#Child!Dean Winchester

[loverzoath]

Safe Haven ❀

Relationship: Child!Dean & Child!Sam & Foster parent!Reader

Summary: Reader is a foster parent takes in Dean and Sam Winchester, two young brothers with a difficult past, determined to provide them with a safe and loving home.

Word Count: 3,020

a/n: I don’t really know how fostering works 100% so feel free to correct me 😓.

The first time you ever heard of the Winchesters was when Sandra -your CASA- gave you a call around 6 pm informing you she has a file for you about 2 boys.

Dean and Sam Winchester. 3 and 7 years old. Both are currently at the Children’s Home Society of North Carolina. You are familiar with the Home since you usually volunteer on weekends. Sandra spoke in a rush, which was absolutely not like her, explaining the need of a foster home in short notice. Even in extreme cases you were usually given a 2 weeks notice to get ready for a child you would shelter.

So when Sandra said she would be there with them tomorrow you knew it was a serious case.

You have been a foster parent for 9 years. And one thing you learned was that with this job came a lot of unpredictable things. When you first became a foster parent, it was at the age of 22, fresh out of college as an RN. It was from there you decided on becoming a school nurse. It was the only nursing occupation that lined up with your responsibilities as a foster mom. A job where you work the same place your child learns and you can be a nurse? Yes please!

Another reason is the benefits that would come from working in the same school for almost a decade. The staff are well known and your boss understands when you need a week or two off to adjust to another little person in your home. Last time you called off was 7 months ago for a young boy named Jack. So that should be enough time to ask for another break.

You immediately call Wesson, your boss. He was a sweet person. Though the opposite is commonly thought when people first meet him. His expensive suits and watches make him look serious. And Wess is anything but. He loves his little lego collection he has growing in his bottom shelf. The phone only rings twice before his cheery voice floats through the speaker.

“Good evening, ________.” He greets politely

“Good evening, Mr. Wesson- I mean Wess.” After the day you helped his daughter through her first cycle in school she gave her father quite the adulation of the scene because the next day you got a personal thanks and permission to call Mr. Wesson, Wess. “I would like to request 2 weeks off?”

“Of course! I'll schedule it for next month then?” There was a bit of shuffling on his end. Wesson knew your responsibilities as a foster parent and when you usually ask for a break.

“Actually, I know it's short notice but I need it for this week and the next?” You grimace a little as you force the words out

“Not a problem ________, but I will say this is new. Why so suddenly?” He spoke more softly now and i knew he was asking not as my boss but a friend.

“Yeah it’s apparently a very serious case. I didn't even get all the information before she hung up.” I sighed heavily though the receiver

“How about this then, take another week. We have the manpower to handle a couple nosebleeds.” He proceeds to laugh at his own joke a little too long.

“Thank you Wess. I need to get the rooms ready now, tell Annabeth I said good night.”

“Of course. you take care of yourself.” Wess said (demanded) before he hung up

You start up the stairs immediately. Being a foster parent means having rooms open and available. 7 and 3. You have Jack's room still made and can be for Dean. In Sam’s case, you have a room for toddlers but you haven’t had to care for one in 2 years. You walk into the room across and survey it. It has a bed with adjustable rails but the room looks bland. Maybe you should have insisted on a time frame.

You place some toddler necessities ,like pull ups, wipes, powder, and such, from the basement onto the dresser. Then taking some toys in the chest of Jack’s old room and placing them in a little basket for Sam's room. By the time you finish preparing the rooms you feel the exhaustion of the day weight on your body. You watch both the boys' rooms again before you lay boneless on the couch.

You lose yourself in thought. You have done this routine many times before, but something about this felt.. heavier. Different. While you have been doing this for a very very long time, even someone experienced like you had periods of anxiety for the child. In this case, you chalk it up to the lack of information, and even though you don't believe yourself right now, all you can do is hope that you are enough to help these two boys. Tomorrow, you have a lot of shopping to do. With or without the boys accompanying you. New clothes, books, toys. You are going to go all out like you usually do.

You fall asleep on the couch with these thoughts hovering over you. Underall the worries and excitement is hope. Hope that maybe this time you can keep them.

You woke up slowly to the sound of your phone ringing. For a moment you let it ring, burying your face in the pillows of the couch. That lasted all of 3 seconds before you remembered who is coming today. And to say you shot out of the couch was an understatement. You snatched your phone and fumbled around for the answer button.

“Good— AHEM. Good morning.” You greet, clearing the sleep out your throat.

“__________, Hi, I'm so sorry about the lack of communication.” It was Sandra. “I will come around 2 pm to discuss the placement.” There is serious exhaustion laced in her voice.

“Sandra, are you okay?” You whispered. Another blaring red flag is Sandra being anything but her normal cheerful and bubbly self, and with this job you have to be. You can count on one hand Sandra has been this way, tired and worn out, for the 9 years you’ve known her.

“I’m fine,” Sandra assured, but her voice wavered. “Just… It's been a long few days. I’ll explain more when I see you.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight in her tone. “Okay, Sandra. I’ll see you at two. Please get some rest if you can.”

“Thanks, ________. You’re a lifesaver, as always.”

The call ended with a soft click, leaving you standing in the quiet of your living room, phone still in hand. The knot of unease in your stomach tightened.

Two boys. Dean and Sam Winchester. Something about their situation clearly had Sandra running on fumes. You’ve seen tough cases before, but this one felt different, heavier, as if their names carried a weight you didn’t yet understand.

Shaking off the worry, you glanced at the clock. It was just past 8 a.m, That meant you had six hours before Sandra arrived, with a to-do list so long it made you inwardly groan.

It was then your stomach decided to remind you that you haven’t eaten since last night. You quickly made some pancakes and scarfed it down. After the meal you left immediately, there wasn’t time to do any dishes when you have a room to decorate. The usual routine kicked in. Grab essentials, plan for every possible need, and the small touches that might help the boys feel more at home.

By 10:30 a.m., your cart was full. You’d picked up toddler-friendly snacks, clothes in sizes that should fit a three-year-old and a seven-year-old, a set of books you hoped Dean would enjoy, and a stuffed moose for Sam. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

When you got back home, you unpacked the haul and happily put the finishing touches on their rooms. You arranged the moose on Sam’s bed, tucked a book about astronauts onto Dean’s pillow, and stood back to assess the rooms.

“Okay,” you murmured to yourself. “God. I am good.” You smile

It was just after 1 p.m when you finally were able to sit down. You tried to sip a glass of water to steady the bundle of nerves building in your stomach. It really wasn’t working. The thought of meeting the boys, seeing their faces, and learning their story made your heart skip a couple beats.

Would they trust you? Would you be able to give them the stable home they need? What if they grow to hate it here?

Doubts started to plague your mind. So by the time 2 p.m rolled around, you were pacing the living room and looking out the window every few minutes. When you heard Sandra’s car turn into your driveway, your stomach started to do flips.Sandra’s car was a shiny black Camaro. The car you have come to memorize when you got a new addition to your family. The car’s door opened and Sandra walked out,looking more tired than you���ve ever seen her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun and the dark circles under her eyes told you she hadn’t slept much, if at all since the first call.

And then you saw them.

Dean was the first to climb out of the car, his movements careful but confident. He was small for a seven-year-old, his dirty blonde hair sticking up at odd angles, as if he had been running his hands through it. His green eyes surveyed the driveway, the house, and finally, you, with wariness that made your heart hurt.

Sam followed, gripping a worn-out blanket in one hand and rubbing his sleepy eyes with the other. He was tiny, with dark brown hair that curled slightly at the ends. It was longer than Deans, he had dark bangs that framed his small face perfectly. His cheeks were tear-streaked— he must’ve been crying, he clung to Dean’s side like a lifeline.

“Hi there,” you said gently, stepping onto the porch as carefully as you could manage. You didn’t want to scare them.

Dean didn’t respond, but his gaze sharpened, studying you like he was trying to figure out if you were a threat. Sam buried his face against Dean’s shoulder, his little body trembling.

Sandra gave you a tired smile. “_________,” she began, “these are the Winchester boys.”

You crouched down, keeping your voice soft and warm. “Hi, Dean. Hi, Sam. My name’s _________. It’s nice to meet you.”

Dean didn’t say anything, but his gaze hardened. Sam peeked out from where he shuffled behind Dean, his big brown eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Sandra knelt down, her voice low and soothing. “Sammy, it’s okay. Remember what I told you? ________ is really nice. You’re going to be safe here.”

Dean’s head snapped toward Sandra at the word safe, his expression unreadable.

“It’s okay,” you said, addressing both boys. “You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know you are very welcomed here, and I’m here to support you guys however I can.”

Sam clutched Dean’s side tighter, but Dean stepped forward, just a little. His green eyes locked onto yours, searching.

“Are you gonna keep us together?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. What have these two boys gone through for him to have to ask that?“Yes, Dean. I promise. You’ll stay together.” For extra measure “I made sure your rooms are right across from each other.” I reassured the child

Dean’s shoulders relaxed, just a fraction, and for the first time, you saw a flash of hope in his eyes.

Sandra stood, her eyes glassy. “Let’s get inside. We have a lot to talk about.”

You nodded, holding the door open as they walked in slowly. Taking in the whole scene.

The moment they were inside, you felt the shift. Dean's eyes scanned the big living room, taking in every detail as though he needed to memorize the space. He studied the plants in the corner, the small basket with cars in the play area, and paid special attention to the exits. The windows and the front and back door. All while Sam clung to Dean’s side, the blanket he had in his hand dragging on the floor. You shut the door behind them trying to make everything feel as calm and welcoming as possible at the moment.

"Want a snack?" you asked softly, crouching at the knees to be level with them. "I have some juice boxes and animal crackers in the kitchen."

Sam looked up at Dean for some brotherly reassurance. Dean looked at Sandra, who nodded reassuringly. Then he turned to you and gave you a small, timid nod.

"Terrific," you said, still as light. "Come on. Get you two settled." Your heart swells with affection when they both follow you to the kitchen immediately.

You led them into the kitchen, where you'd already set out some snacks on the table. Sam climbed into one of the chairs, blanket still firmly in hand, while Dean hovered near him protectively.

You frowned a little in thought. You wanted Dean to sit too but it didn't look like he was leaving Sam’s side anytime soon. You take another chair and slide it right next to Sam. The boys look at you with a face of confusion. Even Sandra quirked a thin eyebrow in your direction. You look at Dean and smile as you pat the seat. He stares at first. Hesitant to move from Sam’s side. But after a couple seconds, he sat in the chair. His eyes flick to you once, no longer hardened or glaring. You took it as a thank you and felt yourself beem.

Sandra sat across from them, her exhaustion more visible now that she wasn't standing. "Thank you for this," she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, offering her a small smile. “It’s what I’m here for. We’ll make it work.”

Sandra exhaled deeply, and for a moment, she looked like she might have started to cry. That made you straighten up a little more. But then she squared her shoulders and gave her full attention to the two boys sitting in the chairs. “Okay let’s talk about what’s happening.”

Dean stiffened, his small hands curling into fists on the table. Sam leaned closer to him, as if seeking protection.

Sandra kept her voice soft. "You're going to stay here with ________ for a little while. She's going to take care of you, and you'll have your own rooms, toys, everything you need. You're safe here."

Dean's jaw tightened, and he finally spoke. "What about Dad?"

Sandra froze, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out. You stepped in, sensing her hesitation.

Right now, your dad can't be with you," I said softly. "But Sandra and I are here to make sure you're okay. That's what matters most."

Dean's green eyes smoldered with a combination of anger and fear. "He'll come back for us. He always does.” he said confidently.

You exchanged a look with Sandra, her face masked in grief she carefully kept contained. "Of course," you whispered. "Until then, you'll be here together and I'll make it as close to your home as I can."

Dean said nothing, though the slope of his shoulders gave the feeling he would yield to it all—for the time being, at least.

Sandra cleared her throat and stood. "I'll let you all get settled. There's a lot in their file to go over, but we will take it one step at a time. I'll check in on you both tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," you said, walking her to the door. "Drive safe, Sandra. And get some rest."

She nodded, her eyes lingering on the boys for a moment before she left.

As you walked back into the kitchen, Sam was nibbling at a cracker, his blanket tucked under his chin. Dean hadn't even snatched a snack, and watched you warily.

"How about a little tour?" you offered, trying to lighten things up. "I can show you your rooms."

Sam lifted a little, but Dean narrowed his eyes. "We'll share a room."

You hesitated. "You can if you want, but you each have your own room right now. They're right next to each other."

Dean looked at Sam, who nodded solemnly, as though the two of them had a whole conversation in that one glance. "We'll share," Dean repeated firmly.

"Okay," you said, adjusting easily. "Let's go check them out. You can decide how you want to set things up.

You led them upstairs, showing them the rooms. Sam's room was filled with soft blues and greens, the stuffed moose proudly sitting on his bed. His drawer was a dark brown and matched the small basket with toys. Dean's room was a little more grown-up with space-themed bedding, books carefully aligned on the nightstand. An astronaut book laid in the middle of his small bed.

Dean walked into Sam's room first, eyeing everything in it before giving a slight nod. "This one," he said, his tone bringing no argument.

Sam beamed, running to the bed and grabbing the stuffed moose. "Look, Dean!" Sam was absolutely enamored by the small brown moose. He shoved it in Dean’s face as he excitedly babbled to him in a string on nonsensical words.

Dean didn't say anything, didn’t even push him away, but his mouth curled up ever so slightly at the corners.

"Alright," you said, fighting a smile. "We'll get an extra mattress in here so you can both stay together. How's that?"

Dean nodded once, and Sam scrambled onto the bed, clutching his new toy tightly.

Standing there in the doorway and watching them, a resolution washed over you. It would be some time, patience, and much love, but you were going to see to it that these boys did get the safe and stable home they deserved. No matter what.

[targaryenchester]

god gives the hardest battles to his strongest soldiers. (to Dean Winchester)

[zepskies]

Headcanon: When You're Having His Child...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: This one is requested by @cevansbaby-dove, and is kind of a continuation of this imagine: When you have morning sickness.

Tags/Warnings: Potential fluff overload.

HC: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would act while you're in labor.

Dean Winchester

Oh, sweet man...

Dean does the thing where he pretends he has his shit together.

He's really trying, for your sake, for his own, and to save face around Sam and Eileen and Jody and everyone else in the hospital waiting room.

They can see it, and he knows it: he's freaking the hell out.

When he's in the room with you, he's either helping you, holding your hand, waiting for you to be dilated enough to start the whole "having a baby" process, or pacing around on those bowlegs, occasionally dragging a hand over his mouth in that telltale nervous gesture.

"Babe, come 'ere," you say with strain. That last contraction really took it out of you. "You're making me even more nervous than I already am."

Dean goes to you and smooths a hand over your hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry. How're you holding up?"

Tears well up in your eyes, but you try to breathe through it. You're overwhelmed, you're in pain, and you've been in labor for several hours already.

"We're ready for this, right?" you ask, squeezing his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed and makes sure you look him in the eyes.

"We're about to find out," he says, with a bit of teasing. But his gaze is steady when he brings your hand up to his lips. "You don't gotta worry about anything. I'm gonna be with you, come whatever, okay?"

You smile, because you don't just believe him. You know.

Because after years of fighting together, surviving together, living together, you know that this is just one more adventure you get to go on with him by your side.

Now, Dean would rather not see all the gritty details of the birth, but he stays in the delivery room, letting you squeeze the shit out of his hand. He's not going to leave your side. He's wiping sweat from your brow and encouraging you, being whatever kind of support you need.

After the baby's born and the nurses bring her back all cleaned up, Dean holds his daughter for the first time.

He has tears in his eyes. For a long moment, he doesn't even blink. He stares down at that small, perfect face. Already he sees some of your features in her.

He can't put into words how he feels. It's overwhelming in his chest. But one thing is certain...

Dean's never been more grateful to be alive than in this moment.

He blinks, and the first of his tears fall. He brings her to you, sitting down carefully on the edge of your bed again so you can hold her. You're beyond exhaustion, sweaty, and weeping, but one thing is certain...

You've never been more grateful for Dean than in this moment.

You turn to him, giving him a small smile. He returns it, and he leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

"Do you have a name picked out yet?" one of the nurses asks.

You and Dean share a look: his imploring, yours knowing.

"We're not naming her Baby," you warn him.

"Aw, come on."

Beau Arlen

Round 2! 🫡

Beau runs the gambit from excited, to anxious, to freaking the hell out, and back to excited.

This is "Round 2" for him. His second child. But he's had reservations about being an "older" father to a new baby. (He's pushing 50 at this point. No matter how much he keeps in shape, he still feels his age in his bowlegged knees.)

You've assured him that plenty of men have children at his age.

Regardless of his insecurities though, you know he's still over the moon. Beau has always wanted more kids, deep down, and now thanks to you, he's getting his wish.

He's the man who's "prepared for anything."

When your water broke, he already had your to-go bag ready with everything you might need.

But he continues to ask you questions from the moment he's got you out the door to the drive over to the hospital, and even in the lobby.

"You thirsty? You comfortable like that? How's the pain? Just breathe, baby. I gotcha. Watch your step now. You hungry? We've got protein bars in the bag, unless you're cravin' something else. First things first, let's check in. Oh, I hope we can getcha in a private room. Let's see--oh damn, they sure are packed today, huh? Okay, how're you holdin' up? How's the pain, level of 1 to 10? Yep, got it, hold my hand. Just breathe through it. I gotcha."

Bless him. The man means well, but he's driving you freakin' crazy.

"Beau, I know. If you don't take a breath, I'm gonna pop you in the damn nose."

He tries not to smile at your grumpiness. "...Okay, I hear ya. Let's just get you into your room."

He rarely leaves your side during the entire labor, just to get you anything you might actually need. The radio at his belt occasionally goes off for work, but he apologizes, having forgotten to turn it off. He put Jenny in charge while he's gone.

"Let's just hope the precinct's still standing when I get back," he jokes. He finally turns off the radio and takes it off his belt, to your relief. And he returns his undivided attention to you.

Beau witnessed the birth of his daughter Emily, so he's no stranger to being in the delivery room. He even ventures past the curtain when your son is born, breathing air into his little lungs and letting out a powerful cry.

Beau laughs with tears in his eyes. "That's my boy."

When the nurses place him into your arms first, Beau supports your hold and brushes your sweaty hair back from your face. "Good job, honey. Good job."

"I know," you tease weakly.

Beau chuckles. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and looks down at the small bundle in your arms and his.

"We have a son," Beau says. His eyes are red and shining. "I have a son."

"You have a son," you nod. You look over at him and lean in for a kiss. He obliges you, and rests his forehead against yours afterwards.

Life is meant for moments like this, he thinks.

He's damn grateful it's with you.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Readers of Strong as Blood in the BMD-verse will recognize some of this HC...

This day has been a long time coming, for both of you.

He smells like cigar smoke when he comes back into your recovery room. For which you have no doubt, Ben had been puffing away with Butcher and M.M. outside the hospital. 

Ben was with you for most of the lead up to the birth, but you actually agreed that having him in the delivery room wasn't a good idea. He never did well with you in pain, and with his temper, he might just scare the shit out of the doctor and nurses.

He strides toward you though, when he enters the room. He lays a hand on your head and another on the baby's tuft of brown, downy hair.

"We have a daughter," you tell him, with a watery smile.

Part of him still twinges with disappointment. He didn't react well when he found out you weren't carrying a boy, his future son.

(You'd given him enough hell that he never brought up the subject again.)

But that all fades away when he looks down at his daughter's face.

He carefully sits on the edge of your bed, but he's suspended in time. His chest tightens in a way he's never experienced before.

It's almost like pain, but not. Not at all.

He brushes a thumb along the baby's soft cheek. He's almost hesitant to touch her, knowing how fragile she is.

"Beautiful, like her mother," he says at last. And he means it.

He earns your smile.

"Flatterer," you accuse. You know you look as wrecked as you feel. Somehow, none of that matter's whenever you look at your child's face.

You look over at Ben with a shining smile. His lips twitch. He leans in and meets your lips with a kiss, slow and deep and intimate in this quiet little room.

“You okay?” he asks you, after he pulls away. “Got everything you need?”

He’s become even more protective, of course, but also more attentive to you. Especially in the last few months of your pregnancy, seeing how uncomfortable you've become.

It warms you every time, when you consider how rough, how stoic, and how damn-near emotionally repressed he can be.

It seems that fatherhood is beginning to soften him, even before he begins. You quirk a smile at the thought, and at his question.

“Imagine pushing a super melon out of your dick. That’s how I’m doing,” you say cheekily.

He snorts a bit loudly at that, and you shush him, as if it wasn’t your fault he was laughing. He expects nothing less from you.

“But I’m okay,” you answer his second question. “All I need right now is you.”

Ben considers you, a slightly gentler smile curving his lips, and he nods.

“All right,” he says. In this moment, he realizes that his entire world is in this room.

He’d never admit it, but it's a terrifying thought, for a man who once had everything and nothing.

You unknowingly stop the path of his thoughts when you ask him, "Want to hold her for a while?"

Ben perks up at attention. He's a bit uncertain on how exactly to hold the baby, but he can't lose face and tell you that. So he just accepts the bundle when you place her in his arms.

As he looks down at a small face that already has some of his features, he inhales a faltering breath.

It's the first time you ever see true tears in his eyes, despite how much he resists. One manages to draw a path down his cheek. 

“You know, you’re blessed to have my genes, sweetheart,” he says. It elicits a knowing scoff out of you. “But you’re also lucky as hell to have your mom.”

Ben looks up and finds the predictable well of tears forming in your eyes. His smirk softens around the edges.

“She’s the best damn woman you’re ever gonna meet,” he says.

AN: All right, I'll stop. 😭 I hope you enjoy this one, fluff overload and all! Who was your favorite this time: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 💜

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[niekiddo]

What will you do, when it is your turn in the field with the god?

Honestly, I will never shut up about the unjust and misogynistic treatment of women in SPN fandom. Mary is such a fascinating and tragic character, I can’t get enough of her. And I think she deserved to beat the living shit out of those ugly grown-ass men. She should be worse!

[bittersweet-nothingss]

"𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙮𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙙𝙖𝙮. 𝙃𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙙 𝘿𝙚𝙖𝙣"

- 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝙟𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙡

𝙎𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙩𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙥𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙙𝙖𝙮.

He walked towards Dean.

[sammygender]

sam and dean at 8 and 12

sam and dean at 10 and 14

sam and dean at 12 and 16

sam and dean at 14 and 18

[thewarriorandthethief]

kind of tragic how dean puts all this responsibility onto himself to be sam’s protector, when the truth is sam has never once been safe. the biggest violation in his life happened when he was six months old, and nobody was there to protect him. and nothing anyone did afterwards could ever make up for that fact.

[samsjon]

do you think the impala has child safety locks because teenage sam got so fed up with john and dean that he threatened to throw himself out of the car and dean got so paranoid that sam would actually do it that he secretly installed the safety locks himself as soon as john gave him the car. and then he kept them even when sam wasnt a child anymore because where else could sam be safer besides locked inside baby with his big brother. and because he definitely threatened to throw himself out of the car again if dean didnt shut up

[disinhume]

This is what they look like to me

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just Keep Breathing

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader, Castiel & Winchester!reader, Rowena & Winchester!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: You get sick from a mysterious illness, and you just can’t seem to get better.

“Finally!”

Dean’s voice was the first you heard as you stumbled into the bunker after an insanely long school day. You were somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, and it felt like you might collapse any second.

“Grab a book, there’s a ton of lore to go through,” Dean continued. “We’re looking for more info on witches, seems like there might be…” Dean’s voice trailed off when he looked up to see you all but slumping down the stairs. “Hey kid, you ok?”

“Mm-hmm,” you huffed in response as your backpack dropped to the floor—had you done that? You didn’t remember making the decision to take it off, it seemed to just fall off your slumped shoulders on its own.

“Ok, commere.” You blinked and there was Dean, his hand lifting to your forehead and his brow drawn in concern. “Jeez, you’re burning up.”

At Dean’s words, Sam looked up.

“She’s sick?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Dean removed his hand and lowered himself to one knee to look at your downturned, unfocused gaze. “Sweetheart, look at me.”

You tried to focus on Dean’s eyes, but your gaze refused to settle.

“Yeah ok,” Dean sighed. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You let Dean lead you to your room and tuck you into bed. He even helped you take your shoes off when your fingers fumbled with the laces.

“Did you eat today?” Dean asked as you settled in.

“I…” you wracked your befuddled brain. “I had lunch…but then I threw it up sometime after sixth period.”

“Ok.” Dean cringed. “You get some sleep, I’m gonna go make you food.”

“Nooo.”

Dean turned in surprise at your desperate whine.

“What? What’s wrong?”

You grabbed at his sleeve and tugged.

“Don’t go,” you sniffled. “I don’t want food, I just want you to stay.”

“Ok, ok,” Dean relented, figuring that once you were asleep he could make you something. “You better not get me sick,” he said, only half kidding, as he sat on your bed. When you reached out to him, he went to put his arms around you, but the second his hands touched you, you flinched away.

“That hurts!” You were starting to cry now as you backed away from your brother.

“What hurts?” Dean was baffled. “I barely even…” he trailed off as he pressed the back of his hand to your head again, ignoring the way you hissed and tried to flinch away from him. “Jeesh, it’s even worse now,” Dean mumbled. “Just lay back now, you gotta get some sleep, ok?”

“Don’t go,” you begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, just take it easy sweetheart,” Dean promised. “Get some rest.”

Dean waited until he was sure you were asleep before he went to talk to Sam.

“She asleep?” Sam asked, not even looking up from the lore book he was studying.

“Yeah…” Dean’s voice trailed off as he stood there awkwardly for a moment. “Sam, something’s wrong.”

“Wrong? What, with Y/N?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it…she was getting hot so fast, and when I tried to touch her, it was like I burned her or something. I don’t know, I guess I can’t be sure, but something about her getting sick doesn’t feel…normal.”

“Ok.” Sam nodded. “Well, you call around at the school and see if there’s a bug going around. I’m gonna hit the lore a bit more.”

The boys didn’t speak as they got to work.

…

Sam was heading to the kitchen when he heard you calling for him. He detoured into your room, his heart constricting when he saw you—you were pale and sweaty, the sheets sticking to your skin. He couldn’t tell if your cheeks were glistening from tears or sweat—it was obvious you were in pain.

“Hey honey,” he greeted gently. “Did you need something?”

“Can you stay with me?” You pleaded. Sam didn’t hesitate, coming over to sit on your bed. You reached out to hold his hand, but when your fingers touched his you hissed and pulled away.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked, remembering what Dean had said.

“It hurts.” Now there was no mistaking the tears on your face for sweat—Sam had never seen you so upset and in pain. “It’s like-like my skin is on fire and-and I just want a hug but when anybody touches me it just—it just gets worse.” You were out of breath and choking on your words by the end, and it took every ounce of Sam’s will to ignore his big brother instinct and not pull you into his arms—the last thing he wanted was to hurt you worse.

“Stay right here, I’m coming right back,” Sam said as he stood. You didn’t say anything, you just watched curiously—and a little worried—as Sam left. Sure enough, he returned a minute later with a bowl full of water and a glove.

“Ok, I’m gonna try something, hold still,” Sam instructed.

You started to giggle when Sam pulled the glove on and plunged his hand in the bowl. He grinned at you, happy to hear you laughing again.

“Ok now, hold still,” Sam insisted. “This is serious.” But he was still grinning as he took his dripping, gloved hand and pressed it against your forehead. “How does that feel?”

You closed your eyes in contentment as the cool water hit your skin and the gentle cloth brushed against your forehead.

“Better,” you told Sam with a smile. “Thanks, Sammy.”

“Anytime,” Sam said.

The two of you stayed like that for most of the afternoon, with Sam comforting you and trying to cool you off with the wet glove. Sam was determined to do anything he could to make you feel better while Dean was trying to investigate the cause of your illness. He’d also been calling Cas all day, but he hadn’t gotten an answer.

Dean was just about to give up on the books and catch a few hours of sleep when he heard Sam calling for him. He followed the sound to your room, where he found his little siblings resting on your bed.

“Can you sing me a song?” You asked, shyly picking at your sheets.

“Uhm…” Dean swallowed, a little uncomfortable. “Sure sweetheart.”

Sam relented his spot next to you so that Dean could climb in. He started off just humming “Hey Jude,” and within minutes you were fast asleep.

“You were right, Dean,” Sam said when he was sure you were asleep. “I don’t know what it is but—but it’s bad.”

“Ok well we don’t need to panic,” Dean assured him, noticing Sam’s rising anxiety. “She’s been sick before, let’s just give it a little longer and see what happens. Maybe Cas’ll finally come around and set her straight.”

“I don’t remember,” Sam mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“Her getting sick. I barely ever remember her being sick.”

“Dad always sent you to school whether she was sick or not. I usually stayed behind to take care of her.” A ghost of a smile passed across Dean’s lips. “Most of the time I had to convince dad that I’d caught whatever she had so that he’d let me stay with her. I never wanted to leave her when she was sick.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment before a thought occurred to him.

“I don’t ever remember you sick.”

At this, Dean shrugged.

“I usually just powered through it. I had a job to do, after all.”

Sam was about to comment on that when his eyes suddenly snapped to you.

“Dean, is…is she breathing?” Dean jumped up as Sam moved closer to you. “Dean she’s not breathing!”

Dean blocked Sam from getting in the way and grabbed hold of your shoulders.

“Hey…hey!”

You jolted awake when Deans shook you, taking a great gulp of air the moment you were awake.

“Hey…ok…” Dean breathed a sigh of relief, holding you in his arms until he heard you crying as you tried to pull away. “You ok?” He asked as he let you go.

“It still hurts,” you sniffled. “What…what happened?”

“You stopped breathing,” Sam said. “It…jeez kid, you scared us.”

Dean noticed that your breaths still sounded labored.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

“It…it kinda hurts,” you muttered almost to yourself as you rubbed at your chest.

“Breathing?” Sam met Dean’s eyes—they were terrified.

Your only response was a tiny nod as you continued to take shallow breaths.

“I’m gonna try Cas again,” Dean said, standing from your bed.

“I’m…” Sam hesitated, as though he didn’t want to tell Dean what he was thinking. “I’m gonna call Rowena.”

“Rowena?” Dean demanded. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know what this is, Dean!” Sam insisted. “For all we know, she got cursed! We were looking into witch activity in the area. Maybe Rowena can help.”

Dean backed off.

“Fine. Call her.”

…

“I can’t heal her.”

“That’s because it’s a spell, you idiot.”

“I can’t be sure of that.”

“Well I can!”

“Ok, ok,” Dean interrupted Rowena and Cas’s argument. “This isn’t helping anything. Rowena, what can you do?”

“Not much I’m afraid,” Rowena sighed. “I can’t undo the spell.”

“Well can you at least tell us what the spell is?” Sam cut in before Dean had a chance to get angry.

“That’s easy enough. It seems to be some kind of…anti-body spell.”

“What does that mean?” Dean demanded.

“It means that her body is slowly starting to reject what it needs or wants the most. Basic needs like food, water, probably even sleep, will start to hurt her.”

“It hurt when I touched her skin,” Sam interrupted.

Rowena shrugged, and continued. “I suppose the need or desire for physical affection counts. It will get worse, though. Things that she can’t live without will be too painful for her to do. Eventually even breathing will be unbearable.”

“It already hurts to breathe.” Everyone had all but forgotten you were there until you made yourself known. Your voice came out in a terrified whisper, but everyone heard you clearly.

“We’re gonna fix it,” Dean asserted. “All we have to do is find the witch, right? Then kill her.”

“It might not be that simple,” Rowena sighed. “I mean, it could’ve been anyone. For all we know, they put a spell on Y/N to make her forget them.”

“Then what are we gonna do?!” Dean demanded.

“You and Cas try to find that witch,” Sam jumped in, trying to find a way to keep panic down. “We already have a head start, since we were pretty sure one was in the area anyway. You know where most of the strange activity was, start there. Rowena and I will stay here, try and see if there’s an undo spell.”

Dean didn’t hesitate to agree. If he wasn’t so preoccupied worrying over you, he would’ve been very proud of Sam, stepping up while he was panicking. Now that Dean had a direction, he was calmer—he was ready.

“Ok. Let’s go.”

…

“Please don’t leave me.”

Dean and Cas had already left, and Rowena and Sam were halfway out of your room when you tear-strained voice reached Sam. He turned to face you, and his resolve to hit the books in the library crumbled when he saw you, shaking in fear and taking shallow, painful breaths.

“Bring me some books to look through,” he muttered to Rowena before coming to sit on your bed.

It was silent in your room for a few deafening seconds, before your shattered gaze met Sam’s and you spoke, breaking his heart.

“I don’t wanna die, Sammy.”

“Hey,” Sam turned to face you, resisting once again the urge to pull you into his arms. “Me and Dean are never gonna let that happen. You know that, right?”

“It-it hurts to breathe,” you cried. “And it keeps getting worse. I don’t—I don’t know how long I can do it.”

“Hey, hey…” Sam was reaching for you when he remembered that that would only make you hurt worse. His hand froze in the air, halfway to your face. “I…” Sam‘s voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Don’t…don’t say that, ok? You have to keep fighting, ok? We’re gonna find a way to fix this, but you just have to keep fighting.” Sam was so desperate to hug you that he pulled his sleeves over his hand to cover his skin and pulled you into his arms. You allowed it for several seconds, wanting so desperately to just sink into his arms. But you couldn’t.

“That…” you struggled to get the words out; you didn’t want to say them. “That hurts, too, Sammy.”

Sam flinched back like he’d been shot, looking down at you in utter defeat.

“I’m…I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The despair in the room was total.

…

“I’ve got it!”

Sam regretted his outburst when you jolted awake. Rowena had warned the both of you that sleeping might end up making you hurt more rather than feel better, but you had all but passed out from exhaustion and pain, and Sam didn’t have the heart to stop you. Even in sleep, your body and face twitched in pain periodically.

Now that you were awake, it was obvious that Rowena was right; it had made it worse.

“What—“ your breathing was labored as each breath pained you. “What happened?”

Rowena stepped into the room, having heard Sam’s declaration.

“I found the spell,” Sam insisted, holding the book up. Rowena approached him with a dubious frown. However, once she started to read the spell she slowly nodded.

“This might just do it,” she said.

“I’m gonna call Dean.”

…

Dean and Cas returned within an hour.

“Not a single lead,” Dean said, annoyed. “So this had better work.”

“Let’s hope so,” Sam sighed, looking at Rowena. She nodded.

“It’s a good thing that this bunker is well-stocked,” she said. “I believe we’re running out of time.”

Your gaze turned downwards when everyone glanced at you at Rowena’s words. Sure enough, your breaths had been getting shallower and shorter in your failed attempts to make them hurt less. You were also weak and pale from the lack of food and water you’d had over the past two days.

“Do it.” Dean was the first to look away from you as he spoke to Rowena.

Rowena handed you a cup filled with a mixture of herbs and things you didn’t want to know about. Your lip was quivering as you lifted the cup to your lips—you’d avoided food and water for a reason; if breathing was like a stab to the chest, how would swallowing down a potion feel?

Sam’s heart was breaking as he watched you struggle to swallow through the pain, and Dean couldn’t even look.

As soon as you had the potion down, Rowena started reading a Latin incantation from the book. Sam watched you carefully as Rowena finished it. He crossed his fingers behind his back, holding his breath as he hoped that your own would become less labored. Instead, your eyes widened in surprise as your breaths became even more panicked.

“What’s happening?” Dean demanded, his eyes flashing from you to Rowena. “What did you do?!”

“I-I don’t understand…” Rowena muttered, flipping through the book. “It should have…”

“Sam…De…” you whimpered.

Dean’s panicked eyes met Sam’s, then yours, before they went back to Rowena.

“Found it!” Rowena breathed relief, before her eyes once again clouded with worry. “Oh no.”

“What?” Sam and Dean demanded in unison.

“The-the counterspell…it takes an hour to work, and as it works through the curse, the curse…fights back.”

“What does that mean?” Dean’s breathing sounded almost as labored as yours as he struggled to keep down his fear as well as his anger.

“It means that it’ll get worse before it gets better. If we…if we had found this at the beginning, it would’ve worked easily, but…”

“But she might not survive an hour like this,” Cas finished for Rowena, realizing what she was saying before either brother.

“What can we do?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Rowena shook her head. “This spell was her only hope, so…so we just have to wait and see if she outlasts the curse now. It shouldn’t take any more than an hour.”

“Ok,” Dean said, coming to sit by you. “You can do this kiddo, ok? We’re gonna be right here, you’re gonna be fine.”

The seconds crawled by one eternity at a time. Every time Dean thought you couldn’t look more in pain, your face twisted again as you tried over and over to take a deep enough breath to satisfy your starving lungs. Once it reached fifteen minutes left, Dean noticed that every minute or so you stopped breathing completely.

“Hey, c’mon.” Dean resisted the urge to cup your face. “C’mon keep breathing, you can do it.”

Suddenly you were reaching your arms out to Dean, and he was backing away.

“I-I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said.

“Don’t…care,” You whimpered. “I…n-need y—“ you couldn’t seem to get out full words, but Dean didn’t need anything more.

“Ok, yeah.” You were in Dean’s arms in a second. “Ok, I’m here sweetheart. I’m here, you just gotta keep breathing. Keep breathing for me.”

You burrowed against your big brother despite the pain, trying all you could to keep breathing. The pain was so blindingly unbearable that you started to feel your vision blur and blacken. Sam was the first to notice you drooping in Dean’s arms, and he reached down and pulled your face away from Dean’s chest so he could look at you.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake honey,” Sam insisted.

“Don’t let her sleep!” Rowena commanded. “Her body will stop breathing automatically if she passes out.”

“Hey, hey,” Dean’s gentle taps to your face felt like full-on punches, but they did the trick. Your eyes fluttered open once more, and your hands gripped onto Dean even harder. Sam had joined Dean on your bed, his one arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind while Dean continued to hold you in his lap. Their touch was like fire on your skin, but never had a burn been so welcome.

“Keep breathing,” Dean was repeating over and over, and without that mantra you truly would have stopped ten minutes ago.

“Seven more minutes,” Cas announced.

You went to take another small breath, and you couldn’t keep the cry of pain in when it was the worst pain yet. It hit you so hard that you felt the darkness returning.

“No no no, hey,” Dean pleaded. “Breathe kiddo, you’ve gotta keep breathing.”

You’d barely even noticed that you stopped. It felt so good to stop. The pain of your unfilled lungs wasn’t nearly as horrible as the pain of breathing.

The relief was so great that you barely even felt when the blackness finally took over, and you slumped in Dean’s arms.

…

“No no no no…” Dean was shaking you over and over, but you were out cold. “Come on, breathe!”

“Six minutes,” Castiel said.

“She won’t last that long,” Sam breathed.

“It-it’s not an exact science,” Rowena cut in. “It might…maybe it will work a little faster.”

With nothing else to do, the four watched, barely breathing, as your body lay unnaturally still on your bed. Cas was watching his watch like a guard dog, counting the seconds until you would have brain damage…until you could die…

The great, gasping breath that escaped your lips as you sat up had all four onlookers nearly crying in relief. Sam and Dean had already been crying, but even the witch and the angel couldn’t hold in their emotions anymore as you began to breathe deeply again, tears of relief streaming down your own face.

Dean held you in his arms without fear, and you clung to him without pain. Sam’s arm was still around your shoulders—he hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re ok,” Dean breathed as you cried on his shirt, and no one was sure if he was reassuring you or himself. “You’re ok sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You refused to let go of your brothers, having spent two days unable to take comfort in them when you needed them most. The three of you stayed like that for so long that eventually Rowena left, but Cas stayed to watch over the Winchesters he had sworn to protect—to watch over the one he’d almost lost.

He watched silently as the three siblings fell asleep—you first, then Sam, then—once he was sure that his little brother and sister were ok—finally Dean.

He watched, knowing that they had almost lost everything today.

He watched, knowing that they would only be closer because of it.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[winchestress]

Buffy when she finds out what Angel's doing in LA

[were-wolverine]

i love when characters that are always the one protecting others, staying strong for them, putting others first- get to be taken care of. get to fall apart, get to be soft and vulnerable, get to be protected and loved just as fiercely as they protect and love the people they care about

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

"Would've killed for one of those when I was a kid."

[castiwls]

"sacrifice, that's what we do for the people we love"

being the middle child in the winchester family...

I’d imagine you being like two years younger than Dean and two years older than Sam. So like literally the middle child

Your memories of your mum are fuzzy but you can recall a few things

When Mary died you were only two so you didn’t really understand what was going on for a while.

When you all first left Lawernce you spent most of that first night in a motel room crying because you wanted your mom and your bed. (Dean had to comfort you cause John left his two toddlers and baby alone in a motel #dadoftheyear)

When you were like ten your dad told you about what he had been doing for the past eight years. You were terrified but he made you promise not to tell Sam. He also made sure you knew that it was your job to keep Sam safe. 

Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.

You and your brothers were really close.

You and Dean basically trauma-bonded over hunting and also having wayyyy too much responsibility at a young age. 

Out of you and Dean, you were more emotionally available so Sam tended to tell you more.

As he got older he would talk to you about getting out and stuff. While your dad and Dean were very much into hunting you and Sam were more of on the sidelines. 

Sam got his love of reading from you. He’d always tell you about the books he was reading and what he was doing in class.

You’re the mediator for the family. It was always you who broke up fights. You were also able to calm your father down.

Mentioning in a passing comment that you didn’t want to hunt when you were like 15 and John flipped.

“If you don’t want to help kill the thing that killed your mom then you can get out.”

So you did. You left at 15 for 6 months.

In reality, you went to stay with Bobby but you never told your dad that.

Dean begged you to stay and would call every day. So would Sam.

Around this time Sam also started to want to leave. 

“I wanna come stay with you.” You sighed leaning against the wall. The phone rested between your ear and shoulder. “You can't Sam. Dad would flip your too young.” He let out a frustrated noise but let the topic go. (for now)

Dean would also call often and beg you to come home.

“Look he didn’t mean it, alright. It was just a heat of the moment thing.”

You did eventually come back. (Bobby wasn’t happy but let you go)

Your brothers were overjoyed and you actually got an apology from your dad (shocker.)

Things were ok for a few years and then Sam got a bit older and started talking about school. He’d only talk to you about it though. It wasn’t that Dean hated the idea but he didn't understand.

One day when you were 18 and he was 16 Sam asked to talk in private. So you took him to a dinner near the motel and he told you about Stanford.

“One of my teachers thinks it's possible.” He pushed the pamphlet towards you. “I just need a signature from an adult and I know Dad won't sign it.” You quietly looked over the pamphlet for a moment. A sense of pride washed over you as well as relief. This was his way out. “Of course, I’ll sign it.”

You both kept it quiet for the next year and when his acceptance letter came in you both kept it to yourselves but you were so proud

#proud parent moment.

Though eventually, Dean found the letter. 

“Did you know about this?” He asked holding up the letter. You felt your blood run cold as you grabbed the letter from him. “Yes. I did know.” You admitted. “It was me who signed the papers.” Your brother's eyes widened a look of betrayal crossed his face. “Why would you do that?” His voice began to rise as he spoke. “Because Sam deserves a future Dean.”

You two didn’t speak for a while after that. Dean got over it though.

When it came time for Sam to leave that's when all hell broke loose.

You’d never heard your dad yell so loud. He and Sam went back and forth for hours until your younger brother just walked out. You and Dean both followed him. After calming him down you went with him to the bus and said goodbye.

Dean was kinda non-plussed (inside he hated it and was worried sick). You were worried but happy that he was getting out.

When you and Dean went back to the motel John was furious. He blamed you (of course)

“This is your fault. You're the one who put all those ideas in his head and look what happened.”

Dean jumped in front of you and told him to back off. 

“Sam’s his own person you can’t blame her for this!”

After this, you and Dean get closer. John starts taking more hunts alone meaning that you and Dean spend a lot of time just driving around.

You would probably class this as the first time in your life you felt truly happy. Hunting with Dean was easier and there were fewer arguments.

Sam would call u often to update you. When he told you that he’d met a girl you were so happy for him. (it really seemed he got out)

But then your dad went missing and Dean insisted on getting Sam to help.

You were glad to have both your brothers back but at the same time felt insanely guilty as you watched Sam fall back into hunting.

[damnikindadontcare]

Look I know they would’ve never done it but can you how imagine how funny it would’ve been if they kept Dean fourteen for the rest of season 10 after about a boy. Imagine the comedic potential, especially if they met up with Cas. “Dean got zapped back to fourteen by a witch and we kept him that way because the mark of Cain is gone but don’t worry we’ll figure out how turn him back ” “you WHAT-“

[the-night-moves-writing]

Savior- Sisterhood (part 1)

Winchesters x Sibling reader (sibling bond ONLY)

Castiel x Winchester Reader (Platonic)

Summary: When Castiel goes off the deep end and becomes god, he finds he still has a soft spot for the smallest winchester

Warnings: angst, reader is mute for a lot of the fic, Descriptions of a panic attack, mentions of John Winchester being a bad father

Characters: John, Castiel x Reader (platonic), Dean x Reader (siblings), and Sam x reader (siblings), very small amount of destiel (you can see it if you squint)

Word count: 1746

A/N: Hi guys! I feel like i might post a little bit more now that i'm back, also there is a part two (and maybe three) in the works for this! i will create a list for you to be able to find all the parts and link it to my masterlist once i get it all set up. Also now i am on A03 and i will link that to my masterlist here in a little bit too. Anyway sorry for the long authors note, heres the fic. <3

I think of ways to turn the tables and fear what happens when they turn, the anger he fills in turn fills me with uncertainty and anxiety. His father passed the hate down the table, passed through graves and passed through cradles. He said he could never turn out like him, he was different. He kept those he wanted to protect at arms length, never fully giving himself the right to feel and to be loved. The one exception to the rule was Sam. Little brother Sammy, his whole reason for continuing on was to take care of Sam and protect him. Then here I came into the picture like a wrecking ball through the perfectly built motel room. 

Left on the doorstep with nothing but a note that read: John i could no longer take care of our child so i give them to you. May they grow to be strong and better than the both of us. There was no name left on the note but my father John Winchester knew who it was from, some random lady in a bar. He never wanted to deal with me so he placed me into Dean's caring arms. Dean was not only my brother and caregiver but also my dad in my eyes. So Dean and Sam became my whole world my entire life, until Sam left us for college. Being only 6 at the time I had a very little understanding of why he left but Dean always just said he left us. So I hunted with Dean and John, well less hunting and more researching for them and learning everything I could about the lore so that I could be helpful to Dean and John and take Sam's place in hunting. 

 Then it was just me and Dean hunting and I learned the basics.  When Dean went to get Sam from college because John had been gone for a few days on a hunting trip i was so angry, how could he leave us and how could Dean still want him back especially when i was 10 and more than capable of helping dean. Then he came back and we were together again and things were good, until Dean died and Sam dropped me off at Bobbys. I was 13 years old and I could hunt with him, I didn't want to be away from both of my brothers. Bobby thought that I needed a car though so he let me rebuild one with him so I rebuilt my sweetheart, I couldn’t call her baby despite me loving the car, a 1965 mustang. A nice little two seater that I had painted green. I used the car to visit where Sam had Dean buried, all the time. Bobby was concerned at how much time I spent at his grave but I couldn't help it. 

I had lost both of my brothers and the only family I had ever had and I was grasping at straws, I lived but it was my spirit that was haunting Bobby's house. I had become basically mute within these past months and Bobby was trying everything to get me to speak again. So when Dean returned out of nowhere I stayed by his side, though it worried Dean how quiet I was. I never left his side though which helped to ease his anxieties and when the entity was following Dean we had bigger things to deal with. I stayed far away from Sam not being able to look in his eyes after being left again. Then we met Castiel. I was very worried and very scared. Somehow Cas picked up on it though and constantly eased my fears, he could tell why i didn't trust Sam and unlike Dean accepted and understood it. Cas easily became a good friend to me because I didn't have to speak with him and he didn't have to try to understand human norms with me. 

Dean and Sam were both worried about this new found friendship between me and the angel but they saw the way that I was opening up. Saw the way I was becoming happy again and they just couldn't interfere. Everything changed when I turned 15 Castiel died and Sam went to hell. Cas came back though like always and when Sam didn't have a soul and Dean was searching for a way to return his, Cas stuck by me cared for me and kept me safe. He answered when I called and he took care of me. He takes care of me and is the only person I can trust. Then I hit 16 and the worst period of my life began, Cas declared himself the new god. The sadness I felt in my chest, crushing my heart.

For the first time in almost 4 years I had something to say 

“Cas STOP!” I said

Everyone turned to stare at me, and Cas turned to walk towards me. He took my hand

 in his and said,

“I am extremely proud of you my very devoted little one” 

His tone borders on threatening and dipping into enjoyment and pride.

He looked between Dean and Sam and myself before he spoke once more

“I expect complete devotion from you all…” he paused for a second, taking a breath before turning to me. The look in his eyes was no longer the soft and comforting look I had grown accustomed to. 

“…you have proven that you will speak for me in what you consider dire situations, so I command you to continue to do so” his gaze softened “ You have always been my favorite, my little one. Please do not give me any reason to punish you.”  

I, not being able to meet his gaze any longer, turned to look at the ground. My favorite person was now gone and there was nothing I could do to bring him back. I could follow him and leave my brothers again, leave my family. Or I could stay and lose the person I'm closest to in the whole world.

I could hear Dean and Sam shouting but I felt like my head was being pushed underwater, I couldn't breathe and I could feel the tears begin to run down my face and splatter on to the floor below. My vision was blurry and it was so loud everything was so loud, my entire life was falling apart and there was nothing I could do about it. I was completely hopeless and useless, I wasn't good enough. Good enough to help Sam and Dean with hunts, or protect them from going to hell, I couldn't do anything. I could feel my breathing quicken and my chest tightening. 

“STOP” Cas’s voice cut clear though the air, he turned from the boys walking towards me. My thoughts, eyes, and breathing were still shaky and unfocused. At some point I had ended up on my knees sobbing.

“Obviously I cannot leave the care of you to these two, my little one, I better take you with me.” He stated, me not hearing him, though it was more a threat to the boys. Dean finally noticed me and ran over and moved to be on his knees, Sam hot on his trail following suit to kneel in front of me.

“Hey hey hey your ok sweetheart, I promise. I got you, deanies here, don't worry.” Dean said, bringing up the nickname I used to call him trying to calm me down. Dean and Sam continued their calming words till my breath returned to normal. Cas was still staring at us from afar. He looked at us for a minute before speaking 

“If you wish for me to let you keep your sister I expect obedience Dean, I do not want to fret over her as i try to rebuild heaven. I could always just take her with me if that would make you more compliant.” His voice booming and loud

“P…. please let me stay” my voice is still shaky and rough not only from the panic attack but from years of not using it.

“This is not a decision for you to make, if i dont think Dean is capable of caring for you then I won't hesitate to bring you with me.” He said to me 

“Remember for almost 4 years I was the only person you spoke to. I know everything about you, and Dean cannot care for you as much as I could, little one.” Castiel’s voice seemed to soften when speaking to me. Dean could no longer take the former angel speaking as if he could not care for HIS siblings any longer.

“I’ve taken care of her my entire life Cas I think I know what I am doing.” He said a little bit pissed and it showed through his voice.

“I am no longer Cas to you Dean, you may refer to me as lord or god but never speak as if you are close to me again.” The statement was heartbreaking for the hunter, who always had a ‘profound bond’ with the angel.

“Another thing you say you have cared for them yet they were mute for four years, and you have caused so much damage to them. Do you really think you can care for them better than I?” Cas asked him completely serious

“I tried Cas you know better than anyone that i tried for almost two years, but i can't MAKE them talk” Dean was full blown angry now. Making me more frightened

“I TOLD YOU TO NOT CALL ME CAS.” Cas said his voice booming off the walls, he brought his hand up to slam Dean into the wall

“Stop, stop, stop please, I’m sorry, I'm so sorry, please just let me stay.” you cried out

“You have no control over my actions, little one. Dean had been given too many warnings, but seeing as you want to stay I will allow it, but believe me I will be doing check ups, and if I believe that you are not being cared for I will not hesitate to take you. You are still only a child who needs to be protected.” Cas said putting Dean down, Sam running to help him, Cas then turned from me to the brothers before speaking one last time.

“Heed my warnings. I am not going to repeat myself.” he said before disappearing, leaving the siblings alone in the warehouse.