#//ooc sorry to keep piling the angst on lol

[fluffclan]

Darkrai do you ever think what would happen if you didn't die?

Dakarai: I think about it sometimes, especially after recent events...

[aingealcethlenn-archive]

Lost Love

Characters - Dean, Sam, Bobby, Reader

Pairing - Dean x Reader

Summary - After John died, the three men were back at Bobby’s house. Dean’s not taking it too well, and Sam and Bobby are at a loss on how to help him. That’s when Sam remember’s a girl Dean always talked about when they were younger. It would be a long shot, but it was the only idea they had.

Word Count - 3,468

Warnings - Angst, fluff, possibly a little bit OOC? (If you spot any other warnings I should add, please let me know so I can edit this post to include them!)

A/N - My beautiful little sister made this pile of...idk what it was...into a BEAUTIFUL masterpiece! AGAIN! lol Thank you @wrenwritesometimes

Tags - @blondekel77 @xfirespritex @@big-to-beautiful @notnaturalanahi @thepalaceofmelanie @lenaabs @hushothermuses @theimpossibleg1rl  @deathtonormalcy56 @impala-dreamer @jensen-jarpad @jpadjackles

Story:

Dean stood broodingly and dusty, staring at the hood of his crumpled baby as Bobby and Sam sat inside talking.

They knew he was upset. He was taking the loss hard, and there was nothing they could do. He wouldn’t open up to either of them - it just wasn’t his style. Both had tried everything they could think of to get through to him, but nothing was working.

“I don’t know what to do here, Sam,” Bobby admitted exasperatedly. “I’ve never seen ‘im like this before.”

“I… I haven't either,” Sam replied and leaned back into the chair he was in.

It was a full minute before he perked up, and sat up straight, his eyebrows raised and his eyes wide. “Bobby, I might have an idea who could help… it might a long shot, though...”

“Well, spit it out, kid,” Bobby shot back, leaning forward in his own seat.

“I think I could call this… this girl Dean used to know...”

Bobby raised his eyebrows to prompt Sam to just say who, but Sam was busy gnawing his lip and staring at the carpeted floor.

Shaking his head in exasperation, he snapped his fingers and said mockingly slow, “And that is...?”

“She’s--was-- she was just…” Sam stammered. “She was just this girl Dean used to know.” Sam didn't know how else to explain her. It was basically all the information he had ever received about her from Dean.

Bobby leaned back in his seat, staring long and hard at the young man before him stammering like a shy fourteen-year-old kid all over again.

“Dean was close with someone other than family?” Bobby’s eyes narrowed a little, moving to questioning Dean.

“Close enough,” Sam shirked.

Bobby was getting frustrated now. Why was he being so vague? “Close enough, meaning?”

“Whaddayou think, Bobby,” Sam brushed off quickly and changed subjects quickly. “I bet he still has her number in his phone,” Sam shrugged uncomfortably.

“She a hunter?” Bobby questioned. He wasn't about to let Sam off the hook yet.  

“Not… exactly,” Sam allowed.

“What do you mean not exactly,” Bobby mimicked, looking at Sam confused and frustratedly.

“I mean…” Sam conceded. “Dean used to… take her on hunts when dad would make him go hunting alone... but she’s not a hunter herself.”

“So who is she, then?” Bobby pressed on, frustrated, confused, and cautious now.

“I don’t know for sure,” Sam admitted, leaning back in his seat again. “He never really gave me that many details on her. I just remember seeing text messages to her whenever he was upset.”

“And how do you think she’ll help?” Bobby said snidely. He didn't particularly like the idea of inviting a stranger out to his house.

“She may be the only hope to calming Dean down, Bobby.”

“You know he’ll be mad at us when he finds out,” Bobby challenged, though softer.

“It’ll be worth it if it gets him out of this slump,” Sam said with a noncommittal shrug.

Sam stood up from the table and went to find Dean’s phone. Scrolling through his brother’s contacts, he found the girl’s name, and wrote down the number quickly before putting the phone back where he found it.

Walking back to where Bobby was still seated, Sam pulled out his own cell phone, and dialed the number, hoping it was still connected.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Sam stammered, taken off guard by the response. He didn't honestly expect the number to still work. “Is this--uh… is this Y/N?”

“Yes?” Her response came, her tone that cautious curiosity you hear when you answer an unknown call. “Who is this?”

“Do you know a Dean Winchester by chance?” Sam asked and his brow furrowed when the line went silent for a long moment.

“Who is this?”

“This is Sam Winchester,” Sam responded rushedly. “I’m Dean’s brother.”

“How did you get my number?” She asked lowly.

“Look,” Sam defended softly after he shook off his shock at her responses. “I’m sorry to call you like this. I took your number from Dean’s phone without him knowing… he’s had it for years.”

“Why, exactly? Dean and I haven’t spoken in years.” Despite sounding mad and her tone being harsh, she sounded remorseful.

“Listen, Dean’s in a rough place right now, and I couldn’t think of anyone else that would help.”

“And so you thought calling me was a good idea?” She sounded a bit frustrated; a bit flustered.

“He always talked about you,” Sam tried to explain. “How you’d help him on hunts, and how you were always there when he needed someone to turn to. He never really had anything negative to say about you, so I just thought -”

“You thought you could sneak into his stuff, find my number, call me up and I’d come running to help out and get him back to his good ol’ self.” She took a deep breath. “Here’s the thing - Sam, right?”

“Yea,” he sighed, sensing she was about to hang up.

“Your dad made it pretty damn clear that I was to stay far away from you boys, and that Dean was to never contact me again,” she ranted. “Being… well, Dean, your brother listened to him and not anything or anyone else.” Her words were harsh but she still sounded remorseful.

“Our dad won’t be a problem anymore,” Sam replied flatly.

“Oh?” she sounded less angry, and more breathless and resigned. “Why’s that?”

“He’s dead,” Sam replied flatly.

She was quiet for a long, long moment.

“I-I… I’m so sorry to hear that...” Sam could hear her tone soften. “Is that why--”

“Yeah. He’s taking it pretty hard.”

She was quiet again until she asked, “Where are you?”

“We’re at Bobby’s in--”

“South Dakota, Sioux Falls… Dean made sure I knew where he was if anything ever came up…” she rambled. “I-I can be there in… about six hours, tops? Think you can keep him around that long?”

“Yea, that won’t be a problem.”

“Alright... I’ll see you then,” she said breathlessly.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me yet, Sam. Let’s see if I can even help first.”

Sam hung up the phone, and looked at Bobby, bemused at the entire conversation. He set his phone down, and picked up his beer again.

“Well?” Bobby prompted when Sam found him in his den.

“She said she’ll be here in a few hours.” Sam shrugged.

“That’s it?” Bobby shot back, confused.

“Seems that way?” Sam replied, still confused himself. “As soon as I told her dad died, she didn’t really ask anything else aside from where we were.”

“I really wanna know who this girl is…” Bobby admitted with a chuckle. At Sam’s ‘are you serious’ face, he explained himself.

“I mean - come on, Sam. I don’t even know any hunters that are willing to drop everything and show up like that,” he snapped his fingers, “without asking some questions first.”

“I honestly have no idea, Bobby,” Sam defended, shaking his head. “All Dean ever told me was that it was some girl he had gotten close to, told her our family secret, and would take her on hunts when dad sent him alone... Dean never told me anything else about her. Hell, I don’t even know what she looks like.”

“Let’s hope you made the right move then, I guess,” Bobby said with a derisive snort as he took a swig from his beer.

Dean was so focused on his work in the impala’s hood that he didn’t hear someone approaching until the crunch of the gravel was just behind him and the car.

Dean assumed it was Sam coming to check on him.

“Sam, could you be a dear and hand me the line wrench?”

Looking at the random assortment of tools at the dusty ground she found the line wrench and bent to pick it up wordlessly.

When she stood, Dean was turned around and staring at her with wide, surprised eyes.

Seeing Y/N standing in front of him, his eyes softened and he found himself at a loss for words.

She smiled softly, timid in her own right. “Hey, Dean,” she murmured before awkwardly offering Dean the wrench.

She offered another small smile, wanting so badly to throw her arms around his neck and pull him close, but holding back for fear of how he’d respond.

He took an unguarded, stumbling step closer to her, standing at the corner of the car, wiping his hands off and setting his rag down. Taking another step, he stood toe to toe with her, looking down, his hands slowly found their way respectively onto the dip of her waist and the wrench.

She looked down at their hands as Dean lightly wrestled the wrench from her hand and tossed it to the side before he rested both hands in their rightful place on her waist.

Lifting her eyes, she looked up at him through her lashes, seeing his emerald green eyes sparkle just as they had every time before. His hands never left her body as they moved up to grasp her shoulders. He leaned his head down ever so slowly until his lips brushed against hers. She placed a swift, gentle peck against them, as if offering permission.

It was all he needed.

His fingers’ tightened their grip on her shoulders, pulling her in even closer. His arms wound themselves around her, trapping her arms to their chests. She could feel their hearts pounding together as one of his arms trailed down along her spine.

The way he moved his mouth along with hers, a desperate longing, demanding yet passionate, caused him to let out a deep growl before he finally pulled away, leaving her to catch her breath. He gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face, and took a deep breath of his own.

“What are you doing here?” he finally asked, just barely above a whisper.

“Your brother called me,” she said with a smirk.

“How did he--” Dean chuckled.

“He said you used to talk about me,” Y/N interrupted with a small and teasingly smug smile at the thought. “Found my number in your phone and figured it was worth a shot.”

Her smiled faded as she continued. “He’s worried about you, Dean. They both are.”

“I’m fine, Y/N,” Dean responded hoarsely, his expression soft… and undeniably pained.

He let go of her quickly with reluctance and tried to turn back toward the car, but Y/N grabbed his wrist, as he took a step away, to stop him.

“No… You’re not,” she retorted gently. “You may be able to lie to Sam and Bobby, but you can’t pretend with me, man.”

“We haven’t seen each other in seven years, Y/N,” Dean tried to argue, pulling his hand free from her grasp. “You don’t know anything about me anymore.”

Y/N was taken aback, but her hand found his wrist again before he got to far.

“I know more than you think,” she shot back, trying not to yell at the man before her. “I know you’re - you're doing what you did when your dad made you move on from me,” she said angrily, her voice involuntarily cracking.

Dean was silent, but his jaw clenched and cocked to the side.

“I know that you're saying one thing… meaning the other,” she listed. “I know you're bottling up what you feel in order for those around you to just forget about you so they can go through the motions…”

Dean was rebelliously silent.

“I know that you’re trying to be that solid rock for everyone else, but… Dean, you can't do that when you hardly have any foundation for yourself anymore,” Y/N exclaimed softly. “You can’t keep bottling all this up, Dean. All it’ll do is break you. Maybe not now…” she conceded, “but it will break you.”

“I can handle it, Y/N,” Dean defended flatly. “Really.”

“Winchester, you’re as stubborn as ever, you know that?” Y/N snapped, taking Dean by surprise. “But let me tell you one thing, one thing that will never change.”

Y/N moved her hands to frame Dean’s face. She made him look at her, into her eyes.

“You--” she shook him lightly, “Are not--” again, “Your father.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her. “You don’t know a damn thing about my father!” He nudged Y/N back and marched toward his car again.

Angry now, Y/N shouted back, “I may not know all about your dad, Dean, but I know how you reacted to him!”

Dean rounded back on her, but stayed planted in front of the impala’s hood. “Oh, yeah, and how did I react to my father, Y/N!”

“Like I did with mine!” Y/N snapped, but then immediately hunched her shoulders and held a hand to her mouth to cover how her chin was quivering.

“Like how you try so hard to be like him,” she pressed on, willing her voice to stop wavering and the tears to stop. “And to make him proud? But you can't?” Her voice was cracking so much - too much. She just wanted to shut up and leave… but she had to stay.

“You can’t be John!” She roared, clenching her fists to her sides, tears running freely. “You’re better than him, Dean! So much better! You don’t have to be that-that little obedient kid he wanted so badly! Not anymore!”

Dean stood in silence. His breathing heavy, and his fists clenched.

She watched through watering eyes as he closed his eyes tight, rubbing his forehead with his knuckles.

Sniffling, Y/N looked around the yard, spotting a crowbar.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice hoarse from emotion. “You wanna play tough guy.”

Picking up the crowbar, she held it out for him. “Here.”

He lifted his face from his hands to stare at the crowbar. He stayed still, looking up at her with an angry, baffled expression.

“What’s this for?” he asked dangerously.

“Just take it,” she snapped lightly.

“Why?” he demanded un-movingly.

“Dean,” Y/N scolded, her eyes violently fluttered with an eyeroll, before closing exasperatedly. “I'm not asking you to beat me with the crowbar.”

With that, he took it from her hands carefully.

“Go on,” she said as she backed up a few steps. She sniffled as she nodded toward a random, dilapidated, junk car behind him.

He looked at her, then to the crowbar, then to the car.

Gripping it tightly, like a bat, no other words needed to be said, he whipped around and with the momentum, smashed the window of the car behind him.

Y/N tensed, cringing slightly at the sudden sound of breaking glass, but just watched, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. 

What surprised Y/N was when, with another aggressive turn, Dean assaulted the impala itself, bringing the crowbar down on the trunk, over, and over again.

The racket brought a very startled Sam and Bobby to come investigate the noise.

They were both stunned to watch Dean destroy his most prized possession.

It was Sam that was first to react, quickly making his way down the porch stairs. Y/N, however, stopped him before he got too close.

“It’s-It's fine. Just leave him,” she murmured.

“But, he’s -” Sam’s voice conveyed his concern for his brother clearly.

“He’s grieving Sam,” Y/N interrupted. “It’s what he needs to do.”

“What do you mean? He loves that damn car,” Bobby voiced his confusion from behind them.

“He still does... that's not the point. I mean, I was just as surprised when he turned on Baby...” Y/N explained. “Just... let him get it all out, and he’ll be good.”

“How can you be so sure?” Sam argued, moving to stop his brother again.

“Stop,” she ordered, standing short but tall. She looked up at the giant towering over her. “He’ll beat up on the car a little, take out all that bottled up emotion he’s been trying to hide. All the bottled up aggression, anger, and pain he’s been harboring towards you guys’ father - that he could never express directly - and then he can focus on getting back to being himself.”

She looked between the two men standing on either side of her. They both just nodded dumbly just in time to watch Dean stagger back from the impala.

Dean tossed the weapon aside, breathing heavily.

He put his hands on the trunk and leaned against it while he looked at the three of them standing there as his chest heaved.

He got up from the impala and b-lined right to Y/N and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his own forehead against hers.

Once he steadied his breathing, he whispered, “Thank you,” quietly to her.

“You’re welcome, Dean,” she whispered back, wrapping her arms tightly around his abdomen.

He stood up straight, and looked toward his brother. His hands never leaving their spot around Y/N, only loosening slightly.

“Sammy, normally I’d be pissed that you went through my stuff and pulled a stunt like this,” he began angrily before sighing and relaxing slightly into Y/N. “But I’m glad you did this time.”

He waved a warning finger Sam’s way. “Just don’t make it a habit, got it?”

“Deal,” Sam mumbled, smiling at his brother.

“You good now, boy?” Bobby spoke gruffly, leaning on his porch column.

“I’m good, Bobby.” Dean responded quietly, pulling Y/N in tighter, resting his chin gently on the top of her head.

Bobby looked between the two of them with a huff of a laugh, and went back inside his house.

Dean turned his attention back to Y/N and moved his forehead to rest against hers once more, closing his eyes blissfully.

They didn't mean to, but Sam stared at the exchange alone before he smiled a bemused smile to himself before joining Bobby inside.

It had been a few hours, Dean and Y/N had joined Bobby and Sam inside for beers a while ago.

After noticing lingering glances from Bobby, Y/N chuckled and asked what was the matter.

“I’m glad you seem closer to yourself and all Dean, but, is one of you going to explain why she is so gawd dang important?”

Y/N and Dean just laugh.

“No offense.” Bobby smirks at her.

“None taken Bobby.” Y/N looks up at Dean. “You want to explain? Or should I?”

“Let’s grab another beer first. Then you can fill them in.” He smiles down at her.

Y/N offers to grab a beer for each of the men, and hands them out before taking a seat near Dean, who’s hand immediately intertwines with hers.

“So what’s the story here?” Bobby questioned again.

“Well, Dean and I knew each other when we were kids, before you were even born Sam. Once Mary died though, and John became a hunter, we lost touch. That was, until John came back to Lawrence looking for answers. Dean and I reconnected, and managed to find a way to sneak around to keep in touch after you all left again. He kept my parent’s home phone number on a piece of paper and would call me from pay phones or hotel phones any chance he could. Once he was able to drive, he’d offer to go on hunts alone. Sometimes, he’d even make them up just to be able to see me. We’d either meet somewhere in the middle, or he’d pick me up as he passed through, whatever we had to do.”

“So you really are something special to this boy, huh?” Bobby smiled a little as he looked between the two.

“I guess so.” She blushed a little before taking a deep breath. “John sure thought so anyway. Hated it too. Thought I was taking all Dean’s attention away from hunting. Told us we weren’t allowed to see each other anymore, or even contact each other for that matter. I’d still get the occasional text message, or voice mail, either letting me know of a new phone number or telling me he was still alive. On occasion, if he was having a really bad time, I’d get random messages of just him kind of venting his problems. That was it though, I never saw him again. Until today anyway.”

“Y/N here was the only person I’ve ever trusted outside of our family, the one person I could turn to when things started to crash around me, and the only girl I’ve ever truly loved. Dad knew it too. I don’t know if he was trying to save us from having the same thing happen to her that happened to mom, or if he was worried I’d give up on the family business, but whatever his reason, he kept us apart for a long time. I thought she’d forgotten about me. Moved on with her life.”

She lifted his arm, and wrapped it around her shoulders, never releasing her hand from his.

“She’s the only one who ever really understood me in a way no one else could. I could fool anyone else, lie my way out of anything with anyone, but not with her. So yea, you could say she’s somethin’ special to me.”

“I love you too Dean.” She chuckled a little. Leaning over, kissing his cheek.