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iprobablyshipit91 · 2 years

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All That Matters

Genre: angst / romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: A few swears, mentions of torture, injuries, starvation and malnourishment

Written for: Dean’s Rootin’ Tootin’ Rodeo posted by @chocolatecakecas

SPN Masterlist

I’m back again as how could I not try and write something for this beautiful man’s birthday. It’s probably a bit more depressing than I intended but at least it’s happier at the end, promise! I’m a sucker for Protective!Dean 💕

It was 4am and you couldn’t stop pacing. You’d been at it for hours, back and forth across your room, practically carving a path in the unforgiving, cold concrete floor as your anxiety continued to bubble up inside you.

In your head a furious debate continued to rage as you take another glance at the door. You shake out your hands and screw your eyes shut as you desperately try to calm your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. You know in your heart where you long to be. There’s only one damn place you feel safe anymore. The question is, will you go?

To say the last few months had been hard was the understatement of the century. You’d been on your own for the last year or so, since your surrogate father, Bobby, had been killed by Dick Roman. You could handle a gun and throw a punch, but really your skills were in helping out hunters where you could, studying lore and answering the phones and so you threw yourself into it whole heartedly to fill the gaping chasm in your chest. Of course, this also meant helping the Winchester boys.

You loved those boys like family. You’d grown up together when John had left them with Bobby for weeks at a time. These were the memories you looked back on most fondly. Running around with Sam, Dean joining you when he wasn’t pretending to be too cool for your childish games. The years had passed swiftly until one summer the boys came back and Dean seemed so different. He’d grown taller and filled out, and how could you have never noticed how green those eyes of his were? It was the biggest cliché and yet you fell hopelessly for him that summer. Sam rolled his eyes in disgust but swore diligently to never tell Dean your secret. And then just like that, they were gone again.

It wasn’t until many years later that the boys finally returned. Searching for their father and hunting anything that stood in their path. You helped them with Bobby, but damn it if your heart still didn’t melt at the mere sight of the eldest Winchester.

That was before.

You felt different now. You still loved Dean, how could you not? Your love for him had only grown over the years. However, you were skittish now and just felt so damn tired all the time. Your personality muted into a shadow of what it once was, content to sit and observe your surroundings rather than be the soul of the party as you had once been. Dean knew why. Sam knew why. Hell, everyone knew why and even though everyone told the brothers constantly that it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but shoulder the responsibility. It was the Winchester way after all. It was them the demons were after when they kidnapped you in the dead of night and it was the bunkers location you’d been tortured for weeks for. Until the boys had finally found you, half starved, bruised and bloody, and rescued you.

The road to recovery had been hard. Cas had immediately healed your physical injury’s with a single touch once you were back in the bunker, but you knew it was the mental scars that were going to take the most healing. Flashes of the torture you’d endured haunting you at any given moment and you’d yet to manage more than a few hours sleep without a nightmare. You were still severely malnourished and had only just managed to start eating more than a few mouthfuls at a time.

After spending a week and a half in the bunker recovering under the boys watchful gazes you had gathered your few things together and made your way to the War Room, ready to say your goodbyes, determined not to out stay your welcome. Sure, you would miss the wonderful home cook meals Dean had been constantly preparing, despite you eating very little of them, and the way Dean had held you through the nightmares that had plagued you in those first nights. Waking up screaming until your throat was hoarse.

The look of identical incredulity on their faces when you told them you were heading home had almost been comical. After much debate Dean had simply taken your bags from you and marched you back to your room, insisting that you were staying with them at least until you were fully recovered and then they would talk more. Damn that Winchester guilt, you hated feeling like a burden. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the Winchesters had only invited you to live with them because they felt bad about it all, and you didn’t want to make that any worse. The tiniest part of you couldn’t help to feel relieved though, not really wanting to be alone anymore.

This brought you back to the present. Still marching across your room back and forth as the pent up anxiety slowly built until you felt like you were drowning. Before you’d really even made the conscious decision you were silently slipping out of your room and down the hall to Dean’s room.

You knocked on his door once and heard nothing. After one more try with no response you simply opened up the door and asked, “Dean? Are you awake?”

Before you had time to blink Dean was sat upright in bed, his gun trained on you. Somehow you didn’t even flinch, a part of you expecting this reaction and despite your recent trauma your brain just knew that this was Dean Winchester and he wouldn’t hurt you. You swallowed thickly and watched as he blinked hard, the sleep clearing from his eyes.

“Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” the gun was gone in an instant and he was crossing the room to you in an old tee and jogger shorts. He gripped your shoulders quickly, eyes filled with remorse as they scanned over you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

The questions came far too rapidly for you to keep up with but Dean seemed to realise quickly there was no physical injuries but you still held yourself tense in his arms. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. It was as if your throat was closing up. Your hands twitched a bit– you just desperately wanted him to hold you right now. To remind you that you weren’t alone. “Can I sleep in here with you?”

“You come to my room and wake me up at God knows what time to cuddle?” Dean asked, a faint amusement colouring his tone now he could see you were physically fine. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw how distressed you looked. Very quickly he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you back to bed with him. Without thinking you firmly tucked your head into his chest and breathed a sigh of relief as his arms wrapped around you and he started rubbed circles into your back. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists. “It feels like I forgot how to breath...”

“You’re going to be okay.” he spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest beneath you. Very slowly he took in the sensation of you relaxing underneath his touch. “You’ve got me and Sam. Lots of people who love you and are going to make sure that you’re safe. Always. We’ll take care of you.”

You could feel your mind stumbling and sticking onto one of the things that he said, “Love me?”

Dean sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t the time to get into that specifically, he thought. The morning, when you finally got some sleep would be better. “Yeah, Sweetheart. Family who love you.”

Your heart skipped at his statement. How could he still not know how you felt?

Sam did though. He could see the torch you held for his brother as clear as if it was a beacon lighting up the night sky. You felt his watchful gaze on you as you gravitated towards his brother for comfort without thought. Needing him to be close to just make it through the god damn day.

You shifted just enough to nuzzle into his neck. “I love my family too.” He stiffened just a bit under your touch, and you felt Dean let out a very shaky breath. There was more you wanted to talk about, more you wanted to say, but you finally felt so warm and safe that you couldn’t be bothered to worry more about it.

You were surrounded by warmth and Dean’s scent– that gunpowder, leather and oil combination that just made you feel like home. His arms felt nice and sturdy around you, and it was impossible not to become completely relaxed in them.

Dean laid there debating with himself whether to push the subject– but the second he finally got his mouth open to speak he heard your breathing even out.

You’d fallen asleep.

Tomorrow.

You woke up slowly and found yourself in a very different position than when you’d fallen asleep. Half of Dean’s weight was now on top of you as you laid on your back. Apparently both of you tossed and turned while you slept.

With a groan you patted Dean’s cheek a few times to wake him up, only resulting in him nuzzling into your collarbone more, his breath tickling your skin. “Stop waking me up, woman.”

“It’s almost lunch, Dean.” You paused before adding, “You’re also using my chest as a pillow.”

Immediately he sat up from on top of you, his face tinged pink. “Sorry about that Sweetheart”

You snickered and rubbed your eyes as you slowly sat up in bed as well. “It’s alright. We were both asleep.” It was impossible to keep from laughing a little more, as you realised just how bad his bedhead was. Without thinking you reached out and began to fuss with a bit that was really stuck up. “Is this why you spend so much time messing with your hair, Dean?”

“You’re awful sassy to the guy who shared his bed with you last night.”

“Mmm, well you ought to be used to my sass by now Winchester.” you slowly lowered your hand when you noticed his tongue flick over his lips, your stomach doing flips and your heart rate picking up. “Thank you though. I didn’t want to–”

Dean watched as your lips pursed into a thin line, “Didn’t want to what?”

“Look, I know why you two asked me here. I know it’s because you think it’s your fault what happened to me. I don’t want to mess things up for you two more. I hate to be a liability.”

His blood boiled a bit at your words. “We asked you here because you’re our friend, who got hurt protecting us. We worry about you.”

You tried to protest again but he shook his head, “No. You went through something horrific Y/n. You’re still barely touching any food and you’re quiet now, you don’t sleep well! We wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That’s why you’re here. Because you took care of us, and now we’re taking care of you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, the rest of his speech dying down in his mouth as he looked at you. He’d had it all planned last night and yet when he looked at you with the dark circles and bags underneath your eyes he hesitated. Not because of you, but because of himself. So what that you still weren’t lit up like you were before Bobby died. You were the woman he loved, the woman he’d gladly die for. But he was poison, hadn’t your recent brush of death confirmed that? Once Dean Winchester decided he loved someone it was as good as placing a target on their back and signing their death warrant. And yet Sam’s words came floating back to him. You love her and you know she feels the same. Life’s too short, Dean. Seize the moment and be happy. Could he really dare to hope that you loved him back.

“Do you want to kiss as badly as I do right now?”

Your eyes went wide as your face snapped up to look at him, “What?” Your brain was reeling, not sure how he’d changed the subject without you knowing.

Dean blushed again, “I’m sorry, god. You don’t… that was terrible. I shouldn’t have asked that. God damn it that’s not a good thing to ask–” you weren’t in a good place, and pushing you about that or asking you things like that could result in you making a choice you weren’t later happy with and Dean didn’t want to do that to you. “I’m sorry. Don’t–”

Very gently, you reached out and cupped Deans cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in, and you felt Deans hands on your shoulders so softly that you wondered if he was scared of hurting you.

His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss you shared was sweet and chaste. Before everything that had happened you’d day dream about something far more passionate that would have ended in someone getting pinned against something but now it was just good to feel something so gentle.

When you parted you were greeted with a fretful looking Dean, “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” you snickered just a bit, “We’re adults you know– it’s not like when we were twelve and kissing was the most crazy thing you could do with someone.”

He smiled and then nuzzled into your neck and breathed in your scent. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you too.” your hands once more went to his hair and played with the strands as you thought about his words, “But you already knew that didn’t you?”

“I hoped. Wished I’d have said something before.”

To that you shrugged– there were so many possibilities missed that you didn’t see the point in counting them all. “We’ve got it out now. That’s all that matters.”

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