanced up sharply and bit his lip, eyes wide. You had told him about the conversation you had overheard, how he hadn’t cheated, even drunk. You had never seen a man cry so hard, especially Dean.

“Hey, are we ever going to… I don’t know. Debrief? Talk about what happened? Are you even okay?”

“Course I’m okay…”

You let a little bit of fire burn in your eyes in frustration, “You tried to kill yourself Dean. You’re not okay. And I know part of its my fault, but… Dean… what was going through your head? I don’t understand.”

Dean sighed and sat down heavily on your bed, you quickly sitting beside him. “I don’t know. I just, couldn’t keep my head on straight, thinking I had cheated on you, messed up one of the few good things in my life. And then I was putting Sammy in danger on hunts and…I just…I was tired…everything hurt so bad without you.”

“Dean.” You lifted your hand to cup his cheek, wiping a stray tear from under his eye. “You have to promise me something. No matter what happens to me. No matter what happens to Sammy… you don’t give up. Okay? I know you don’t see all the good things I see when I look at you, but they’re there.”

You joined your other hand on his face as he tried to look away, pulling his face back to you, staring him right in the eye, forcing him to focus. “Listen to me. You bring so much light and joy into my life. You bring LIFE into my life. Every time I look at you I feel like I can breathe again. Like I’m home. You fill me, and complete me, and you shine through all the other darkness around me. You are my light, Dean Winchester. And any person that can affect another person like that, is someone who has a soul that should never be thrown away. So promise me… no matter what happens…live.

Dean’s eyes were red and tears were streaming down his face as he nodded silently. Then he grabbed your face and gently, oh so gently, pressed his lips into yours.

You felt like you were flying.

His lips were soft.

Like wisps of clouds on a sunny day.

You felt him tenderly lowering you onto your back on the bed, him moving to sit on top of you. He smiled down at you, his tears drying on his cheeks, and eyes shining like you had never seen them shine before. Even the most beautiful emerald couldn’t compare to those eyes in that moment.

And you could see it.

Shining in his eyes like a nearby star.

Love.

For you.

And you were sure your eyes were filled with the same for him.

That night would live on in your memory more vivid and more real then anything else, even more than that fight so long ago. It drowned out all the months of pain. All the weeks of awkwardness after the hospital.

All the mess.

You both had learned a lot. And you both knew you would fight again and hard times would come again. But that was okay. Because now you knew…

No matter what happened…

You two were soulmates, and nothing could tear you apart.

“I love you, Dean.”

“I love you too, Sweetheart. Now and forever… I swear.”

The End.

———————————————————————————————

@supernatural13-13 @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterandpie @sasbb23 @itsjaybro16 @winchester-writes @mangueweaschester s @vicmc624

Let me know what you thought in the comments and if you want to be tagged in my next fic! (Not sure what it’ll be yet)

[eyes-of-fanfiction-green]

Shutting Down Part 4

Dean x reader

!! PART 1 here !!

!! PART 2 here !!

!! PART 3 here !!

!! PART 5 here!!

Summary: after a fight with the reader, Dean wakes up in another woman’s bed the next morning. Now the Reader and Dean must deal with the consequences.

Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts (honestly not that vivid), panic attacks, anxiety, everyone is panicking! Also depictions of violence.

A/N: hehehehe

“Sam?”

“[Y/N]! Oh my god, thank goodness you picked up! Look, I know you and Dean-“

“Sam, Dean didn’t cheat on me.” You sobbed into the phone before the panic in Sam’s voice registered in your brain. “Wait. Sam, what’s wrong?”

You felt your blood turn to ice under your skin the more Sam told you what was going on. The note, the suicide hunt, Sam tracking Dean’s phone’s GPS, how you were only an hour away from him while Sam two. You felt as though your brain was overloading with emotion and you began sprinting towards your car, bus be damned, while Sam gave you directions to the forest that Dean was hunting in.

Within minutes, you were screeching down the road in your car.

“This can’t be happening; this can’t be happening.”

Your tears had been replaced by panic and you could feel your heart pounding into your ribs. There was a constant tremor in your hands as you gripped the steering wheel much too tightly, and blood roared in your ears.

“I am so sorry, Dean. Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” There was an overwhelming guilt laying on your chest. You should have known Dean would have done something like this. His self-sacrificing self-destructing nature was beginning to become predictable. How had you not seen this coming?

-------------------------------------

Dean continued trudging through the forest, slowly, as though his energy was being drained out with every mile. The muddy ground was sucking into his boots with every step, making a sickening POP sound echo into the trees.

He hadn’t really thought this through very well.

It was a five-mile hike to get to, roughly, where he thought the vamp nest would be, and clearly he wasn’t as unexhausted as he’d previously thought. To say the hike was slow-going was an understatement.

----------------------------------------

Sam pressed the gas pedal to floor as he reached another open stretch of road, only fifty more miles till he made it to Dean’s location, already far closer than a normal driving speed would have allowed.

He startled slightly when his phone began ringing, yanking him out of his panicked daze.

“Yes??”

“Sam, hey boy. H-“

Sam swerved quickly around a small squirrel family in the road, yanking on the steering wheel breathlessly, “Bobby! I can’t talk right now! I have to get to Dean, and I’m so far behind, I’m probably already too late, and oh my god-“

“Sam!” Bobby’s alarmed voice cut through the wave of shock in his mind. Sam felt his breathing speed up more than it already was and he was pretty sure a damn was going to break soon. “Take a breath and tell me right now what the hell is going on.”

Sam tried taking a breath, he really did. But his throat was constricting, and his lungs were frozen. Black dots were closing in the corners of his vision and he lost control momentarily of the car before pulling over to the side of the road, yanking the door open and losing his breakfast on the pavement.

He was vaguely aware of Bobby’s deep voice calmly telling him to breathe from the phone still in his hand. But the ringing in his ears wouldn’t go away and his stomach was still expelling its contents, and all Sam could think of was how his brother was probably laying dead in some random forest in Buttfuck Nowhere, Indiana his face pale and his eyes unblinking…and oh my god!

He started chocking on his vomit and Bobby’s voice rose sharply to his ears in urgency. “Sam! Breathe, damnit! You can’t help Dean if you’re like this.”

And just like that, the ringing in his ears faded and his lungs started loosening up.

“Good, now tell me what happened.”

---------------------------

You whipped the car into park next to the trail’s opening. Praying to god that this was the one Dean had taken into the forest.

Racing to the trunk of the car, you whipped out a shotgun with silver and salt rounds and slid a machete into your belt. That should about cover it, whatever it is that Dean came to hunt here in the first place.

You took off down the trail at a full sprint, adrenaline rushing through your blood and giving your legs a much-needed boost.

For some reason you managed to have the good presence to text Sam that you had made it before heading off into the “no cell service” zone.

You had had three panic attacks on the way over here and there was still a vomit taste in your mouth, but somehow you had managed to force yourself back into the hunter mindset of calm precision.

Panicking wasn’t going to help Dean.

That was the only thought keeping you from having a mental breakdown right now as your boots pounded down the muddied trail.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

You knew this was all your fault, but for Dean’s sake you refused to let yourself dwell on it. Later. After Dean was safe. And in your arms. Then you could feel guilty.

But not right now.

Go.

Go.

Go!

-------------------------------------

Dean squinted around the tree he was hiding behind at the lone cabin nearby.

He knew he should come up with a game plan. Take out as many vamps as possible. But he was just so…tired.

He was trying not to think of the full repercussions of what he was about to do. He knew Sammy would be devasted but… this would protect him, maybe even let him move on to a normal life. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded good.

And [Y/N]…. [Y/N] probably wouldn’t even find out, and if she did…probably wouldn’t even care.

Dean let that barb sink in to his heart with a painful stab, eyes blinking away tears. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

Stepping out from behind the trees, he made his way quietly towards the sleeping cabin. This was it. Goodnight Vienna.

He carefully opened the creaking backdoor, just starting to peer inside when a large log connected with the back of his head.

CRACK!

--------------------------------------

After a few minutes Sam was back on the road, flying full force once again. Bobby had calmed him down, [Y/N] had sent him a text that she was already there, everything was going to be fine.

The miles flew by as he kept muttering to himself over and over in a constant mantra:

“Dean will be fine.”

“Dean will be fine.”

“D-Dean will be fine.”

---------------------------------------

Dean’s eyes glazed over for a moment as the blow knocked him to the ground, but he quickly shook himself and rolled before the vamp could get another hit in.

He wanted to die, sure.

But he was also planning on killing a few of the fuckers first.

Dean grabbed his machete and scrambled to his feet, ducking another blow. Just as he chopped off the vamps head, two more came running around the side of the building, and one from inside the cabin behind him grabbed his arms in a hold.

They got three solid hits in before one of them bared his teeth, preparing for a bite to his neck. Quickly, he flipped the vamp holding him over his shoulder, taking his head off a moment later.

His vision was still blurring from the blow to the head, and his stomach was cramping from the punches, but he kept his head up as four more vamps appeared out of nowhere, joining the two still in front of him.

Then he was hacking and there was blood spurting and he was taking blows to his…everything. But it only took a couple minutes and two more dead vamps before Dean was being held down on his back, facing up at four very hungry vampires who were leering down at him.

“Boys…let’s eat.”

And oh, was there pain.

Four toothy jaws clamped down on his arms and stomach, his legs and shoulders. The pain burned through his body as he felt himself being drained dry.

And he loved it.

Black was clouding his vision and the noise around him was starting to fade. This was it. Finally. Peace.

The head vamp sat up for a moment and grinned at him. He licked his blood-covered lips and gave him wink. Then, almost as if in slow motion, he watched the vampire’s teeth descend towards his jugular.

And then there was nothing but white.

.

.

.

“DEAN!”

——————————————————————————————————

PART 5 FINALE HERE

@supernatural13-13 @tftumblin @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterandpie @sasbb23 @itsjaybro16 @winchester-writes

Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list for the last part!!!

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