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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years ago

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Imperium Locus

Summary: Dean wasn’t supposed to feel the way he did about Donna Hanscum. On paper, the pair were never meant to be, but what happens when he dares to let his guard down.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum

Word Count: 5.7k+ (I’m so sorry)

Warnings: Language, show level violence, character death

Square Filled: Enemies to Lovers

Author’s Note: Written for @spngenrebingo. I honestly have no idea where this came from. Probably because I’m absolute Winscum trash. I have no regrets. Also, I’m not 100% sure this is even enemies to lovers. I tried though, therefore none of you can criticize me. I hope you all enjoy this, as always I love to hear what you thought. xoxo Alex.

Check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

A camera flashed outside the main door to Imperium Locus as clients flooded inside. The lights inside were low, reflecting against the crystal that hung from almost every open space of the club. There was chatter from the locals intertwined with the jazz that the band created from the stage.

“Mrs. Scott is a tramp, everybody knows that. Well, except for Mr. Scott.” Laughter rang out around the table as Dean was making his rounds. He made eye contact with his buddy at the table, squeezing his shoulder and bringing him up to stand next to him.

“Hey, Garth, how about we keep the gossip for the column, eh? People are trying to enjoy themselves tonight.” Dean patted down his wrinkled tie and raised a single brow at the journalist.

“You won’t have to worry much longer Dean. I’m working on something big right now, you’ll see.” Garth’s words were slurred as they came from his mouth. “They’ll all see!”

Dean once again patted his friend’s shoulder, leaving him to be with the group he had shown up with. Garth was always on about how he had some big story that he was working on, and it almost always ended up as some sort of fluff piece in the local paper. Dean had no worries about the strange fellow he called a friend, but it wouldn’t hurt to cut him off before he could no longer walk straight.

As he made his way to the bar, a shot was slid across the wood and into his ready hand. Dean tipped it back, allowing the whiskey to burn down his throat. Ash stepped down the way to wipe the counter in front of his boss.

“Only water for Garth from now on, okay? He can come to me if he’s angry but I don’t need him getting himself into trouble on my account.”

“Got it, boss.” Ash nodded his head once at the club owner before refilling his shot. Dean threw it back again without hesitation. “By the way, isn’t Jo supposed to be on by now?”

Both men turned their heads to the stage devoid of the Imperium’s star performer. Though it wasn’t unlike her to be a little late to the stage, her absence never sat right with Dean. He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and hummed, “Yeah, let’s give her a couple of minutes.”

As Dean spoke, the lights dimmed in the club as the stage lights grew. The head of his jazz ensemble came onto the stage to announce Jo’s arrival, and the crowd broke out into applause and whistles.

“What a dame,” Ash sighed from beside Dean.

“She gets ‘em every time.” Dean agreed. The pair of them watched the charismatic woman charm the crowd like she did every other night since joining the staff at the Imperium. Jo was the secret to Dean’s recent success with the club. Ever since the paper did a column on her show, people from all around the greater area were coming to see her perform. The small, spirited woman had a way with the music that captivated even the most skeptical and frazzled customers.

“Dean,” Ash’s face fell as he glanced towards the front door. Dean caught his gaze and followed it, only to be hit with the last thing he wanted to deal with tonight. His place was more packed than ever and more than that, he wanted a peaceful evening that didn’t end in a bloodbath.

Walking in the front doors of his club was none other than Fergus MacLeod, the notorious jackass that pretty much owned the town just a mile south of Lawrence. He was flanked by his usual henchman, Gordon Walker. None of that pissed him off more than the woman on his arm, Donna Hanscum.

Donna was a girl that had grown up right here with his little brother Sammy. Just a few years younger than himself. She was quiet and kept to herself in school mostly but what had always caught his eye was her beauty. Her soft blonde curls were always in place and her mother never failed to pick out a dress for her that didn’t bring out the amber in her eyes. She was a sweet girl. That is until she married Doug. Somehow, that was where it all went downhill for the young woman. Ever since her association with Doug, the pair had been attached to MacLeod’s side. Even after Doug left her, Donna stuck around the vile man that Dean assumed was less than human. They were the dynamic duo of Pleasant Grove, ironically enough. But everyone knew of the back door dealings they tried to hide. Not to mention all the trouble they have caused the Winchester family. Fergus wanted to take over Lawrence, where the real money was to be made, and he had tried to use John’s death as a means to get inside. Dean had been warned by his father of the MacLeod’s long before he was murdered, and had sworn to protect Lawrence from them at all costs. So that’s what he does, protects the town he loves from the evil they can’t even begin to comprehend, and now, here MacLeod was, in his late father’s club, and that pissed Dean off.

“I’ll take care of it, but call for Benny.” Dean tapped the bar with his knuckles before pushing off of it and leaving Ash to head to the back of the house. Dean licked along his lower lip, his eyes narrowed at the people in his house. Donna caught his line of sight, her head tilting up and a sly smile appearing on her lips when she realized he was staring at her. She pulled on her sky blue gown as she went down the steps into the lounge area, the slit in the satin reaching far higher than anything Dean had seen before.

Fergus gripped her elbow and guided her to a table behind Gordon. The henchman tapped the shoulder of the paying customers at the table and shooed them away with a tip of his hat. He pulled out the chair for Donna who sat down next to the man that was evil personified. Her eyes still on the green-eyed club owner.

“Well well, if it isn’t little Cassie Robinson.” Donna turned her attention away from Dean and towards Fergus, where he now had the arm of a young woman trapped in his grasp. “You have the money you borrowed from me?”

“Not yet, but I have something in the works.” She flashed him a brilliant smile, but one that was laced in fear and embarrassment. Her eyes averted back and forth, hoping no one in the area was paying any attention to her predicament.

“Not yet? Well, that was a glass of mighty expensive champagne I saw you drinking over there.” Fergus’ lips twitched into an evil smirk.

“Well, a lady has to keep up appearances.”

“Your appearance is gonna suffer if you don’t get me my money. Twenty four hours.” His voice dropped dangerously low and Cassie ripped her arm from his fingers. A frown fell onto her face as he sneered at her, the young woman stomping off without another word. Donna looked away as Cassie passed her, ashamed that she couldn’t help the poor woman. She couldn’t even save herself, so what was she to do for Cassie?

The young woman in trouble knocked into Dean’s shoulder as he passed on his way to MacLeod, and he watched her run off with a sigh.

“Can I help you?” Dean stopped next to Donna, his eyes on the man whose vile leached out into the atmosphere around.

“Wow, Dean Winchester. What a pleasure.” MacLeod did nothing to hide the sarcasm in his voice, a smile still on his lips. Dean pushed back his suit jacket and slipped his hands into his pockets as his gaze flicked to Donna for half a second. “You know I actually thought this was my club for a while, considering that’s my singer up there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to inform you, but your club is down the road,” it was Dean’s turn to smile now, “The one lacking customers.”

“Hmm, funny.” Fergus pretended to ponder over his thoughts. “Give me my girl back, and I’ll let you live.”

“Jo is free to do whatever she wants, and she wants to stay here.” Dean turned as he spoke his next words, his forefinger pointing towards the main entrance. “You, on the other hand, are free to go.”

MacLeod laughed, an earnest chuckle, “You know this club had such class when your father ran it. You know it’s too bad your mother and John had such a horrific accident, I mean your mother was always so,” Fergus licked his lips, his eyes narrowing, “Hospitable.”

“I think it is time for you to get out of my club, or I will throw you out.” All hint of amusement was gone from Dean’s face. His blood was boiling underneath his skin, and it took everything in him not to sock the man staring up at him.

Fergus didn’t take his eyes off Dean, both men were intent to size the other up. “Gordon,”

Dean turned just in time to see Gordon smash a bottle against the table, holding up the jagged edges to the club owner’s face. Dean didn’t back down, his jaw ticking as he stood his ground. The music around them faded away as all eyes in the club had been drawn to the commotion. Even Jo stood watching with bated breath from the stage.

“Hey,” Benny now stood at the entrance to the club, his gun resting in plain sight on his hip. He was flanked by Dean’s other right-hand man, Castiel, who also was accompanied by his piece. “I think that’s enough for tonight.”

Gordon dropped the glass with a small nod from his boss, who stood then, taking his coat from Gordon and slipping it back on his shoulders. The three walked by Dean, all eyes on them as they made their exit. Fergus paused in front of Dean, looking out towards all the hesitant faces. “Thanks for the lovely evening.” He sneered before continuing out.

Donna stopped to watch him return to her, letting him pass by out the door. Her gaze landed on Dean one last time and he couldn’t help but wonder if he detected something in her eyes this time. Was it fear? Or maybe it was a concern? Either way, it set Dean Winchester on edge, and that was not an easy feat.

Dean followed them until the trio disappeared behind the doors, turning back around to his still silent club members. “Sorry ladies and gentlemen, round on the house!” Dean flourished his arm towards the stage. “Jo Harvelle!” He signaled towards the band to start up again, wanting nothing more than for the little scene with MacLeod to be over with. He took a deep breath as the attention turned back to his star performer.

The Mercedes rolled to a stop outside MacLeod manor as a fog settled in the small town.

“Give us a minute, Gordon.” Fergus caught the eye of his driver in the mirror and waited for him to exit the car. Donna turned her attention on the man, a confused tilt in her brow. Fergus took a deep breath and looked off out the opposite window.

“I saw you making eyes at Dean tonight,” he stated.

Donna forced a smile on her face and breathed out a chuckle, “I was doing nothing of the sort.”

“I know what I saw, don’t make a liar out of me.” Fergus gripped her bicep in his stubby fingers, his nails digging into her soft flesh. The pair exchanged equally heated stares, Fergus with his teeth bared and Donna on the verge of tears. “You are only still alive right now because you have been useful to me. The second that changes, you are done. Now go to bed.”

Fergus leaned over her to push open the car door. The blonde climbed out of the Benz without a word, her heart hammering deep in her chest. She knew his words were not just a veiled threat, but a promise.

Gordon pushed open the gate as he pulled the toothpick from between his plumps lips, “I believe you, Donna, I know you only have eyes for me. Sweet dreams,” he sneered, taking it upon himself to smack her behind as she walked past him without comment.

The crowd inside the Imperium was thinning as the night came to a close. Dean helped Garth out, making sure he headed in the right direction towards home before coming back inside.

“Last chance,” Cassie purred as she walked up to the eldest Winchester, handing over her fur shawl to him.

“Good night, Cassie,” Dean smiled as he helped her into her shall. “Oh and Cassie, those were nice days we had.”

“Sure they were,” she sighed. “Sorry I had to break your heart.” And with those teasing words, she was gone, her smile faltering as she exited the club.

“Are you sure you can still handle your whiskey, Chief?” Benny came up behind Dean as he watched the dark-skinned woman go.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why?”

“Cause you just let Cassie Robinson walk out of here without paying her tab.” Benny held up the slip of paper to his boss, a quirk in his brow as he stared at the frowning man. Dean took the slip from between Benny’s fingers and ripped it in half. “Wow, I’ve been working with you for over ten years and I have never seen you tear up a bar tab.”

“Ah, she’s just down on her luck. Mark my words, Benny, someday Cassie Robinson is gonna change the world.” Dean patted his buddy’s shoulder and walked off to make sure his employees began their closing duties for the night. He slipped off his jacket as he set out to help clear the tables and go through some of the night's paperwork. He was leaning against the bar, rifling through his mail when the doors opened, revealing the long legs of Miss Hanscum. The club owner pushed off the bar and made his way to stop her before she could get too far inside.

“Sorry, but we’re closed.” He breathed out as he came up the three stairs to the foyer.

“I know,” she smiled. “My car broke down.”

“Right, so you can lure me outside and Fergus and his goons can work me over.” Dean cocked his head, stopping a safe distance from the woman before putting his hands into his pockets. He straightened his shoulders. “No thanks.”

As Dean turned to leave, Donna raised her voice, “Fergus isn’t with me.” she cast her eyes down to where her feet were planted, the silver of the straps a sharp contrast to the dark tile below. Dean turned back to her, an incredulous look in his eye. He did not believe the lady standing in front of him. He had seen all too well with his own eyes the things that those two got up to. “Promise.”

The two stared at each other for a second, though it felt like minutes to Dean. Donna had a glint in her eye that was making his stomach churn, but there was something about the upturn in her smile that calmed the storm inside him. For some reason, he believed her. “Let me grab my coat.”

Donna led Dean outside to the street just in front of the Imperium as he slipped his hat onto his head. A sleek black Mercedes Benz was parked right against the curb, identical to all the others that the MacLeod legion used. He assumed it was a loaner for her.

“Let me see what I can do, I’m not really the mechanic type,” He drawled as he lifted the hood to the car. The tall man bent over the engine, peering inside and fiddling with some things that seemed out of place to him. “The advancement of these things is amazing. How much did this set you back?”

“Oh hundreds,” Donna leaned against the cool metal, watching as Dean’s white button-down stretched over the muscles of his arms. Dean smiled to himself, knowing damn well this woman next to him had no clue how much the car in front of him truly cost. “What about you? What do you drive?”

“I don’t, not ready to give up on old fashion walking.” Dean turned to catch her eye as he finally succumbed to the fact that he truly had no idea what he was doing. A silence fell between the pair for only a moment before Donna spoke.

“You know, no one has ever stood up to Fergus like that before,” Her words were nothing more than observation but even she couldn’t hide the curiosity that lingered beneath them.

“That right?”

“Mhmm, and to be perfectly honest, I think that confrontation made him respect you. That’s how he judges people, you know, are they weak or are they strong? It’s his way.” Donna turned her back to where Dean was puzzling at the engine of the car, her gaze off in the distance down the road.

“It’s not my way. I’m a kind man unless you give me a reason to be otherwise.” Donna turned to look at him as he stood up straight, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. A bashful smile replaced his serious face, “I’m sorry, my Uncle Bobby was the mechanic in the family.” Dean reached above his head and closed the hood of the car.

“It’s okay, leave it. But you wouldn’t mind a good old fashioned walk home, would you?” Donna mocked his earlier tone, offering him back his coat that she held in her arms.

“Sure,” Dean slipped the coat on, stumbling over his next words. “I can do that, where do you live?”

Donna peered behind her, her eyes going south down the main road in Lawrence. “That way.”

“Alright,” Dean agreed, coming to walk next to her as the pair made their way down the street.

The moon was high in the night sky as they made their way out of the sleeping town. There were no other pedestrians on the street as they reached the bridge on the outskirts of town, the last obstacle before leaving Lawrence. The string of lights hung along the white bridge, bringing the wooden walkway to life in the night.

“I don’t know how I feel about the war,” Donna mused as Dean watched his feet moving against the aging wood. “I mostly just worry about our boys. I could fight you know, or be a nurse. What do you think?”

“I guess,” Dean hummed. Donna wanted more out of Dean than one-word answers. The man that had always been an enigma to the young blonde. He had taken up duty looking after his city when his Daddy died and he did it well. It was like she had said, no one had ever stood up to Fergus as he had, not even John Winchester.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” She blurted out, hoping to God that he didn’t leave her alone on that bridge in her idiocy.

“I don’t think I know you well enough yet to say something like that.”

“Well, you certainly don’t talk much yourself. Why would you agree to walk me home if you weren’t going to talk?”

“Not much of the gabbing type.” Dean’s voice was even as the woman pushed him. Sure he had agreed to walk her home, but he wasn’t ready to open up his heart to the woman. After all, the only thing he was sure of was she worked for MacLeod. That meant that she was a threat.

“What’s a girl got to do for some interesting conversation?”

“Fine,” Dean stopped his trajectory and adjusted the hat on his head. Donna continued on a half step before she noticed he had stopped. She turned to look at him, the deep look in his eyes making her smile falter. “Tell me, why do you associate yourself with a guy like MacLeod? He’s scum. Everybody knows the types of things he gets into. People disappear around him. And yet, you let him own you.”

“Nevermind,” Donna husked out, a grimace now on her face.

“Oh no, now you said you wanted to talk. Here I am walking you home, against his wishes I’m sure. I’d just like to know.” Dean shook his head at the woman as she attempted to evade the conversation she had started.

“It’s a long story,”

Dean looked off to the road ahead of them, “I’ve got time.”

“I was in love once, Doug was my whole life. But he was also an idiot... and a dog. He got into trouble with Fergus, money trouble, and I being a naive young lady threw myself on the fire to save him.” Donna admitted without hesitation. It felt better than she could ever explain to tell someone how far she had fallen. The pair continued towards their destination as she explained to him the turmoils of her life.

“You’re a slave,” Dean stated.

“I’m an employee,” she tried to correct him but even she didn’t believe her own words.

“Call it whatever you like, a dog is still a dog.” Dean was fighting every instinct in his body telling him to reach out and touch her, instead choosing to ball his hands up inside his pockets.

“What is a girl supposed to do? I laid my life on the line for a man that ran off as soon as he thought he was free of me. I haven’t been free for most of my life.” Donna explained, the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

“I’m not sure if you expect me to help you with that,” Dean worried.

“I’ve made my bed, Dean. More than anything I need to feel the freedom of the wind in my hair, but I can’t expect anyone but myself to do that for me. I don’t need some-”

“You are,” Dean interrupted her tirade.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Earlier you asked me if you were pretty. You are.” The pair locked eyes as he said the words aloud. “But it’s your heart that makes you beautiful.

“Thank you,” Dean couldn’t believe himself that he had blurted out that admission. In the small amount of time it took him to walk her home she had somehow wormed her way into his heart. Maybe he bled for her a little, understanding the loss she must have been feeling, or perhaps it was the fact that he now understood every action she had ever taken since walking into Fergus’ life. Donna was a fool, but she was not a cold-hearted person. “This is me.”

Both of them stopped outside the apartment on Main street. It was just as quiet in this town as it had been in Lawrence. “No one else knows that story about Doug, not in the whole world. Just me, him, and now you.”

“I won’t say a word,” He promised. Donna gave him a soft nod back in thanks. “You know, there is a sign above the door in my club, it says ‘stay awhile, have a nightcap’. Maybe you and I could do that sometime?”

“Have a nightcap?”

“Whatever you’d like.” He mused. Donna and Dean shared playful smirks on their faces, both of them equally unsure of what had transpired though they may be for different reasons. But there was something stirring deep inside Dean’s belly, and he couldn’t have stopped his next words even if he had tried. “Would it be alright-”

“Shut up and do it already,” Donna chuckled and Dean had to shake his head at that. What more surprises could this woman possibly have in store for him tonight?

He leaned into her, Donna meeting him halfway in a pressed kiss. It was short, but it left something burning inside him. “Good night, Donna.”

Donna nodded, turning without another word to enter her home. Neither of them noticed Cassie Robinson in the shadows.

Three cars were parked across the bridge just outside of town, their engines running, ready for a quick getaway. The lights from their headlamps are the only thing illuminating the night.

“Just had to go snooping where you didn’t belong, kid. That’s what will get you killed.” MacLeod was standing in the middle of the bridge, eyeing up the scraggly reporter that was bound and stuck into a cement bucket. The henchman around him laughed at the horrendous snide, eager to appease their boss at whatever cost.

“Stop it! What is this?” Fergus turned his head as Donna came rushing towards him. One of his henchmen moved to halt her advancement. “Get your hands off me,” She shoved him aside.

“What are you doing here?”

“I followed you here. I had a feeling you were up to something, but I never fathomed…” Donna trailed off. Somewhere deep down she always knew the truly horrendous things Fergus got up to in the night, but she let herself believe it was all a lie so she could sleep at night.

“What about you? How’s Dean doing, whore?” Donna stumbled back from his words as if they had physically assaulted her.

“He killed John Winchester. I said I was on to something and I was right. He murdered him.” Garth spoke up from his confines, his mouth already bloodied. Fergus hollered to shut him up and the henchman obeyed, giving two swift punches to the gut.

“Is that true?”

“Go wait in the car!” Fergus ordered, but Donna was far too lost in her distraught, instead choosing to grab his arm.

“Is that true?!” She bellowed this time, only to be treated to a smack across her face. Donna stumbled on her heels, her hand coming up to wipe away the blood now on her lip. Fergus ordered her to the car again, looking back to his previous task. Donna took her opportunity and ran. She ran straight to the first person she could think of for help.

Dean was preparing his club for the night’s festivities when she came barreling through the door. The clicking of her heels on the tile caught both his and Benny’s attention.

“They have Garth, they’re gonna kill him.” She blurted out.

“What?”

“He found out that Fergus killed John.” Dean’s eyes went wide before his gaze was lost somewhere far off in the distance. “Dean I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

Dean was fishing for something under the bar before she could even try to explain herself. He pulled out a small gold box, flipping the lid open to reveal a single revolver. “Benny, go. Find Cas and get back here.”

“Chief, what are you doing?”

“Let’s just go,” Donna whined.

“Listen to her. Cas and I can handle this.” Benny tried to reason with his boss.

“You’ll get hurt.” Donna tried again.

“He hurt me when he took my father away from me. He’s hurt everybody, including you. He needs to be stopped once and for all.”

“Oh, Dean,” Donna’s tears were making tracks in her makeup along her cheeks as she took in the one man that could help her even if she didn’t think that she needed it.

Dean looked back at Benny, nodding for him to go before walking past Donna and out of the club. But they were too late. A car came towards them on either side of the road effectively blocking their escape plan.

Gordon climbed from the car first, “Get over here, Donna.” He ordered. “Donna now!”

“She’s with me.” Dean stood his ground, blocking Donna from the man now stalking towards them. Gordon laughed a good laugh before reaching for his pistol. Dean was faster on the draw, pulling the trigger of his revolver before Gordon even knew what had hit him. He hit the ground hard, blood soaking his gold shirt as it poured from his wound. Dean walked over, kicking Gordon’s dropped gun from his reach.

“Why does everything always have to be so messy?” The sound of a car door closing had Donna and Dean snapping their attention to the other car. Dean aimed his gun at Fergus, unrelenting in his stance against the man.

“Alright,” Fergus put up his hands and turned around, an evil smirk on his face. “Not even I would shoot a man in the back, Dean. That’s not true, I’ve shot several men in the back. Most of them deserved it, but I wouldn’t recommend you do it. Cause I have a surprise for you.”

Dean’s attention was diverted to the car door opening again, this time revealing a grim Cassie Robinson. The confusion was all it took for Dean to let his guard down for a moment, giving Fergus ample time to reveal his own weapon. Dean was forced to relent, putting his hands up and dropping his gun.

“That’s a good boy.” Fergus laughed. “Alright Miss Robinson. Finish your job and your debt is clear.” He sneered as he offered the gun in his hand to her. She took the metal weapon with shaking fingers, continuing to keep it pointed at Dean.

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Cassie, we’ve all had hard times. You don’t have to do this.” He was stepping backward away from where she was shaking.

“Yes, I do. I should have done this a long time ago.” A smile etched itself across her face before she spun around and pulled the trigger on the weapon only to be met with thundering silence.

“Yeah, I thought so,” Fergus mused. He reached out and slapped Cassie, sending her barely onto the wet concrete below. Donna gasped as he turned back to her and Dean, another gun already in his hand.

“If you want something done right-” The sound of the gun being fired rang out in the small city street. Benny threw himself onto Fergus in that same moment, not having enough time to draw his weapon before Fergus had discharged. Dean flung his weight towards his gun to point it at Fergus. Both Benny and Dean had him in their sights, guns trained on his head when a small whimper of Dean’s name had him spinning around.

Donna stood there, clutching her abdomen where warm blood was now pouring out of. “Donna?” Dean reached for just as she collapsed, both of them falling to the ground. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He tried to reassure her as her eyes no longer focused on anything. “It’s okay, you are gonna be okay.” She was gasping as she looked up at him, her body fighting to live.

“We are gonna leave, yeah, just you and me,” Dean had one hand pressed against her wound and the other was cradling her head, forcing her to look up at him as he spoke. “C’mon.”

Donna sucked in one last breath, uttering a soft exhaled “I love you,” up at the man cradling her in his arms. Dean dropped his head as the heavens opened up above him, letting down the rain that had been in the forecast all night. Her body was now limp in his arms and he no longer felt the need to fight the tears in his eyes. He leaned in to rest his forehead against hers, his eyes falling shut as he did so.

“You’re free now, Donna.” He whispered to her before a sob racked his body.

A hollered shout of his name had him snapping his head up, unaware of where the voice had come from. The thunder shook the world around before he heard it again. With the blink of his eyes, his little brother Sammy came into view, the world suddenly much brighter than it had been before.

“Dude, why do you even agree to watch movies if you are gonna fall asleep?” Sam had kicked down the footrest of Dean’s lounger. He had to blink a few more times to allow his surroundings to come back to him, the credits of the black and white film Sam had chosen for movie night still playing on the television.

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew you were gonna pic this boring shit.” Dean groaned, the reality now crashing over him. Sam frowned at his older brother before stalking off without cleaning up, leaving Dean to deal with the mess.

The eldest Winchester rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. There was this emptiness in the pit of his stomach that the dream had left behind, a nagging feeling that he knew all too well. Unfortunately for him, this wasn’t the first time Donna had found her way into his dreams, and he was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

The hunter wasn’t exactly sure when it had all started. Time had always been hazy to him, but now as he found himself lucky to live another day, time was meaningless. Maybe it was then that the plucky sheriff from Minnesota had found her way into his heart. Dean had let his guard down a long time ago, and with it went the walls around his heart. Donna had a way about her that never failed to make him laugh, and she sure knew the storms raging in his head before anyone else. Donna was a badass and everything he could see himself needing in a woman. The only problem was that he couldn’t let himself have her. Not when the universe's largest target, God himself, was out for his blood. No, she deserved far better than a broken hunter who likely won’t even be able to save himself in the end.

Dean stretched out his limbs as he climbed from his chair, his body creaking from years of abuse. The hunter couldn’t be bothered with what his brother had left in the movie room, instead, flipping the light off as he exited, his mind elsewhere as the black and white credits droned on in the now dark room.

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mummybear · 5 years ago

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Strangers In The Night - Part 1 - A Dean Winchester Short Series

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Bleeding (not graphic), kind of smut, swearing... Think that’s it!

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, OC (Veronica)

Words: 7,124

Parings: Dean Winchester X OC

Summery: After loosing her entire family she is forced to run away. Giving up hunting and she gets a small house away from everything that she’d ever known. So what will happen when two guys show up in the middle of the night, in the rain and one is hurt. She quickly realises there is something so familiar about them both, but just can’t place it.

A/N: Let me know what you guys think! I’m excited about this series, as always feedback is welcomed. :) Enjoy!!

Hunting had always been her entire life, the only thing in this messed up world that she had ever been good at, in fact, it was almost the only thing that she had ever known. However, that all changed the night that her parents were killed.

Just over four months ago Veronica had lost her entire family, who were also extremely experienced hunters. Unfortunately, that was not always a good thing, because with reputation came the enemies.

All of their running over the past few years, it had all been for nothing. The inevitable had happened, as in that line of work, it always did. Nobody was ever really safe, they had of course been found, and Veronica wasn't altogether sure whether or not, she would have been better of dying alongside her family.

As she sat alone, surrounded by the silence, in her dimly lit small one-bedroom flat. She found herself struggling to wipe the memories of her father's dying words from her mind, as he lay choking on his blood in her arms. "R-Ronnie, you need to go. You have got t-to get out of here. They will be back any s-second, I need you safe baby g-girl, run! No more hunting, s-stay under the radar, stay h-hidden. I love you, m-my angel" he had whispered, his voice a broken whisper as his hand slipped from her cheek.

Veronica remembered the way she had sobbed over his body, feeling as he went limp in her arms. She hugged her knees close to her chest as she sat on the cold floor, sobbing quietly as she looked out of the window, with only a few visible stars for her to see.

A gentle knock sounded on her front door, startling her slightly, she glanced at the clock on the wall. Quickly wondering who would be knocking at the door at this hour, she got to her feet wiping her tears on her sleeves and grabbed her gun she kept in the kitchen.

Looking through the peephole in her door she noticed a figure, maybe two but whoever it was, was being hidden by the darkness. Fighting her instincts as the hunter she had been she carefully opened the door, making sure to keep the gun hidden behind her back as she did so.

Opening the door carefully she was surprised to find it was raining, something which she had missed while gazing out of the window before. Veronica turned the light on beside the door, casting light over the faces in front of her, where she was a met by two men on hesitantly smiling at her as he held up his friend.

"Can I help you?" she asked carefully, unable to hide the edge to her voice.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late. I didn't know what to do, this is the first house I've seen" the man swallowed roughly before continuing, "A car ran us off the road, I didn't know what else to do my brother was hurt and I couldn't get any signal" the man explained in a rush, Veronica sighed, feeling bad for the man and his brother, even if she may regret it very soon.

Subtly she tucked the gun into the waistband of her sweatpants, stepping off to the side slightly to let him pass. "I'm so sorry. That's horrible, of course, come in" she replied, hauling his brother's arm over her shoulder and they both helped him over to the sofa.

"Thank you. I promise we will be gone by morning" the man swore, holding out his hand to her. "The names Dean" he smiled, she returned the smile a little uneasily, as she propped his brother up with a few more pillows.

She looked down at his hand and stumbled backwards, Dean looked at her in surprise. Quickly holding his hands up as though he was surrendering. "I, uh crap. I'm sorry, I guess I'm still a little jumpy. Not many people out here" she swallowed nervously, awkwardly stepping back towards him holding out her trembling hand, "I'm Veronica" she answers quietly, as he takes her hand carefully in his large one.

"Are you sure this is okay, we can go," Dean asked hesitantly, noticing the look on the poor woman's face.

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry if I freaked you out. Look there's nowhere for miles, I would take you guys to the hospital, but my cars at the shop" Veronica sighed, quickly realising she was still holding the man's hand.

"Thank you, sweetheart, if there is anything we can do to help. Please just let us know" Dean replied, following her gaze down to their hands. "Sorry" Dean blushed quickly releasing her hand and stepping back slightly.

Veronica shrugged, "It's okay, wasn't just you. Did you want a drink? Guess I forgot how to be normal" she laughed a little heading over and grabbing Dean a fresh towel from the basket.

Luckily his brother had remained impressively dry while Dean made his way to her house Dean, however, he hadn't been so lucky, he was completely soaked through. I'll take a beer since you're offering" Dean smiled warmly, thanking her when she handed him the warm fluffy towel.

"No problem" Veronica smiled handing him the drink, disappearing again and quickly returning with two t-shirts and two sweatpants. "Here you should change, otherwise you'll be shivering all night," Veronica said handing the clothes over to Dean. She noticed the look on his face and rushed to explain, even if he didn't think she was a murderer she wanted to clarify. "They belonged to an ex, sorry I just, I dunno, they're clean I swear. You don't have to wear them, I got some for your brother too if he wakes up soon, I mean when..." Dean stopped her with gentle hands on her shoulders, before she continues to work herself up further, not missing as a bright red blush started to cover her face.

"Woah, you're okay. Thank you, I do appreciate it. You've already done way more than enough. Where's the bathroom, I'll change before I soak your floor more than I have already" Dean smiled gently taking the clothes from her hand.

Veronica sighed in relief barely returning his smile, she was completely mortified but she showed him to the bathroom regardless.

Making her way back to the living room/kitchen she made herself a cup of coffee, turning towards the sofa when she heard a groaning noise. Putting her cup down, she carefully made her way over to the sofa where the giant of a man lay.

Before she knew what was happening the man had jumped up off of the sofa and started stalking towards her, he didn't seem like he was with it at all. His eyes were glassy, his movements a little stiff, maybe he was sleepwalking. She didn't know what was happening to her, she had completely frozen on the spot, staring at the man in front of her. Her mind was telling to scream for Dean, but nothing was working and for the first time in a long time she was terrified.

She stumbled back a little as the man got closer, knocking a glass vase on the floor when she did. Which seemed to snap everything all at once, she screamed loud and terrified as she stepped onto the now broken glass behind her, Dean came skidding into the room and his brother seemed to stumble himself a little, groaning louder than before and holding his head.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned nervously, holding up his hands as he carefully pushed himself between the pair, which was difficult with the little room remaining.

"Dean?" Sam questioned confusion, still heavy all over his face.

"Yeah, it's me. Do me a favour okay, take a few steps back buddy, you're kinda freaking out our host" Dean said calmly, walking over to Sam and helping him sit down.

"I don't understand, what happened?" Sam muttered as Dean helped him lay back down.

"Don't worry, get some rest. I'll explain in the morning" Dean assured him, patting his shoulder as he covered Sam back up.

Dean awkwardly turned back around to look at Veronica, feeling completely terrible about his oaf of a brother terrifying the poor girl. That's when he noticed the pool of blood around Veronica's feet, "Oh, son of a bitch. I am so sorry" Dean whispered worriedly, she looked ashen-faced and she was practically trembling.

"Veronica? You still with me sweetheart?" Dean asked gently, as he carefully walked towards her, but from what he could see she wasn't even registering he was there.

Suddenly she lashed out at him with her fist, as tears started to roll down her face, "Stay back! Get away from me!" she sobbed keeping her fists poised for an attack.

Dean threw up his hands, stepping back from her a little to give her some room, "I swear I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm sorry about my brother, that's not him. Look have you got any first aid in the house?" Dean asked carefully taking one step forward. She didn't move or speak and Dean sighed quietly, "Look, Sammy was in a bad accident, we were on our way back from the hospital when we were hit. So he's a little, off. But you're hurt, I can help you, only If you want and only if you let me" Dean said calmly but simply.

"I'm fine, don't need any help" she replied shortly, as she attempted to step back Dean practically jumped forward, her scream ripped through the room as Dean caught her.

Finally, Veronica looked down at the ground once Dean carefully placed her on the kitchen counter. "First aid?" Dean asked simply, trying not to smile at the look of confusion and disbelief on her face.

"B-Bathroom cabinet, just down the hall" she stuttered in reply, not meeting his gaze, simply looking down at her blood-soaked feet as he left.

"You wanna know why you didn't feel anything, huh?" Dean questioned tipping her chin up with his finger, their eyes meeting as he did so. She just simply nodded looking a little dumbfounded. "It's mostly to do with your adrenaline kicking into overdrive, but honestly, it looked like you kinda went somewhere for a minute there" Dean explained, grabbing the items he needed from the first aid box, watching as she just nodded again.

"So, where do you guys live?" Veronica asked, trying to distract herself from what she knew was about to come.

Dean stalled a little as he dropped down onto his knees in front of her, "Here and there" Dean answered vaguely, causing Veronica to frown at the answer.

"Dean, come on. Help a girl out, I'm trying to distract myself here" she sighed feeling a little helpless as he gently took one of her feet in his hands.

"Fair enough. Guess I at least owe you a distraction. Lawrence Kansas, we've got a place together there" Dean explained still not in too much detail. The less she knew the better.

"Any other family?" she asked with a wince as Dean pulled a rather large shard of glass from the heel of her foot. Jumping forward a little she almost fell off of the counter but caught herself on Dean's shoulders, her nails sinking into the soft t-shirt he was wearing.

"Steady there Rambo, might wanna watch those nails of yours too" Dean laughed, winking at her as he helped her to sit back properly before he continued, she smiled down at him despite herself, "No not anymore, just my little brother" Dean chuckled briefly looking over at the lump on the sofa behind them. "How about you?" Dean questioned, trying to keep the conversation flowing.

"Nope, just me. They're all gone, mom, brother and dad. All on my own." Veronica stated sadly, pushing back her tears that were easily pulled to the surface.

"Shit, I'm sorry Veronica. How long?" he asked, though he was sure he knew that it hadn't been that long at all.

Veronica swallowed the lump in her throat, completely forgetting about the glass currently being removed from her foot, a humourless laugh left her lips before she finally answered him, "No, not long at all. They were all killed, someone from our past found us. Long story short, they died, I didn't" she stated simply, as Dean wrapped her feet carefully in the soft bandages from the kit.

Dean looked up at her a little shocked but he nodded, knowing that he shouldn't ask any more about that one, at least not for a while. "There, all done," Dean said smiling awkwardly as he got to his feet.

Veronica grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving, Dean didn't move he simply looked at her waiting for her to ask whatever it was she was waiting for. "Thank you, Dean" she sighed, grateful for his help and for being able to talk to someone. Carefully leaning forward and surprising him when she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Dean swallowed hard, looking into her eyes and grabbed the tablets from the side, "Least I could do. My fault anyhow. Here, take these, they should help" he muttered distractedly, pressing the pills into her outstretched hand.

"Thanks" Veronica smiled, grabbing his beer from the side and taking a swig to wash down the pills. Dean edged closer taking the bottle from her, as she licked her lips he found himself looking away.

"Would you mind, helping me to bed?" Veronica asked quietly, Dean simply nodded wrapping an arm around her shoulders, while the other hooked under her legs. Feeling a little tired all of a sudden Veronica rested her head on Dean's shoulder, nuzzling into his neck she felt him shiver and swallow against her.

Veronica smiled sleepily, wrapping her arms around his neck, as if she wanted to pull him closer somehow, it was off though, she was feeling somehow comfortable around this man already.

As Dean laid her down on the bed, she tried to pull him with her keeping a tight hold on his neck, Dean chuckled at her groaning protest. "Stay, Dean" she muttered sleepily, Dean smiled down at her pulling the covers up over her.

The thought emerged that she reminded him of someone, he just couldn't place who it was as he handed her a large pillow she quickly snuggled into it.

Slowly backing out of the room Dean turned out the light, heading back over to the spare sofa beside Sam, who had changed at some point now wearing the clothes Veronica had brought them in. Locking the door Dean laid down on the sofa finally, doing his best to get comfortable, it didn't take him long to fall asleep.

Veronica woke up the next morning wincing at the pull and stretch in her feet, she groaned looking over at the bed beside her, sighing with relief that she didn't do something stupid.

She fought with herself to rid the clothes of last night from her body, once that was finally done Veronica grabbed her shorts and t-shirt from the end of the bed. The ones that she was supposed to wear for bed last night. A whimper left her throat when she finally let her feet lower onto the wood floor. Doing her best to ignore the pain, she awkwardly pushed her feet into her slippers.

After a few awkward stumbles, Veronica finally managed to get to her feet and shuffle over to her bedroom door. She listened for a moment, not hearing anything she finally stepped out into her living room. Where she was surprised to find both men were still there, but they were also still asleep.

Staying light on her feet as she could manage, she set about making them all some breakfast, nothing fancy just bacon sandwiches and coffee. Quickly becoming aware of the lack of glass, Dean must have cleaned it up after taking her to bed.

Leaving the bacon to cook she walked over to the sofa Dean was on, noticing that his covers had slipped off at some point, she carefully draped them over him again.

But before she could back away he grabbed her wrist, a little harsh at first until his eyes adjusted to the morning sun that burst through the window, then he let her go when he saw her. "Mornin' sweetheart" he groaned huskily, scrubbing a hand over his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Just making some breakfast, you hungry?" she asked kindly, looking over at Sam who began to shift, she swallowed her nerves focusing back on Dean.

"God that smells good. You're awesome" Dean grinned, shifting on the sofa so that he was sitting.

Veronica rolled her eyes with a smile, not missing the messy hair he was sporting, of course, she would be lying to say she didn't like it. It even distracted her a little more than she would like to admit, shaking herself from her daydream, she remembered what she was going to say. "So, uh. Is a bacon sandwich okay with you? Well, with both of you?" Veronica asked nervously looking over at Sam again.

"Perfect" Dean grinned before following her eyes, to where she was looking nervously, landing on his brother. "Hey," Dean said quietly gently touching her arm, causing Veronica to finally look at him. "I swear he's a teddy bear. You have nothing to worry about at all" Dean promised, with a gentle squeeze of her arm before he let her go again.

Veronica nodded at Dean, visibly relaxing a little when Sam rolled back over again, not saying another word to Dean she headed back over to the hob. Finishing off the sandwich, Veronica handed Dean a fully loaded plate with a smile.

"Thanks, so how're the feet feeling?" Dean asked quietly, taking the plate from her, shifting a little on the sofa so she could sit beside him.

Shrugging Veronica Turned to face Dean, "Yeah, getting there. Thanks for cleaning up, and you know. Carrying me to bed last night" she smiled kindly, trying to hide the blush forming on her cheeks she ducked her head a little.

Dean chuckled just about managing to swallow his mouthful of food. "Least I could do" Dean smiled back.

"Crap, I completely forgot the guy from the garage is supposed to bringing my car back this morning, I should go change" Veronica frowned in annoyance at her wall clock.

"You gonna be okay? Need a hand with anything?" Dean mumbled around his mouthful of food, nodding at her feet.

Veronica almost choked on thin air, "Seriously Dean!" she laughed, pushing herself up onto her feet a little awkwardly.

Dean's eyes widened as he seemed to finally understand how that came across. "Shit! I, uh. Not what I meant, I swear" he muttered awkwardly. A thought seemed to cross his mind and he met her eyes, "Unless..." Dean smirked suggestively with a wink.

"Grab the door if he comes" she laughed walking away and did her best to ignore his comment.

As she walked gingerly into her bedroom, Veronica couldn't help but notice that her feet didn't feel altogether too bad, at least not as much as she expected.

She let her mind wander back to Dean as she closed her bedroom door, the thing that she found so strange was that he didn't feel like a stranger at all, but she couldn't figure out why.

Rummaging around her draws she found something acceptable to wear. Tossing her jeans and t-shirt on her bed she hobbled over to sit on the edge of the bed.

Leaving her jeans until last she swapped her PJ top for a plain red t-shirt and black bra. Sighing in annoyance for what was to come, she quickly and successfully tugged off her shorts and grabbed the jeans from beside her.

A squeak of pain left her lips when she thankfully managed to get the first leg in, however, she wasn't so lucky the second time around, as attempted to put the second leg through her covers slipped from the bed causing her to fall off the edge of the bed a loud squeal of surprise leaving her lips. "Oh, come on!" she groaned to herself, staring up at the ceiling.

To her surprise her door burst open seconds later, making her jump a little as the door swung open a little further it revealed a worried-looking Dean. "Well this is dignified" she huffed, tugging her duvet the rest of the way from the bed to cover herself.

"Doin' okay down there sweetheart?" Dean asked, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded, but she didn't miss the hint of a laugh in his voice.

Veronica rolled her eyes as she poked the top of her head out from under the duvet. "Just don't" she mumbled, although she was smiling if nothing else at the look on his face.

"Need some help now?" Dean laughed now, stepping into the room.

She looked up at him accepting defeat. "Please, but just shut your eyes okay," she told him shyly.

"Uh, yeah. Okay, sure" Dean replied nervously, as he helped her stand with her duvet still gripped tight around her.

She practically stumbled into his arms, falling over the duvet, as it slipped from her grasp Dean caught her easily, his grip tightened on her as she clung to him but he clamped his eyes closed.

"W-What do you need me to do?" Dean asked sounding a little nervous, Veronica made the mistake of looking up at him as he licked his lips. She swallowed hard, leaning on him with one hand on his shoulder.

Her other hand took his. Her eyes still on his face as she placed his hand on the more stubborn side of the jeans. "J-Just help me pull them up, okay" she practically whispered, voice practically dying towards the end of the sentence, as she watched him pull his full pink bottom lip between his teeth.

"Sure, I-I can do that" Dean replied his voice a little deeper than before. As he tugged her body practically jumped closer to him and she audibly squeaked.

"Thanks" she breathed letting go of him to do them up, Dean kept a firm grip on her waist as she did so. "You can look now" she muttered, still looking up at his face, as his eyes opened she felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

"How'd you get this?" Dean questioned, his voice a husky whisper as his thumb brushed across the scar on her chin.

The unexpected question caught her by surprise, his soft touch even more so. "I was probably 5, I was playing with my best friend in a junkyard. Slipped and cut it open on some metal sticking out of an old junker, he did always say I fell over my own feet" she revealed just as quietly, still looking up at him.

"Yeah, you never did listen, Ronnie" he murmured, hand moving to cup her jaw.

Her eyes went wide and she stumbled, pushing out of his grip. "Nobody calls me that. Not anymore" she practically growled, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

"I knew I recognised you. Just couldn't place you" Dean murmured, taking a step closer. But she wasn't letting him get close as she practically jumped backwards.

"You can't be here, you need to go" she panicked, her heart thumping hard in her chest. She was so stupid, how could she have let them in, how didn't she recognise them.

"Wait why? What is it?" Dean asked suddenly worried about her.

"It doesn't matter, I'll help you get to your car and get it fixed. After that you need to go, both of you" she rushed out, pushing past him and rushing into the living room.

"No wait R..." he tried but she turned to him so fast he almost fell back.

"I said do not fucking call me that!" Veronica all but screamed, her fist almost colliding with his face but Dean caught it, pulling her closer using that arm.

"Would you just calm the fuck down! Talk to me, what the hell is going on with you?" Dean questioned, worry lacing his tone as he grabbed her by the biceps and pulled her close.

Veronica stared up at him with wide shocked eyes, completely avoiding his gaze. "Veronica, please. I'm sorry. Just look at me" Dean breathed shakily, sighing gently when she slowly looked up at him.

Dean's grip on her arms relaxed a little when he noticed just how hard he had grabbed her. "I just can't do this Dean, you and Sam you can't be near me. It isn't safe" she whispered sadly, a tear slipping down her cheek.

"We can help. Whatever it is, we're staying. At least until you feel safe again" Dean answered, releasing one of her arms and cupping her cheek gently, wiping the lone tear from her cheek.

"No Dean, You can't, you don't understand" she muttered, becoming a little distracted by his lips when his tongue darted across them again.

"I don't care. I still remember the last day I saw you. We were down by the lake, sitting on that rock, the one where we first met. You were crying because we were leaving you again. Do you remember what I said to you?" Dean questioned his voice shaking a little, as his thumb continued to brush the now flowing tears from her cheek.

Veronica couldn't believe it was him, but there was nobody else in the world that knew this story, simply the two of them. She nodded quickly, her hand resting on his chest. "I was only fourteen, those few weeks that we could see each other every six months, they were my best days. Of course, I remember, you said that we would find each other again. That I would always be..." Veronica said her voice trialling off towards the end, as Dean edged close his hand moving from her arm to grip her hip.

"My girl, my dream that I never let come true" Dean finished her sentence, thumb brushing over her lips and Veronica could swear her heart was about to thump out of her chest. Their noses gently bumped against one another, breaths mingling and their bodies impossibly close.

Then suddenly there was a knock at the door, just about managing to snap them out of their trance. "I-I should get that" she breathed shakily, their lips almost touching.

"I uh, yeah. Okay, sure" Dean murmured, not making any move to let her go or move. Then again neither did she, she was transfixed by his eyes, terrified that if she took her eyes off of him again he would disappear. Then there was another knock, this one slightly more impatient.

"Go, it's okay. Not going anywhere" Dean smiled releasing her, she had almost forgotten why she had wanted him to in the first place.

Veronica smiled at Dean as she stepped back and answered the door, "Hey, all fixed?" she asked, gently wiping the forgotten tears from her face.

The young guy looked up at her with a frown, "Everything okay miss?" he asked, attempting to step inside.

"Woah, sad film. Get back please" she exclaimed pulling the door shut tighter beside her, so she was the only thing visible.

The guy just shrugged with a smile he handed her the keys, "Should do the job" he smirked, he was seriously creeping her out right now. As if Dean could sense something was wrong she felt him behind her, a hand slung across her shoulders, as he pulled her into the safety of his body.

"Didn't know you had a man?" the guy frowned as if he were being put out somewhat.

"Excuse me? Why the hell would you?" she question suspiciously, as Dean's grip tightened on her.

"Yeah well she does, so if that's everything you should leave" Dean muttered stiffly, his voice on its own practically a warning all of its own.

"No problem" the man grinned, stepping back and heading back over to his car. "Be seeing you, pretty girl" he winked climbing into his car, Veronica felt a shiver run up her spine, not like the one she felt when Dean winked at her, this one it made her blood run cold there was something very wrong with this guy.

Veronica felt as Dean stiffened beside her, his hands turning into fists, she quickly closed the door before Dean could do anything rash. "Well, there was something wrong with him" Veronica tried to joke, as Dean walked around her and headed over to Sam.

"Very wrong" Dean agree voice still holding a very stiff tone, Dean got down onto his knees beside his brother, "Sammy, you doin' okay?" Dean asked gently shaking his brother, Sam groaned and slapped at his hand.

"Okay, take it someone isn't ready to wake up then" Dean chuckled, getting back to his feet, "Hey, I was wondering could you give me a ride to my car?" Dean asked her, grabbing his coat and a pen and paper from the side. Quickly scribbling Sam a note he turned back to the side pocketing his car keys.

"Yeah, of course," Veronica replied slipping on her shoes. As they headed outside she made sure to double bolt her door, keeping Sam as safe as possible inside.

"Earth to Veronica!" Dean laughed, waving his hands in front of her face. She had faded out a little, staring worriedly at the door.

"Sorry, guess that guy just freaked me out. You sure we should leave Sam here?" she questioned, looking through her window at the lanky man sprawled across her largest sofa.

"We won't be gone too long, I can fix everything myself, nobody touches my baby except me. Besides Sammy can handle himself" Dean assured her, as she finally gave in and they headed over to her car, which still looked pretty beat up.

"Sounds like you" Veronica mumbled looking over at him with a small smile. "So where did you leave her?" she asked, a grin forming when she noticed the look on Dean's face. "Dude you called the car baby! I wasn't about to say it, you'd probably kill me" she laughed, Dean agreed. Quickly joining the laugh soon after.

"See this is the reason you're my best friend, you get me" Dean grinned, although he seemed to be joking around Veronica could hear he was serious, which made her smile.

As Veronica pulled out of her parking space, Dean began to direct her to where his car was.

As they came to final corner Dean told her to pull over, she did so but with a frown. "Dean, this is a bad area. We really should be careful" Veronica muttered quietly as he got out of the car.

Dean turned to her leaning on the roof of the car, looking down into the car at her. "You should stay here sweetheart, what with your feet. I promise I'll be careful. Just honk if you see anything off" Dean told her, careful not to worry her as he jogged the short distance to her car.

"Surprised you didn't say something else then" Veronica called half laughing as she watched him go.

"I won't lie wasn't easy!" Dean shouted back, connecting his car with hers so that they could tow it back to the house. Veronica laughed as she watched him work, somethings never changed.

Once the job was done Dean gave her the thumbs up, before jumping in the front seat and taking the handbrake off. They were both just thankful nobody had jumped out, the ride home was much quieter and stranger than Veronica had expected. It was like she was already used to having him beside her again.

Thankfully there were no problems with either car on the way back to the house, as they pulled up outside coming to a gentle stop Dean hopped out making quick work of disconnecting the cars once again. Veronica quickly pulled her car into the garage, leaving room for the impala in the driveway.

As the garage door closed behind her she watched Dean manoeuvre his baby into the parking space. "Need anything?" Veronica asked, rounding the car almost bumping into him as he pulled off his flannel, leaving him in just a tight black wife beater, she had to chew on her lip to stop herself reacting audibly to this one.

"I'm good thanks sweetheart" Dean smiled, grabbing a tool bag from the backseat, and she couldn't help but think how unfair it was that anyone's ass looked that good in jeans.

"Oh, okay cool. I'm just gonna go, you know. Check on Sam" Veronica muttered awkwardly, almost stumbling away from him not waiting for a reply.

Unbolting the door, she carefully stepped inside to find Sam sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands. "Hey, everything okay?" Veronica asked nervously, carefully making her way over to the sofa.

Sam looked up from the floor, a sad expression on his face. "I'm so sorry, I was out of it last night" he muttered worriedly, standing up with his hands up. Veronica smiled, remembering tiny Sammy, who used to follow his big brother everywhere.

"We should talk Sam" she smiled sitting on the sofa beside him, surprising him further, but he took a seat regardless.

"Where's Dean?" Sam questioned, sounding a little suspicious.

Veronica laughed at the look on his face, unable to help it, "Hey, he's good, I swear. Just took him to get his baby, he's just outside now" She assured him, visibly watching his entire body relax.

"Okay sorry again." Sam smiled, "So, I don't even know your name. What did you want to talk about?" he asked curiously, looking like a confused puppy.

"So this isn't the first time we've met. You were a hell of a lot smaller before. You might not remember, my name is Veronica" she revealed, watching Sam's face change for what felt like the tenth time in five minutes.

"No way. V?" Sam asked, his hands darting for hers. She grinned back at him, squeezing his hand as a tear ran down her cheek. "I'm listening," Sam said quickly, Veronica got comfortable as she explained everything to him, leaving out the part about how her parents died and the whole demon thing.

An hour or so had passed as she sat there with Sam, talking about the past and their shared days that Sam remembered anyway. "I should just go check on Dean, wanna come?" Veronica asked sweetly, gingerly standing from the sofa.

Sam stood with her and helped her steady herself. "You mind if I grab a shower, meet you out there?" Sam asked still smiling.

"Sure thing big guy, towels are in the bathroom. Guess you know where that is by now" she said pointing to the vague direction of the bathroom. Sam nodded in agreement, but she noticed the hint of bitch face. "Explain the face" she laughed, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Just, don't call me that" he laughed.

"Yeah but you are a big guy now!" she laughed back as Sam headed for the bathroom.

"Yeah, yeah!" Sam called back, she smiled rolling her eyes as she grabbed Dean a cold beer from the fridge. Heading outside she almost tripped down the step.

"Damn" she mumbled to herself, hoping he wouldn't hear her, but of course, as usual, he heard every damn thing she said when she didn't want him too. He was covered in grease and sweat and nobody had ever looked sexier.

"Can I help ya, sweetheart?" Dean laughed, turning to look at her, wiping his hands on his flannel. He ran a hand through his hair as he approached her with a smile.

Veronica's mouth was slightly hanging open and she knew it, but part of her didn't give a shit. "Sam's up, got you a beer" she mumbled distractedly, as he got closer.

"You're a lifesaver" Dean groaned happily, taking the drink from her hand. She watched transfixed, his lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle and he took a long glug of it, the stretch of his neck the muscles contracting as he swallowed, god she had to get away from this man he was about to be the death of her.

"Are you done. You know with the car?" she questioned trying to push away the shake in her voice, but she failed miserably.

Dean smirked pulled the bottle away from his mouth, placing it on the hood of the impala. "Why you miss me" he grinned advancing on her a smug look on his face.

"Yeah. I did" she replied surprising him. Also, it made her a little more confident, 'fuck it' she thought to herself, two can play at this game.

The look on her face made her smile. She stepped towards him, pressing her body tightly against his.

Reaching behind him she grabbed his bottle, keeping her eyes locked with his as she copied his earlier movements. Making a small change she slowed it down, she watched Dean swallow hard as her plump lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle, she tipped the bottle back inwardly sighing happily at the taste.

Placing bottle back behind him she made him bump into the car, she licked her lips clean of the beer and looked up at him, "You miss me?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah, every day" Dean replied, his voice completely changed, raw and rougher than she had heard it.

"Good" she smirked, "I'm ordering pizza. You hungry?" she asked glancing down for a moment, well that was a mistake she groaned to herself as she looked back up at him. Her confidence wavering for a moment, but Dean didn't seem to notice, he was still staring at her mouth.

"Oh yeah. I'm hungry" Dean replied sounding a little like a growl, there was that voice of his again, setting her every nerve on fire.

"Okay good" she muttered, swallowing around the lump in her throat as she back away from him, quickly heading inside in search of her phone.

Making the pizza order didn't take too long and Sam was soon out of the shower and swapping with Dean. Sam made sure to thank Veronica for the clean clothes. "Wanna pick a film, Sam?" Veronica asked handing him the remote, as she grabbed some more beer from the fridge and placed them on the coffee table.

"Sure" Sam smiled flicking through Netflix, suddenly there was a big bang from the bathroom, Veronica darted over to see what had happened without a second thought, with Sam hot on her heels.

"Dean!" Veronica shouted as she ran into the bathroom to investigate.

"Son of a bitch" Dean shouted as he was almost knocked out by the door, just about managing to jump out of the way in time.

Sam laughed when he quickly realised Dean had just been poking around and knocked a few things over, "Classy as always Dean!" Sam called already heading back to the sofa.

"Care to explain?" Veronica laughed folding her arms across her chest, doing her best to ignore the fact that Dean was standing in front of her in nothing but a towel, dripping wet as the steam still poured from his body.

"I-I well I was curious" Dean reasoned, shrugging when he noticed that she wasn't upset.

As much as she tried to ignore him, it was like ignoring a damn fire burning in front of her. "Fine, just cover up" she laughed, turning to leave, but Dean caught her arm just as the door closed behind her.

"You sure about that?" Dean asked his words dripping in sex, his breath fanning across her face, he smelled amazing, he was so close that she was finding it hard to breathe.

"No. Not really" She answered honestly, as Dean backed her up against the bathroom door. Veronica dared to let her eyes follow a bead of water as it ran down his body, disappearing into his towel. Swallowing hard she looked back up at him, "Want me to go?" she asked breathlessly.

"No. Not really" he replied, a hand cupping her cheek as his thumb ran over her bottom lip. Her heart was hammering a thousand times a second in her chest when their eyes met again. She let one of her shaking hands run up his body, resting over his heart not missing the tattoo but not paying much attention.

Her other hand ran up into his hair, as his hand did the same to her, tugging her hair gently so that their lips were a centimetre apart. "Need you, Dean" she breathed against his lips.

"You have no idea baby girl" Dean groaned, finally pressing his lips against hers. Veronica swore she could see stars and fireworks, the whole shebang. His lips were soft, perfectly covering hers as his tongue slipped between her lips. She didn't fight him, she let him lead the kiss.

Dean growled into her mouth as she hooked a leg over his hip, he fought to pull her impossibly closer. Doing his best not to fuck her against the door. Veronica moaned his name into his mouth, his hardness pressing against her rock hard even through his towel and her jeans.

Her nails dug into his scalp, as the hand that had once been cupping her jaw now roughly palmed at her ass, as he started to grind against her. Dean pulled back from the kiss to let her breathe, but he didn't stop, he wasn't sure that he could.

He was all teeth and tongue as he made his way along her jaw and down her neck, her head slammed back against the door as she panted heavily, unable to stop herself breathing his name like a chant.

"Guys, pizza's here!" Sam called from the living room, Veronica burst out laughing as Dean's forehead collided with the bathroom door.

"The man should be a god damn professional at this" he grumbled, placing soft kisses along her shoulder.

"What professional cock block" Veronica laughed, as Dean stepped back and pulled her in for another kiss, both hands cupping her cheeks. She gently pressed against his chest.

"We can talk later" she assured him, "I'll get changed" she laughed looking down at her soaked jeans.

"Okay, later" Dean grinned, smacking her ass as she left the room.

Oh yeah, they definitely had a lot to talk about now!

Tags: @lettersofwrittencollective @chewie-redbird @lusyschwa @julzdec @fandom-princess-forevermore

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katehuntington · 6 years ago

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Title: I Can See Clearly Now Fandom: Supernatural (season 1) Characters: Dean Winchester (POV), Sam Winchester, Y/N Pairing: Dean x female feader Words: ± 5550 words Description: After a falling out, the Winchester brothers are on the road trying to find Y/N, who has taken on hunts alone. Then Dean gets a disturbing phone call and he needs to move fast if he wants to save the her life. Warnings: Angst! Adult language, canon typical violence, description of blood and injury. Speeding/on the phone while driving. Panic, crying. Description of medical procedures. Possible character death. Author’s note: This is a rewrite from an earlier one shot. I changed it to Dean’s point of view and I hope it captivates you all even more! Thank you, @mrswhozeewhatsis for being my super skilled Beta and helping me with this story. Thanks to you it really came full circle.

“I just don’t understand why you can’t pick up the phone and call her.” I ignore Sam, keeping my gaze fixed on the road ahead, as raindrops run up the windshield, trying to find the way of least resistance. Unintentionally, I clench my jaw, after which I sigh, frustrated. It’s not the first time he brought it up. Apparently my pain in the ass little brother can’t take a hint. You would assume that ‘college boy’ is able to pick up on my annoyed glares and awkward silences, or maybe he just chooses to dismiss them. I’m not sure which one is more stupid.

Trying to come off as casual and uninterested, I stare past the window wipers, which squeak every time the blades unblurs the glass. Then I shake my head slightly, both disagreeing and as a warning. “We talked about this. I’m not calling her,” I state. “She made it clear that she needs to be alone.” “Are you that blind?! Don’t you know her by now?!” Sam exclaims. “No, I don’t, Sam! How can I if she keeps lying all the time?!” I can’t help but to raise my voice and I bite my tongue afterwards. It happens a lot these days, that I’m unable to keep my emotions in check, especially now that she ran for the hills.

Over the last couple of months, Sammy and I grew closer to the young huntress, closer than we should have. Not that she made it easy for us, because she acted like a total bitch at first. In the beginning I thought she hated my guts, with her fighting me on every decision I made. But fate would have it that when shit hit the fan, Sam and I were there to catch her. So we teamed up and hunted together. The Three Stooges, the Musketeers. The good, the bad, and the ugly, Sam being the ugly one of course. We became more than just colleagues, more than just acquaintances. We became friends; we became family.

I let that fundamental word echo through my mind as I ponder. It means a hell of a lot; I don’t go around calling anyone that. You gotta earn that title. Bobby Singer once told me, ‘Family don’t end in blood.’ I don’t think I fully understood what he meant, until Y/N became a part of our team. Sammy found a sister he never knew he wanted, a study buddy, a fellow nerd who he could get excited with over serial killer hauntings and prehistoric books.

And I... I found someone I never expected to find: someone who brings out the best in me and makes me feel things I thought I wouldn’t be capable of, not after all the literal horror I’ve witnessed in my lifetime of hunting. I found a goofy kid who laughs at my lame jokes, a girl with an appetite of a trucker and the ability to drink me under the table. I found a rock chick who loves Zep and AC/DC and adores my car as much as I do. I found the woman who puts family first, is kind and generous, and never ceases to help others in need.

You know what? I’m just gonna say it: I found the woman I’m in love with.

Things were good between us. It must have been a month ago when I first kissed her. I downed five shots before I could muster up the courage, and still I found shooting a charging werewolf the night before less scary. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve kissed plenty of girls, but she isn’t just any chick. This was Y/N, and I really didn’t want to fuck it up. We hooked up several times, and it was always either epic or awesome. Despite that we were taking it easy, I fell hard for her. Deep down, I always had this itch that she didn’t tell me the whole story. There was something she kept hidden. Little things gave her away. Short, almost unnoticeable hesitations. Starting a sentence by questioningly calling my name, and then dismissing it with a ‘never mind’. I never really pushed her, figuring that she would tell me when she was ready. It never got to that point, though. A week ago, the unthinkable happened.

After almost a year of searching, the one person who we’ve been looking for stepped into our motel room: Dad. But the air in the room changed the second he laid eyes on Y/N, who didn’t hesitate to pull her gun on him. After a heated discussion with weapons drawn like in an old spaghetti western, the truth finally surfaced. Apparently Dad was working with Y/N’s parents, when a plan backfired and killed them both. Even though Dad was her guardian, he left Y/N at an orphanage. Since then, she had made it her life-long mission to get revenge. The easiest way to find Dad was to latch on to his sons. Every hunter has a justification to sign up for this life; John Winchester was hers.

“She had a reason,” Sammy mentions, as if he could tell what was on my mind just now. “You mean Dad?” I assume with a tone. “He shouldn’t have left her like that. That’s all I’m saying.” A silence follows as we both continue to stare into the darkness beyond Baby’s headlights. “No, he shouldn’t have,” I agree, after several quiet seconds. Surprised by that conclusion, Sam frowns. I can almost hear him thinking: did Dean just admit that Dad did something wrong? “I’m not saying that what she did was a-okay. She still used us,” I correct. “I don’t think she did,” my younger brother disagrees. “Y/N desperately tried to stay away from us, remember that? She was mean, you two were clawing each other’s eyes out...” The both of us smile faintly at that. “But somehow, we still stuck together, and it’s a good thing we did, because we all would have ended up dead without each other.”

Sammy isn’t wrong there. Even two weeks ago, Y/N only just saved me from getting hanged by a poltergeist in an old hotel in Gold Canyon, Arizona. I remember waking up in the dust, noose still around my neck and her beautiful face above me, scared tears in her eyes after which she kissed me deeply.

“Y/N wants us there, Dean,” Sam snaps me from my thoughts. “We need to back her up.” “She’s the one who left, Sam,” I remind him, burdened. A semi rushes by on the other lane. Its headlights blind me and illuminate Sam’s face, after which the light fades again as the Mack passes. The wipers shoot from right to left and back, offering me some kind of visual.

“She thinks we’re still mad. She held Dad at gunpoint. I kinda get why she doesn’t think we can get back to how things were.” “Who says we can?” I bring to mind. Sam stares at me, his jaw dropped. “You’re still holding a grudge? Seriously? He left her at a fucking orphanage, Dean! She grew up in seven different foster homes!” “Does Dad sound like the kinda person who would just up and leave a kid he was responsible for?” I argue, feeling the anger starting to boil again. “He did the same to us.”

Sam eyes me coldly from his corner between the front bench and the door of the Impala. He has his arms crossed, his hair hanging before his eyes and everything about him says that he’s not going to agree with me. For a second I consider stomping the breaks and giving my brother a lecture, but instead I shoot him a glare.

“Watch your mouth, Sam,” I warn, my tone low. “Dad never left for longer than a month. He did the best he could.” “You were ten, Dean!” Sam exclaims. “And he expected you to take care of a six-year old kid!” “And it didn’t turn out so bad, now did it?!” I shut him up. “Have you considered that maybe he wanted to spare Y/N this life? That that’s the reason why he left her at the orphanage?!” “Bang up job on that,” my brother huffs.

I hate it. I hate that a part of me agrees with Sammy. And so I don’t respond and let him win this argument, if there is such a thing as winning today. Contemplating, I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, pressing my prints into the leather. I’ve always lived in a black and white world. Monsters are evil, people are innocent. Kill the evil, save the innocent. Simple rules, straight-forward orders. I do what Dad tells me to do, because he’s the leader of this pack and he’s always right, right?

That’s the thing, I don’t know anymore. Dad forbid us from hanging with Y/N, because the girl they care so much for, holds him accountable for her fucked up childhood. No matter how you look at it, it’s an shitty situation that is forcing both me and my brother to pick a side.

“Maybe creating some distance ain’t a bad idea. This business doesn’t allow us to be social. The more people we care about, the more people die,” I say, breaking the awkward silence. “So what, you wish we’d never met her? That’s what you’re saying?” my brother scoffs. “No, Sam! I’m saying that I’m worried. I’m worried that this - this, whatever this is, will split our family up!” Frustrated I accelerate, despite the slippery wet asphalt.

“Look, Dean…” Sam lets the air flow off his lips, struggling to ease it on me. “I know there’s more going on between you and Y/N--” I roll my eyes. “Oh, here we go.” “I know that Dad got in your head when he ordered us to stay away from her. I heard him say that she’s an enemy of this family… She isn’t, though. She’s a part of this family. She’s more to you, I can see it in the way you look at her. Plus, motel walls are thin.” I can’t help but to smirk at that. Seems like we woke someone up after I snuck to her room on several occasions. “All jokes aside, you love her, Dean.” I freeze, then manage to open my mouth in order to respond to that, but Sammy beats me to it. Thankfully, because I’m sure ‘I do not!’ would have gotten a good laugh. “You don’t have to say anything, I don’t need a confirmation from you to know that it’s true. But before you close that door, think about how precious that is,” he explains. “I had that kind of love with Jess and I lost it. I would do anything to get that back. Think it through before you let her go, that’s all I’m saying.”

“We’ll locate her, make sure she’s okay, then we go from there. Who knows, maybe we can work this out. But you can’t expect me to choose her over Dad, Sam,” I add, when I see a hopeful spark in my brother’s eyes. “I‘m not. But I do think that now would be the time to start having a mind of your own,” he suggests. “I’m here trying to find her, ain’t I? Dad would kill me if he knew,” I remind him.

Our father was against this little rescue mission and I knew that going down this road will put a big dent in his trust. On the flip side, letting Y/N run off in the state of mind that she was in, feels wrong too. What if something snatches her and we’re not there to back her up? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Suddenly my Metallica ringtone reverberates through the car; someone is ringing my cell. Who the hell would call at this hour? I take my phone out of my pocket and check the display, then my heart stops. An eerie sensation fills my stomach and creeps up my throat. She wouldn’t casually call, not after that clash three days ago. I pick up hastily. “Y/N?” “Dean…” It’s her all right, but a peculiar fear causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up when I hear her say my name. The fear that surfaces whenever Sammy’s in trouble, or Dad is. Hearing the sound of her voice isn’t as comforting as I hoped it would be. It’s weak, trembling, almost a whisper. I immediately know something is off.

“Are you okay?” “No – no, I’m not,” she cries. “Dean…” I close my eyes for a split second, then stare down the road again. Fuck. She just admitted that she’s not okay. It has to be bad, otherwise she wouldn’t… Fuck! I swallow down a lump in my throat and glance aside at my brother, who stares back and instantly reads that something bad has happened. “Are you hurt?” I ask, worried. She doesn’t actually answer my question, but I can hear her respiration, breaths hitching with every inhale; she’s in pain. “I need your help.” “Where are you?” I ask quickly, not wanting to waste any time. “Lincoln… 1722 Tremont, in an empty warehouse,” she answers with difficulty.

I look over my shoulder and only need a split second to read the sign beside the road; Lincoln is the other way. With my phone pressed between my shoulder and my ear, I hit the brakes hard and turn the wheel completely to the left with both hands. Baby slips and makes a 180° as Sam holds on for dear life. When we’re facing the road to Lincoln, I push the gas pedal down completely. With shrieking tires my car catches grip on the slippery asphalt again and races away, fishtailing, leaving a trail of burned rubber. I take the phone back in my hand, speeding up to a hundred miles an hour. “Listen to me, Y/N. You’re gonna keep talking to me, okay? Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes, understand?” I beg her. Whimpers from the other side; she’s crying. I’m mentally kicking myself for letting her go in the first place, my heart breaking as I listen to her despair. “Hey now, it’s okay… It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right there,” I hush her, trying to tone down my own anxiety to a minimum. “I’m sorry, for leaving and… and the fight with your dad.” “That doesn’t matter right now, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out, just like we always do,” I promise.

It’s quiet on the other side, but I can hear the blood rushing through my veins. As I push Baby to her limits, I send up a short prayer to the God I don’t believe in. Anything that helps. “Dean, if this...” she sobs. “If this is it, you need to know that I--” “- No, no, no, no, no. Don’t you dare start that goodbye shit, you hear me?” I interrupt, harshly, but regretting my tone the second I can practically hear the tears fall. “You can tell me later, alright? It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine.” My eyes have filled with tears over the course of the conversation, but I blink them away, nowhere near ready to admitting that this might be the last conversation I ever have with her. She has to be okay. There is no other option, I’m not gonna accept an outcome that is anything less. “Please hurry.” “I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart. Only ten minutes behind you,” I tell her. “Did you call an ambulance?” “No, I can’t…” Her voice fades, getting weaker by the second, but she’s able to whisper. “They’re still here.”

It feels like someone just knocked the wind from my lungs. Holy shit, this won’t be just a rush to hospital. Is she kept hostage? Maybe they left her for dead, for bait maybe? “What are they, Y/N?” But she doesn’t answer. The only thing I can hear is the constant distortion from the phone connection. “Y/N?” Nothing. “Y/N! Answer me!” I yell into the phone. Not a word, not even the sound of respiration. Frustrated, I throw my phone in the back seat and step on the gas even harder, although Baby can’t go any faster. “FUCK!!!” I cuss out loud as I slam the steering wheel.

The Impala dangerously speeds up I55. Anxiety is jolting through every nerve, mixing with multiple feelings I can’t even begin to explain. Sam watches me, I can feel his gaze burn in the side of my head. Only for a moment, I glance at him, about to explain to him what’s going on, but I can’t. If I say it out loud, I acknowledge that this is happening.

Sammy’s eyes are wild, apparently not sure what question to ask first. “She got caught?” he asks, scared. “No, she called to make me an offer on better cable!” I snap sarcastically, going out of my mind. “Yeah, she got caught!” “You know what snatched her?” he interrogates. “I would have told you if I knew, Sam!”

From the corner of my eye I can see Sam swallow hard. It’s doesn’t happen often that I lash out like this, I hope he understands. I’m glad that he doesn’t push any further, because a lump the size of a brick obstructs my throat as my mouth runs dry.

You stupid, stupid idiot.

How could I have let her go like that? Lecturing myself won’t help her, but I can’t stop the guilt from boiling over inside of me. I need to save her. It’s the only way to make this right.

Without switching on the turn signal, I take the exit and skid through the tight corner. At the following intersection I run a red light, a station wagon swerving out of the way, but I don’t give a shit. I don’t care for a speed bump either, but when the exhaust pipe hits the asphalt as my car bounces off the damn thing and leaves a spray of sparks in our wake. I give the dashboard a pat. Sorry, Baby.

“What do we prepare for?” Sam looks at me, waiting for my lead. It’s a solid question, because I have no idea what we’ll be facing. I go over the handful of clues: cattle mutilations, several dead, bled out bodies. They are all omens, but we weren’t tracking a case, we were tracking Y/N. I didn’t study the signs well enough to judge them, so I shrug desperately. Fuck, I wish I had paid more attention. “I don’t know… uh, werewolf, demon?” I shoot, panicky, but then I remember something that she mentioned. “They are still here.” “What?” “The last thing she said; they are still here,” I repeat. “We’re talking about more than one, that gives us something. Whatever this is, they’re working as a team. Demons? Vamps?” “Holy water and dead man’s blood it is,” Sammy concludes, as I take a left, barely slowing down.

We approach a more remote section of town. Old rigs and factories tower over us, some of the buildings still in use, others empty. Tremont, it says on the corner of the narrow street; this is it. With no time to lose I reach over in the glove department to get my flask of Holy water. Sam quickly opens the door, the pouring rain hitting him as soon as gets out. My wise little brother heads to the trunk to get armored up, but I can’t wait for that. As he digs through the weapons, I bolt towards the factory. “Dean! What the hell?!” I hear Sammy exclaim. “You take everything out of the trunk that might come in handy, I’ll go find Y/N!” I tell him, without awaiting a response. “Wait! You can’t go in like that!” my brother objects. But I don’t listen. I don’t give a rat’s ass that I don’t have back up, that I’m going in blind. With my gun pulled out, I approach a door with white numbers; 1722. My own heartbeat drums in my ears, fast and restless, as I hold my weapon in front of me, finger off the trigger, but ready to point and shoot at anything that isn’t Y/N. With a fierce kick I free the door from its hinges and scan the place, holding my flashlight above my pistol. “Y/N!!” No answer, just the echo of my own voice sounding through the high empty spaces, only disturbed by the rain on the roof. In a fast, yet careful pace I move further, but then halt, startled. On the floor, only a few feet away, the light shimmers on a body, motionless, just a pile of human. The sound that erupts from my throat is one I don’t recognize to be mine. “NO!!!”

I hasten towards her and crouch down. I knew she was in trouble when I heard her fragile voice, but her state shocks me to the core. She lays face down in her own blood, and I force myself to stop shaking as I carefully turn her over. In her left hand I find a cell phone, 911 is still on the line. Quickly, I take the device and put it to my ear. “Hello? Anyone there?” “This is Ali from 9-1-1 emergency. There’s an ambulance on its way over to the Tremont intersection, sir. Can you tell me who you are?” Smart girl. She called for help, but made sure we would find her first, not wanting to lead the helpless first responders into this dangerous place. I wipe her hair out of her face, cupping it with my left hand. Fuck, she feels cold. It heightens my fear to a new degree. “I just found her, hurry up!” I tell the woman on the phone, desperately. “A medical team is on its way, sir. They are just a few minutes out.” “She doesn’t have a few minutes!” I exclaim. “Does she show any signs of life?” I check her pulse, but the outcome almost stops my own heart. “No, no, no. She’s not breathing…” I notify the dispatcher, in shock. “C’mon, Y/N… Not like this.”

I want to panic. I want to shake her, yell at her to wake up. I hear 9-1-1 emergency in the background, instructing me to perform CPR if I know how. But as I look down at her face, I notice something out of the ordinary. The operator’s static voice fades out as a beam from the streetlights outside is interrupted. I looks over my shoulder, watching Sam rush towards me. “Vampires!!” I shout, my hand blocking the blood flowing from Y/N’s main vein through a set of bite marks.

Just in time, because my younger brother can only just intercept an attack from above by one of the creatures, right before it releases its teeth on him. A second and a third appear from the dark and Sammy pulls out his machete. We both look around in disbelief while more vamps show themselves. I swallow hard; we walked right into a fucking nest!

“Get her out of here!” Sammy shouts above the noise of struggle. Not wasting time, I pick up her lifeless body from the ground and carry her to the exit, while my brother covers us. I try to ignore the blood that is dripping down my arms when I run out of the factory, the soaking rain drenching us the second we’re exposed to the elements. As fast as my legs can carry us, I hasten towards the main street. I have to get her to that ambulance. They can get her to the hospital and doctors will save her, right? I have to try.

But when I glance down at that gorgeous face under the dreary skies and cold streetlights, I stop. By the sight of the girl I lost my heart to, I know. She has turned stone cold, there’s no blood left in her body, eyes slightly opened and pupils dilated. Her head bobbles over my arm limply, her messy hair stained with blood, hanging sadly in the rain.

“Y/N?”

Honestly I don’t know why I call her name. I know she can’t hear me, I know she’s… I pull in a shuddering breath, the glint of hope I had crushed by reality. I’ve seen death from up close plenty of times before, I know its face. And right now as I’m holding her in my arms, I see it, too. I swallow apprehensively while my bottom lip trembles as I exhale. “No, no, no…” I whimper. “God, please no… Y/N, please!” I just stand there until my knees buckle, with my girl in my arms, dead weight. Helpless and broken I close my eyes and look up at the sky, hoping for a miracle, a sign from above, anything. I’m so desperate that I’m even asking God for help, the man upstairs who has never done me any favors. Nothing happens, nothing changes. And so I pull her into my chest as I let my tears run free, resting my forehead to hers.

My sweetheart, she’s gone… And I didn’t even get to say it, how much I care for her. On the phone earlier, I shouldn’t have interrupted her when I got too scared of what possibly laid ahead. Jesus, why didn’t I let her speak? Why did I let her go? This is all my fault.

I rake my fingers through her hair and pull her into my chest for the last time, when a familiar sound catches my attention. Sirens grow louder, and when I direct my attention to the road ahead, an ambulance speeds around the corner and stops in front of us with shrieking tires. Two paramedics get out. “Sir, I need you to lay her down,” one tells me, as he positions the backboard. “Did you find her?” “Yeah, she was in the middle of the street.” I lie, continuing her plan to keep the first responders away from the danger in the warehouse. The paramedics work fast, quickly hooking her up to a monitor. “No pulse. No respiratory sounds.” “Push 1 milligram of epi,” his partner responds as he starts compressions.

It hurts to watch them work her chest so hard, putting in lines and drugs to get her back. She can’t feel it, I know she can’t, but it seems wrong. The monitor shows a flat line and a continuous beep interrupts the silence on scene. I back out and let them work, although I slowly begin to grasp that it’s pointless. Then I glance over my shoulder at the warehouse, torn between Y/N and my brother. I know I need to get in there and back Sam up, there’s nothing I can do for her anymore. “Where you taking her?” I ask before I leave, my voice broken. “Lincoln Medical Center,” the paramedic answers, before I make a run for it. “Hey! Where are you going? Sir!” I don’t have the time to linger and hasten back to the warehouse. As I run, I take the bullets out of my Colt M1911, rubbing them in my bloody hands; that should teach those fuckers. With every step that I move away from Y/N, hate and anger multiplies, racing my veins like a deserted road. I’m gonna kill every single one of those bloodsuckin’ bitches, even if it’s the last thing I do.

Determined, I reload my gun and enter the large building, right in time to shoot one of the vampires from Sam’s back before it sinks its teeth into his neck. While I march in, I take out a knife, swipe the tip across the ground though the puddle of blood that Y/N left behind, and bury it in the guts of a creature who was coming at me. The thing looks me in the eye in shock, her injury stopping her mid action, choking with her mouth open and teeth visible. Driven by revenge I push the knife in deeper, fury causing my lip to twitch as I stare her down. “Dead girl’s blood, bitch,” I snarl and then pull out the knife.

The vamp falls down on the ground and tries to crawl away, but she can’t get far, completely paralyzed by the toxins running through her body. Another vampire picks her up from the floor and quickly flees. Sammy - out of breath and covered in blood splatters, caused by the messy beheadings - picks up the machete that he lost in the fight, ready to chop off heads if anything dares to come closer. Two well-armed and skilled hunters are enough reason for the rest of the nest to pull back and get the hell out of dodge. In a matter of seconds we are the only ones in the abandoned warehouse, alone in the dark.

With questioning eyes, Sammy seeks eye contact, but I avert mine in time. Instead I stare down at my bloody hands, still holding the knife. Silently I put it away as my gaze freezes on the puddle of blood left by Y/N, watching my own reflection. Her blood worked, it intoxicated the vampires and turned out to be highly effective. Only the blood of the dead can do that. The fact that it harmed our opponents means only one thing. When I finally dare to meet my brother’s gaze and let him be a witness of the devastation, Sam knows.

Staggered, shocked and unable to act, Sammy folds his hands behind his head as he turns away from me. When he has gone full circle, I can see the tears shimmer in his eyes through his brown hair. I can’t stand the sight of my little brother being so upset, so I wander a few steps away. My hands are clenched in fists of rage, but it is not just anger I feel. Guilt, helplessness, desperation, sorrow. And this gaping hole that only grows larger with every loved one I lose. I lost her... I fucking lost her!

Furious and out of control, I take my frustration out on two garbage cans. Raging, I kick them over and let out a loud tormented cry. I can feel Sam’s eyes on me, unable to respond. He’s speechless, but the sorrow in his expression tells more than words could ever say.

I calm down, but only because the outburst doesn’t help me one bit. And so I place my hands in my side and swallow with difficulty, out of breath from boiling over. I can feel my eyes glaze over, but I don’t bother to turn away from Sam. I try to be his tough brother, someone he can look up to. A grown man crying doesn’t fit into that picture. But right now, I couldn’t give a shit who sees the tears that begin to roll down my cheeks, as I stare at the crimson pool in front of me.

My younger sibling snivels, breathes in deeply and collects himself. “We - uh…” his voice fails him completely, catching him off guard. He swallows and clears his throat. “We better clean this mess up, before the police get here.” I just nod, numbed by the pain.

It takes a couple of extra seconds before either of us actually gets to work. Without saying another word we cover our tracks. A thousand questions dwell on my mind, but those questions will remain unanswered. Hundreds of ‘what if's’, even more ‘if only’s’. What if I had stayed with her? Would she be smiling opposite of me in a small booth of the local diner right now? Did she love me? That was what she tried to say over the phone, wasn’t it? Why the hell did I cut her off? Why the hell didn’t I tell her first? How could I promise her that it was gonna be okay? I didn’t say enough and yet too much, unspoken words and broken promises. Did she know how I felt?

You fucking coward, I think to myself. This is exactly what you deserve.

These are only a handful of thoughts that cross my mind as we clean up the carnage. The lack of answers will weigh on my shoulders for as long as I live. Not knowing is horrible, but the reality that is her death, makes it all so much worse. I can’t find solace in self-hatred, not in the vampire corpses as we get rid of the bodies, not in the sudden change of the weather when we exit the building.

I’ve reached my car already when I realize that the rain has stopped falling. I take a moment to look up at the stars that peek from behind the passing clouds, bright against the dark night sky. Minutes ago it was pouring, but now everything is clear. Tonight, Sammy and I lost our friend, our family. Tonight, I lost the woman I love.

There, I said it: I love you, Y/N.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

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creativeashproductions · 7 years ago

Text

Endless Search // Steve Rogers

Summary: Over centuries you’ve always been killed mere weeks at the most before meeting your soulmate causing endless pain. Having been at every social standing possible, from a princess to a servant, you can’t think of another you could be. The current life as a bestseller doesn’t allow the endless circle to stop but can your soulmate finally meet you?

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, and Avengers (implied)

Words:1249

Disclaimer: I do not own any Marvel characters of plots. Nor do own any gifs, images, songs, jokes or videos that may appear. I do however own anything original in this work and if this appears anywhere off Tumblr I didn’t post it.

Warnings: Death, angst and fluff.

Author: Caitsy

A/N: Dreamt of this without knowing which fandom I should put it in. I haven’t done anything other than Riverdale or Dolan Twins in the last few months therefore I decided to give Steve a little loving and pain.

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If there was anything to be assured about it was the knowledge about soulmates being real. In the beginning of time, as stories have been passed down, people worshiped the ideal of having a soulmate, one would pray for the perfect one. Over the centuries mentalities formed on ‘forced love’ and the belief was cast aside.

When the world was starved of love the belief of soulmates returned with greater oomph. Historians brought it back into teachings along with recounts of centuries where, even when the ideal was welcomed, royals denied their issues soulmates in turn for more ‘suited’ ones on a social hierarchy base.

Being a published author with many novels under your belt you used your knowledge of your life’s experiences with heartbreak. Basing your main characters life on yours searching through many lifetimes for the almost always unattainable love. As a little girl you had always said you wanted to be a teacher until that first night you dreamt of your first past life.

You tugged at the stiff material holding your body in an uncomfortable and frankly unattractive hour glass figure. Marcie had an undeniable talent of tightening the corset up to the point of no return, you weren’t sure if your organs were in the right places but appearances were everything. Especially as a high ranking member of society.

“Miss. You’re needed in the throne room.” The meek voice of Marcie sounded from the hallway. In her hands of a freshly cleaned chamber pot, the one you had used only an hour ago.

“Thank you Marcie.” You smiled kindly at your servant before heading towards your father’s study. The large oak wood was polished to a perfection along with the doorknob that you could easily see your face on.

“Good afternoon Miss.” Carson said with a small smile on his face. One of your father’s royal guards Carson had grown from the boy you played with, albeit to your mother’s disdain. The difference between child Carson and adult was the crude yet tasteful arrowhead hanging on his neck.

Carson was an expert marksman with a bow and arrow handed down by his father. He was an exception to the rule all guards followed due to the fact that he had saved your mother and you when you were a little girl. The arrow pierced through the enemy with just enough time for Carson you catch you from the saddle of the now deceased man.

“How is he?” You murmured towards your oldest friend.

“It’s one of the worse days.” He returned.

Your father’s health declined when your little sister Winifred was killed on the annual family horseback tour. Something that was considered unsafe for the royal family but it was important to see Winnie smile when she was always sick. Born sick with ailments that were incurable despite the many trial treatments attempted.

Even in the present day you had managed to track down information about a European royal family back in the 1700s. The dream had caused a spiralling effect to research if it was true or simply a break in your mental state. You found out that the royal family was tragically assassinated on the family horseback tour a mere year after the youngest, Winifred, died fighting what appeared to be a number of illnesses.

Even know you vividly remember that painting of the entire family dressed impeccably where your face was easily recognized in it. You had been the oldest of the King’s children about to meet a neighbouring country’s Prince the following day. It was Prince Silas that eventually discovered your family’s bodies.

That dream during your pre-teen years opened your mind to having more dreams of past lives. You had lived many lives of heartbreak with only dying days before meeting a potential love interest. The second life you remembered was being the daughter of a tailor in the 1800s living around of area of Whitechapel in London. You were murdered by the later infamous serial killer Jack the Ripper.

The night was cold as you walked from your best friend’s home back to the apartment you lived in above your father’s business. You were on the notoriously known corner used by prostitutes when you were pulled into the alleyway by an unknown man. Above you was the man you knew you were going to be killed by.

“P’please don’t!” You screamed before the entire experience clouded as you slowly died thinking of the sweet son of the local baker. You were sure that Stanley was going to ask to court you.

Shaking your mind off the shocking dream you signed one of the books with a grin as the little girl spoke of how it made her feel.

“How did you come up with the idea!”

“I was drinking lemonade on my balcony when it come to mind how beautiful reincarnation sounded at the time.”

“Next please!” The security guard announced making the young girl shuffle along.

Even as the day went by you thought of all the past lives you had come to know over the years from being a princess, to the murdered daughter of a tailor, to being the heroic personal servant that sacrificed her life for her employer, to the young woman that died from cancer and to your current life as an author.

“Get down!” The guard shouted just as a bullet slammed into his forehead.

You screamed scrambling behind the bookshelf as many were injured and killed. You peeked out to see some man holding a strange weapon with a sadistic grin. You had never seen him but the way he was glaring at the cardboard cutout of you, you had a feeling he knew you.

“Come out, Y/N.” His gravelly voiced announced stalking the building with a fierce hatred.

You had always known that at any chance you could be physically assaulted by someone that took your work too seriously. Who painted themselves as your ever lost soulmate. You just ever really believed that you could be the cause of someone’s death.

To be honest you didn’t think the cops could stop this one seeing as the assailant had no problems killing anyone in his way. When the man placed the muzzle of the gun against your forehead you closed your eyes to accept another life where you didn’t meet your soulmate.

Almost like it was a story the muzzle of the gun fell from your forehead leaving no trace other than mental pain and blood splattered on your forehead. You were shaking when you felt hands on each side of your face shifting it to see for any injuries. The hands were gentle but rough at the same time.

“Sorry I took so long. I got a little caught up.” The voice replied. The familiarity of the voice caused you to open your eyes to expressive blue eyes.

Before you stood the one person you could recognize anywhere with his blonde hair that spoke of someone both neat and the epitome of the all American boy. The boy you were meant to meet in previous lives.

“That’s okay.” You mumbled breathlessly, “I had a couple things to do.”

He chuckled deeply before his gripped a handkerchief to wipe the blood from your forehead just so he could placed a kiss against your forehead.  “Steve Rogers.”

“I guess your soul loves names starting with s.” You giggled.

“I guess your soul always loved a scrawny man.” He laughed back.

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