#Dean winchester has panic attacks

[prentissluvr]

dead eyes — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, hurt/comfort, established relationship, canon typical violence, blood, death, weapons, and monsters (shifter), reader has a panic attack, character death (in a dream), nightmares, crying, kisses, unedited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : killing a shifter with sam's appearance scares you to the point of a panic attack.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

his dead eyes. you shouldn’t have looked.

when you do, it feels like you’re being tilted on your axis, and your vision swims for a moment. his voice, though distant, brings you out of it. we should go find dean, he says, voice gentle like he caught a glimpse of the horror that flashes over your features. horror because they’re his dead eyes.

but it’s not over yet. there’s still another shifter in the house, and the adrenaline of an active hunt doesn’t let you dwell on it.

you had gotten separated, just like you said you wouldn’t, and when sam showed back up, you had to point your gun at him, you had to keep him at a distance. this proved smart when another sam walks in. your sam, you think, because he’s carrying the silver knife he took on the hunt today… and because it feels like him. but you couldn’t be sure.

so you kept your gun up and ready to turn on either one at a moment's notice, even when the mere idea of shooting sam, even a fake one, made you sick to your stomach. what if i shoot the real sam? you had thought to yourself in a terrified moment before your insincts kicked in.

you offered to test yourself first, slipping out your silver knife and cutting a thin line to prove to the real sam that you can be trusted. the shifter and sam stare each other down, and the one that you think is your real sam offers to test himself with his own knife. right as he brings the blade to his forearm, the other lunges towards sam, pulling out a long dagger and aiming right for the heart.

two shots rang out through the air before you could even think about it, and the shift dropped dead at sam’s feet.

now, as you find dean, just barely having killed the last shifter, you know that your instincts served you well, and saved both you and sam. but it had all happened so fast. the realization that there was more than one shifter, getting separated from the brothers, then the confrontation with both sams. your sam, who was calm and collected, but didn’t try to worm his way into getting you to trust him. and the shifter, who wore sam’s face and played with you.

he had insisted he was the real sam, he had chosen to confuse you. sure, to buy himself some time… but you think it was for the pure entertainment of it too. that’s exactly what the shifters had done to their previous victims; posed as their loved ones, but turned violent and angry until the victims tried to hurt or even kill them in self-defense. then they'd guilt their victim for trying to hurt someone they love. and then of course they’d kill them, with their loved one’s face as the last thing they see. they were a violent, messed up pair of monsters, and you’re glad to be rid of them.

but they got to you too. maybe you are their final victim, because sam’s voice saying please don’t hurt me keeps replaying in your head. then there’s sam’s body falling to the ground, blood pooling under him so fast and his eyes open in death. 

it wasn’t sam. you know it wasn’t sam. but in the car ride back to the motel you’re overwhelmed with images of his dead body anyway. and the fact that you had to point that gun at the real sam because you couldn’t be too sure. looking down the barrel of a gun and sam being at the end of it… it just about kills you.

from his seat in the front of the car, sam knows that you’re struggling. he can feel it. your eyes on the back of his head, looking haunted when he glances back with a silent smile of reassurance. and he can’t even see your hands where they are, tucked into your lap, but he knows you well enough that it’s like he can physically feel the way they’re shaking. he wishes he could wrap his solid hands around your trembling fingers and rub your back to soothe your breathing.

he’ll have to wait until you get to the motel, and he’s thankful the drive is almost over. the silence of the car isn’t a comfortable one.

dean reads the room easily and takes to the shower the moment you arrive. before the door to the bathroom is even shut, sam pulls you into his arms, one hand wrapped around your shoulders and the other planted on the back of your head to keep you close.

“it’s okay,” he murmurs, pressing his cheek against you. “i know you’d never hurt me. you don’t have to worry about that.”

the way that he hand picks words and tone and volume for you, with ease and purpose and a complete knowledge of you, your heart, and your mind makes you melt into his hold. you mold to his body, you hug him back so tight, and you cry a few tears. just a few, because his arms around you are grounding and real and better than anything else you could ever ask for. you thought you might fall into a panic, let your anxieties and tendency to overthink things get the better of you. he fixes it all with a hug.

a hug and a love for you that compares to nothing at all. it’s like the way that he holds you and the way that he knows you, gently close the gaps where worry and fear and tears slip through. no stitches, no needle and thread, just soft bandages that hold you together.

⟢⟢⟢

you kill sam in your dreams. you don’t remember anything else. just what it’s like to point your gun at him and shoot with intent. what it’s like to press your hands to the bleeding wounds you made and see his eyes go still. you wake before you can close them with bloody hands.

you’re trembling and you don’t think you’re breathing quite right.

it’s just a dream. it was just a dream. none of it is real. you would never hurt sam, never on purpose. 

with a sharp twist of your neck, you look over at his sleeping form from your spot on the pullout couch. 

you share a bed much more often than not, but this motel is out of rooms with queen beds. last time you slept in a twin bed with him you almost fell to the floor even with him holding you close. that thought brings you out of it for a moment. but seeing him so still in bed is too scary for you to stay calm for any longer than that.

he’s fine, you think desperately. he’s just sleeping. if you could take the time to let your eyes adjust to the dark or see through the tears in your eyes, you’d be able to catch the rise and fall of his breathing. but you can’t.

you can’t even keep track of your own breathing as you stumble out of bed and towards him before realizing at the last moment that you don’t want to wake him.

so you put a hand to your chest and try to breathe as you turn around and make your way to the motel room door on shaky legs. the tears run and run like they can outpace the fear, maybe drown it, and you don’t realize how much noise you’re making as you fumble with the lock and the handle and the door that wasn’t this heavy earlier today.

you’re looking for the cold. the wind, maybe rain if you’re lucky. you’re looking for something to feel that’s not a phantom of your nightmares or suffocating guilt and terror. how could you even dream that? how could you?

and you can’t breathe, you don’t think that you can breathe as your knees buckle and you sit down hard on the concrete outside. it would hurt if you could feel it.

you squeeze your eyes shut and drop your head between your knees because you know somewhere in the back of your mind that you’re having a panic attack. but from your position on the ground and the intensity of your anxiety, it’s not enough. you gasp and gasp and can’t hear sam’s footsteps or your name falling from his lips until he’s right in front of you.

he doesn’t touch you for fear of startling you, but he says your name so soft and steady and worried.

“please look at me, honey,” he asks. sleep tints his voice, love colors it. “it’s alright. you’re alright. i’m alright.”

looking at him is hard because he’s already there, behind your eyelids and bleeding out. but he’s alright. that was his voice saying it, his voice calling you honey and maybe if you open your eyes and look up, he won’t sound so distant the next time he talks.

he’s in front of you. the sight of him sways a little, but he’s there and if you’re seeing well enough, he looks so concerned. so sorry and worried and a little helpless because he wants to bring you out of it and isn’t sure if it’s working yet.

but you hear him and you listen, and when he can see your eyes, it’s a little bit better. when you can see his eyes, it’s a little bit better. they are not open in death. they are alive and feeling and looking at you with love and pain and softness and sorrow. he’s so sorry that you’re so scared of hurting him.

“can you focus on me, love?” he asks, noting your distant eyes and faraway mind and wanting more than anything to bring you back to him.

like a miracle, you find out that you can. you can focus on his eyes, and then his voice, and then you see him holding a hand out in case you want something physical to ground yourself with. it’s instinct to grab his hand, to grip it and steady yourself with it like you have a million times before for a million different reasons. like when you got tipsy and wobbly or when you wanted to go home but you didn’t have one. when you missed him or when you twisted your ankle or fell in love. when you killed him in your dreams.

you still gasp for air and you still cry. but sam is there and that means you’re going to be okay. that means he’s okay, at least for now. he makes for now enough, and you’ll make sure that it’s always. i’ll protect him, you tell yourself. you’ll protect him.

but for now he’ll be the one to protect you; tonight it’s from your fears and the cruel tricks of your mind. he pulls your shaky form into him. he rubs your back and kisses your forehead and your breathing slows down. the air comes into your lungs and it stays there long enough to make a difference. you feel the cold and the breeze on your skin. there’s no rain, but the moon can be seen and it hangs over sam’s head. the moon reminds you of sam.

you walk yourself out of the panic attack without even needing him to ask you for five things you see or four things you can feel. he’s proud of you for it. of course, it’s his being there that helps you more than anything.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, “there you go. i got you.” he smooths his hand over the back of your head, soft and slow and sturdy. when your eyes flutter closed, the only thing you see is the imprint of the bright moon against your eyelids for a moment. the rest is dark and calm.

the fabric of his sleep shirt gets all bunched up in your weak hands. the t-shirt is soft and thin from wear and it feels familiar in between your sleepy fingers. it’s october. he’s probably cold.

i’ll protect him, you remember. your fingers loosen and the fabric falls away from your hold. it rides up and exposes his skin to the wind when you rub up his back. it falls back over the hem of his jeans when you rub down. you’re trying to warm him, but your hands are shaky and small compared to the expanse of his back, even smaller compared to the expanse of the sky.

for a moment sam isn’t sure what you're doing, but he smiles so sadly when he realizes. his heart aches with love and adoration.

“let’s get inside,” he whispers. you nod against his chest. he’ll be warmer inside. so will you. you might be shivering. he hoists you to your feet with steady care. your knees feel weak, but you hold his hand tight and walk back into the room. sam closes and locks the door, the guides you to his bed. he sits you down on the edge and crouches in front of you, wiping softly at your tears. then he leans forward and up to press a kiss to your cheek, then another to the spot between your eyebrows.

you fall into him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he accepts you happily. he rubs your back soothingly, lets you tuck your head into the crook of his neck. he holds you there until you sit up. he lets his legs go sore and doesn’t care about it one bit. you heave out a huff of breath and he cups your face, thumbing softly at your cheekbone. your hand slowly wraps around his wrist, then you turn your head to kiss the heel of his palm.

“let’s sleep,” you mumble against his skin. with a soft heart, sam obliges, climbing into the small bed after you. he bundles you up into his arms before pulling the covers over your warming bodies. he kisses the top of your head, letting his lips linger for a long moment before he rests his cheek against the same spot.

“goodnight, sam,” you whisper softly, voice still holding a hint of its earlier shakiness.

“goodnight, honey,” he echoes, voice just as soft and prettily hushed. he wants to say more, maybe another ‘it’s okay’ or sweet reassurance. he wants to make sure you know that he’s not afraid of you hurting him, that he trusts you and that loves you all the way. but he thinks you already know, and that you’re better suited for silence now.

he’ll tell you tomorrow.

[vaguesxrrow]

hii! i was wondering if i could request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship, and i had this prompt in my head [could possibly be used as future inspo's for you fics too if you'd like :>]

basically, the relationship between them is pretty new, like only a month or two new, and reader has claustrophobia, but never told him or Sam.

and for a case, they have to go into an elevator, which is fine, and reader seems to do a good job at pretending it doesnt freak them out that they're in a convined space (elevator is pretty tiny, even for elevator standarts)

but then it suddenly stays still, and gets stuck bc of electrical issues.

so now they're stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, and reader tries their best to stay calm, but Dean knows better and now that the elevator is staying still he notices the microexpressions, the panic, the fear.

and its just super fluffy with him helping reader deal with it untill the elevator is back on track

thanks! and have a great day!

i lovee all your requests sm, especially bc they challenge me to write new things <33 i rlly like how this turned out so i hope u do to !

dean winchester / claustrophobic!reader

a/n: i have no personal experience with claustrophobia but i researched it as much as i could. however sorry if it still sounds unrealistic !

cws: panic attacks, claustrophobia

wc: 785

tags: gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, humour

"can we even fit in there?" dean asked dubiously, clearly unimpressed at the elevator that stood before you. "i mean, this has gotta be a health hazard, man, cause what is this?" he banged the doors as he stepped inside.

"it's fine, dean, stop being dramatic." you rolled your eyes, trying to fight the wave of panic (or was that vomit?) rising up inside you.

not letting yourself think about it any further, you stepped in after dean. at first, you thought it was just your claustrophobia whispering how this elevator looked like a death trap. but then your (wonderful, by the way) boyfriend dean had pointed it out himself, and wasn't that just awesome?

you weren't irritated at him, but at the situation itself. you and dean had only been dating for a month, and definitely hadn't reached the 'divulge your deepest fears and secrets to each other' stage.

you could tell dean about your claustrophobia now, but what else was there to do? the stairs in this building had been destroyed by the vampires you knew nested on the top floor.

in conclusion, the elevator was the only way.

determined, you punched the button to the 17th floor. this was fine.

dean prattled on about the job. something about 4 vampires, killing 3 residents until the others had to evacuate...

suddenly, the elevator groaned to a stop, on the 10th floor. you hit the buttons again. god, it had been going so well.

"what happened?" you asked. the lights began to flicker. "is there a ghost here, too?"

both of you scanned the area as best as you could, having to shuffle around awkwardly to look at the whole area.

"nah," dean finally said. "probably just electrical issues."

you sighed. "it's gonna be humiliating calling sam to rescue us."

"tell me about it." dean rolled his eyes, even as he dialed his brother's number. "yeah, sammy, [name] and i got into a bit of a situation... no, dumbass, we're not dying-"

you forced a laugh at the boy's banter, even as the walls seemed to be closing in on you. breathe in and out, you chanted internally.

"-if you could just come get us..." dean glanced at you, pausing in surprise for a second. "hey, sammy, i gotta go, just get here as quick as you can, would ya?" he hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket. you were too focused on keeping your emotions in check to notice dean had become alerted to your subtle panic, and was now giving you his full attention.

"you okay, [name]?" he asked.

you forced a teasing grin. "fine, just wishing i had some fresh air to get away from your stink."

"that's a smooth evasion if i've ever heard one, but it ain't gonna work on me, hot stuff." he wiped away a miniscule bead of sweat from your forehead. "literally."

you closed your eyes. he had clocked you - no point in keeping up the act now, even if it was embarrassing.

"can i touch you?"

you nodded. he put an arm around your shoulder, his other hand lightly grasping yours. he guided it to his chest where his heart was. "you feel my heartbeat?"

you murmured an affirmation.

"alright, it quickened a bit there, but that's the effect you have on me." he winked. "how fast is it? does it match the.. what was it, bpm, of any song?"

you shook your head at him in confusion. "what?"

"answer the question, [name]." he rolled his eyes, flushing slightly.

you furrowed your brow as you thought. "wanted dead or alive, bon jovi?"

he smirked. "awh, that's awesome. now you get to bear witness to my rendition of it."

that alone was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of you. "excuse me?"

he began swaying, jostling you in the process. "you heard me. i'm a cowboy, on a steel horse i riiide." he spun around, although it was more of an awkward twirl. "i'm wantedddd..." he held out both hands to you, tugging you close when you took them. "dead or aliiiveeee!"

you snorted loudly at his attempt to hold the last note, and yelped in surprise when the elevator lurched back into movement. dean's hug tightened, steadying you.

"i must be one hell of a singer if that was all it took to get the elevator sorted," he remarked, looking hilariously proud of himself.

"that's one way to put it." your previous panic and embarrassment had dissipated, leaving only gratitude for your boyfriend. "thanks."

he kissed you briefly. "no problem. but can you imagine the look on sammy's face when he gets here and we don't need help anymore? ha, imagine that!"

[loop-hole-319]

My headcannons about Danny Phantom and Supernatural crossover

He likes to fly above/behind the impala on long car trips and sleeps in the backseat. He has claimed it as his domain and would rather invisible sit on the roof then share.

When ever they check in at a motel Danny always races in to book the room so he can get a room with 2 beds for 'him and his dads'. Unless they are with Cas, then it's his dad's and his uncle.

Danny sleeps on a hammock he got from the Far Frozen which he phases the ends in to the ceiling unless he has a nightmare, then he cuddles one of the brothers.

He can sniff out Hex Bags like a drug dog. He says that they smell like hatred and Old Spice.

Danny stores important stuff inside of his own pocket dimension, which is located in his chest right in front of his core. So when access it he must stick his hand into his chest. At first the Winchesters think he is storing stuff inside his body like a smuggler or something.

Dean calls it his hammer space and Charlie refers to it as his chest of holding.

Charlie babysits him whenever the brothers have to do a Meetup with other hunters, because he has been traumatized.

Danny sneaks them in to places,except morgues. He also does not participate in salt and burns.

He was the one to tell them that by just holding a ladder and a high vis vest. You can get it in about anywhere without question.

The first time Danny went on a ghost hunt with them. He punched the ghost and knocked it out.

He punched a death echo out of its loop.

He LOVES to fuck with the Ghost Facers and other Ghost hunters.

He has broken them out of jail more times than he can count.

He bit Cass the first time he met him.

He has helped Dean out of a panic attack with his ghost purring. Immediately following, they teased him about being a cat.

He will whine about not wanting to carry gear because it's "anti-ghost".

The first time he met Crowley he ran and hid behind Dean. Dean felt really honored about that.

Sometimes on long hunts and when they're out in the woods, Danny likes to drape himself in ghost form, across with Sam's shoulders like a boa.

Dean teaches him how to shoot a gun and Sam teaches him about lore. Bobby teaches him a whole bunch of other useful Hunter skills.

Danny has fallen asleep on all of them.

[according2thelore]

You are married to Sam Winchester. You don’t have a name.

You met him in a bar. Or a park. Or a diner where you worked. Or a library you were studying in. Or on the bus route back to your apartment. Or in the frozen aisle of a grocery store. The location doesn’t matter, but you know that you know him. That’s all you need to know. He smiles at you, and you smile back. He’s nice to look at, in the way that shards of stained glass are nice to look at. In the way that car crashes are captivating, in the way that a tree can be both dead and alive at once, in the way that homes disappear one room at a time. It doesn’t matter. You open your mouth to introduce yourself but the waitress-librarian-cop-bus driver-clerk talks over you. He never asks again. I’m Sam, he says. It’s a nice name. He’s got a nice face.

Dating him is easy. He never asks any questions about you. You ask questions about him, but he doesn’t like it, so you learn to stop. I had a brother, he offers once, in the way that someone says, I tried to kill myself. You nod. His name is Dean. It’s odd, maybe, that he refers to Dean in both past and the present tense. He doesn’t like it when you question things like that, though, so you keep quiet. Sam says strange things sometimes, when you’re sitting entwined on your couch watching reality TV. I killed monsters. They killed me, sometimes, too. He says. Your eyes go wide. He reassures you, It doesn’t matter. You melt back against him.

Oh, okay. As long as it doesn’t matter, that’s alright with you.

You get married. You get married in a courthouse, because Sam doesn’t like churches. I’ve made too many promises in churches, he said. I can’t break any more.

Okay, you say. You never liked churches much anyway. Or maybe you do. Maybe you believe in God. Sam doesn’t. He says he killed God. You believe him, because he’s got a knife carved from bone hidden under your boxspring. He keeps herbs and finger bones in jars and a golden bowl in your china cabinet, and won’t let you touch them. When the clerk hands you your wedding certificate, you smile as Sam kisses you. You’re excited when you take the paper from him, hoping to see your name. But in the space where it’s supposed to be is blank. Sam rubs a finger over Marriage Certificate, then over his name scribbled in pen. It’s perfect, he says, looking up at you with distant stars in his eyes. Oh. Okay, it’s perfect. That’s good. 

He cries out for Dean in his sleep. Night terrors so severe that they upend you from his bed shake him awake once a week. He screams in a language you’ve never heard before. After those nights, Sam doesn’t look you in the eye. He doesn’t talk after nightmares, and you don’t know how to shake him back to consciousness.

You catch him in the reflex of doing things. Odd things set him off. A rerun of that medical drama you binged in undergrad shuts Sam down, and he doesn’t come home until after dinner. An Asia song plays in a grocery store and Sam drops the milk in the middle of the aisle. You find him having a panic attack behind your car in the parking lot. 

He has an old car in the apartment’s parking garage that you’re not allowed to touch. It’s vintage—a beautiful thing, because you know a lot about cars or maybe you don’t—and it’s got an arsenal in the trunk. He buries salt lines in your yard. If you sneak up behind him, he’s got a knife to your throat before you can explain yourself.

Sam laughs at something on his phone, and goes to show someone, but it’s always only you there. It seems to disappoint him. When he’s upset, he gets more upset when you say the wrong things. It’s a dance that you don’t know the steps to, and Sam’s too tired to teach you.

It’s okay, you’ll learn yourself. You buy him almonds at the grocery store. You always keep the thermostat above seventy two degrees Fahrenheit. You always grab him a second of whatever you get: a beer, a sandwich, a blanket. You sleep on the side of the bed closest to the door. It’s not perfect. When you do the laundry, he gets frustrated with you because you fold things “too big.”  He always orders two sides of fries. He buys ground beef that he doesn’t eat.

He has a dog. The dog doesn’t like you, but it doesn’t not like you either. Sam hates you for it. Dean loves this dog. He loves Dean, too. Sam told you. You wilt. Another test failed. Dean’s really good at this game, but you’re not. Dean’s good at most games, at least the games that Sam likes to play. You try to love the dog more after that, giving him treats and actually cooking the ground beef Sam throws away every week to feed him. When Sam sprints into the kitchen as the smell wafts through the house, he collapses when he sees it’s just you. He doesn’t talk the rest of the weekend.

Sam gets a job at the factory. Or the construction site. Or the law firm. Or the local community college. You work as a nurse. Or a doctor. Or a cop. Or a secretary. Or a chef. It doesn’t matter. The details are blurry. Sam invites you to a Christmas party with his coworkers. This is my wife, Sam says, proud. His coworkers smile, but they never ask your name. You don’t have one. That’s alright with you, as long as it’s alright with Sam. You’d hate to embarrass him at a work party.

You have sex. You get pregnant. You have a kid. Those things happen in some kind of order, but it gets mixed up sometimes. 

You’ve always wanted a girl probably, but when you look into the face of your son, you realize that you’ve never wanted anything as much as you want this child. Or maybe you never wanted kids. But you have one now, and he’s your priority. You’re a good mom.

Sam didn’t have a good mom, didn’t have a mom until he was in his thirties, but she didn’t last long. So it’s important to him that you’re a good mom for his son. You’re going to take the job seriously.

We should name him Dean, you suggest, and Sam sobs into your hair. Your chest warms pleasantly. You like it when Sam holds you like this. When Sam shows you the birth certificate, your eyes catch on the name. Dean Winchester Junior? You ask. That’s for naming a child after a parent. Sam looks at the baby in your arms—wait, now it’s in his arms—and says, Dean is as much of a part of this as either of us.

The space for Mother of Child is blank. You’ve never seen a picture of Dean Winchester. Or Dean Winchester, Sr. now. 

You fall asleep in an apartment and wake up in a house with a porch and a white-picket fence. That’s nice. It’ll give the dog space to run around. In your child’s sixth month alive, Sam sleeps in the child’s crib with a knife. Just to make sure, he says. Nothing’s going to happen to Dean. It takes him a long time to say the name without flinching when he’s talking about his son. When your son turns a year old, you finally remember to ask what Sam’s tattoo means. He looks surprised that you’ve mentioned it. It’s a tattoo that I got with Dean. He says. Of course it is. You’re angry, but it’s gone again, because these are things you’re supposed to accept about Sam. It keeps demons from possessing me. Demons? You ask, startled. Sam’s mouth thins into a line. Yes. You need to get one, he says. And the second that Dean turns sixteen, I’m signing that form and we’re taking him in to get one, too. You’re alarmed, until Sam tells you that it’s okay. That’s a relief. You get the tattoo, right over your left breast, and Sam fucks you so hard that you can’t walk the next day. You introduce your family to your boss one day, This is Sam and Dean!, and Sam shoves the baby into your arms and has to leave the room. We’re calling him Dean Junior from now on, Sam says later, after the hunted look in his eyes melts into exhaustion. Alright. 

You clean the house. You wear sundresses. You like your job, but not enough to let it get in the way of being a mother. Sam teaches Dean Junior how to throw a ball. He helps him with math homework. You make meatloaf and take Dean Junior to soccer games.

You realize late—too late, maybe—that all the pictures of you on the mantle are a little blurry. You can’t remember the last time you saw your own reflection. You pull out your driver’s license. It’s blank, just your address. No picture of you. Your hair colour is just “dark.” No height. “Thin” is your weight. You speed on the way home from work so you can get pulled over. You hand over your empty license and your blank registration, and the cop barely gives either a glance. You’re free to go. He says. Everything’s in order.

You walk in the front door, and Sam kisses you on the cheek. He’s had to get glasses recently, and they make his face look even more handsome. Welcome home, honey, he says, smiling. Do you remember when you told me you killed God? You ask, because that sounds vaguely familiar. Sam blinks at you in confusion for a couple of seconds. The house shudders around you for a second.

Yes, Sam says, voice distant. Yes, I think I did. There’s a new God now though. I helped raise him. He’s a good kid. The house stills. There is no room for nasty things here. Only good. You nod, relieved. I’m glad he’s a nice boy, you say, picking up your son. If anyone could raise God, you could.

Sam looks haunted by this. He retreats.

Sam doesn’t tell you everything. Sam won’t ever tell you everything. 

You look into the face of your son as he swings his legs lightly against your hip. He’s got green eyes, and he’s sucking on his thumb, a nasty habit you’ve tried to break. Sam shows Dean Junior pictures of his brother. He tells him stories, when Dean Junior’s asleep, about the open road, about cicadas and fireworks and greasy diner food and sunscreen and used textbooks and ash.

You sit on the opposite side of the door and cry because this man is a catastrophe and he hunted monsters and he loves everything more than you thought anyone could love anything. He’s half a soul, crammed into one body, edges ragged. He’s over two hundred years old. And he likes cherry slushies and he’s killed angels and he dreams of his brothers hands and he’s seen the face of God. 

I love your uncle, you had heard his voice, a low murmur in Junior’s nursery one night. Sometimes I don’t know how to exist and be so unknown. Even when we didn’t speak, he knew me. No one has known me in years. I don’t think anyone will ever know me again.

You kiss him and try to make it like his brother would do it. He’s grateful. Sam’s grateful for a lot of things. He calls your lives together an “apple pie life.” But you don’t like apple pie. Or maybe you do. It doesn’t matter.

It’s okay. You’re just Sam Winchester’s wife. You’ve got a son named Dean.

You’ve spent your whole life sharing them both with a dead man. 

crossposted on ao3 here

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 1: Angst with a happy ending

,,Me too." | @tami-ryver

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 1,748

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Hunt Gone Wrong, Werewolves, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Major Character Injury, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Angelic Grace (Supernatural), AngstAngst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Blood, Fictober 2023

Summary: The silence is unbearable. Not even insects can be heard in the darkness, not even moon shines down on their path. The only source of light they have are the flashlights they took from the Impala. Armed with silver knives and the demon knife, they walk deep in the darkness of the forest, in search of the place where the massacre took place.

I Want You to Know That I'm Awake (I Hope That You're Asleep) | @starstiels

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 2,192

Main Tags/Warnings: depressed!dean (heavily implied), post-canon, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, first kiss, selectively mute dean, mental health issues, panic attack

Summary: Dean Winchester wants to cry. He wants to scream and yell and sob until his lungs give out and his eyes sting like needles.

The Covert Identity (WIP) | @rowanspn

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4,623 (22,561 updated)

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Sam Winchester, Florist Castiel (Supernatural), Crime Boss Lucifer (Supernatural), Kid Fic, Kid Jack Kline, Blood and Violence, Graphic depictions of violence

Summary: Dean Winchester loves his job; working as a secret agent has its perks. There is nothing quite like the thrill of saving people and hunting down criminals. And with his baby brother Sammy at his side, it’s a family business. However, when he and Sam are assigned to the case of Lucien Shurley, a suspected crime lord with a rap sheet a mile long, Dean’s semi-predictable life takes a turn for the unprecedented and over complicated. He and Sam must go undercover to investigate Lucien’s own family, his brothers Gabriel and Castiel, and his young son, Jack, to find out just how involved they truly are. As the stakes rise and the body count follows, it is up to Sam and Dean to solve the greatest mystery of their careers; who is Castiel Novak and what does he know?

he's gonna take my files | @autisticandroids

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6,191

Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Saves Cas from the Empty, Afterlife, Triangulation of Desire, Memories, Trauma, Hurt Cas, Canon Divergent, Canon Remix, Warnings in Author's Note

Summary: Dean goes to the Empty, where Cas is floating through his memories.

when doves cry | @watchinghimrakeleaves

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 6,821

Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Season/Series 09, Not Canon Compliant, Winchester Coping Mechanisms, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: When Dean asks Cas to leave the bunker, all he can do is hope that the fallen angel is safe and doing okay. But when he reaches out to Cas to check in, he's surprised by the anger he's met with. Forced to consider whether or not he made the right call, Dean must reckon with how to fix things between him and the man he worries he may have lost forever.

Forest Fever | @amaranthhiding

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8,586

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Universe, Post-Ep 12x10, Monster of the Week, Hallucinations, Injured Castiel, Protective Dean, (Emotional) Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Praying, Angel Grace, Humor (mostly in the epilogue)

Summary: After the crushing events of episode 12x10 "Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets", Castiel is low on grace and morale. In an attempt to restore at least one of these two, Sam and Dean take him on a hunt. Things start going wrong when Sam gets injured and Cas seemingly disappears. They get worse when Dean turns from hunter to prey for something feeling far more at home in this dark, rainy forest than he does.

Send Me a Postcard | @blessyourhondahurley

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 10,387

Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel is Saved from the Empty, First Kiss, References to Depression, Bisexual Dean Winchester

Summary: Shortly after his rescue from the Empty, Cas hits the road late one night without telling anyone he's leaving. Two weeks later, a postcard arrives for Dean.

whisper your name without making a noise | @deancaskiss

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 12,577

Main Tags/Warnings: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Muteness, Mute Dean Winchester, traumatic mutism, Mutism, Major Character Undeath, Dean Winchester to the Rescue, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel, Pining, POV Dean Winchester, Kissing, Boys Kissing, French Kissing, Rough Kissing, Gentle Kissing, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, Drinking to Cope, Drinking Alcohol, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Getting Together, Dean Winchester is Not Okay, Happy Ending, Post-Canon, Post-Season/Series 15, Fix-It, Character Death Fix, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Castiel/Dean Winchester UST, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, The Empty (Supernatural), the handprint, Dean Winchester's Jacket

Summary: Losing Cas to the Empty felt like Dean was losing a piece of himself. I love you, Cas had said; and then he was gone before Dean got the chance to tell Cas how he felt. But Cas might have taken more than just Dean’s heart when the Empty ripped him away. Cas is gone, and so is Dean’s voice. Traumatic mutism: according to Sam and Eileen, Dean had been through a traumatic experience losing Cas and now he was mute. So, Eileen taught Dean sign language, and Sam bought notebooks for Dean to write out his thoughts. But Dean never stopped aching for Cas; praying to him every day and searching for a way to bring Cas home. When Dean finds a way into Empty, it’s a fight like he’s never fought before. Scream, Dean, scream, the Empty taunts. But Dean can’t stop until he’s rescued Cas, kissed his angel breathless, and told Cas the truth about how he feels—voice or no voice.

Taking one for the team | @artichokegarden

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16,846

Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Stanford Era, Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, Voyeurism, Kink Negotiation, Kink Discovery, Praise Kink, BDSM, Spanking, Whipping, Bath Sex, Hair Washing, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Abusive John Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, POV Castiel, Angst with a Happy Ending, Porn with Feelings

Summary: Cas blinked slowly. “Your father sent you to his friend’s sex club as bait for a sex monster. And you want me to find your lost memories of this for you?”

“Don’t you start, Cas. We need to find out what happened, or those women are as good as dead. If I wanted to listen to a load of crap about dad’s parenting choices, I’d have told all this to Sam in the first place, instead of biting his head off for asking. Let’s just agree he wasn’t winning father of the year for this one and let it go, okay?”

When women start going missing from sex clubs, Cas investigates Dean's memories of a Stanford-Era case and finds some secrets there that could help their relationship in the present.

this bitter nightcall | @abi-cosmos

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 32,514

Main Tags/Warnings: Djinn curse, Jealous Dean Winchester, Hallucinations, Unreliable narrator, Heavy angst, Implied Castiel/Mick Davies, Inappropriate smut, Dean doesn't know what's real, Love confessions, Post-season 12, Very brief almost major character death, Hurt/Comfort, Case fic, True love's kiss

Summary: Dean gets touched by a djinn, but it's all cool. Or, is it?

Forced to confront his desires, Dean's grip on reality slips. Leaving Castiel, Sam, and Mick Davies trying to find a way to save him before it’s too late.

If only they knew that the cure is right in front of them.

Gracefully Yours, Always | @thefandomsinhalor

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 39,815

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Episode: S09E10, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Temporary Blindness, Angelic Grace, Hurt Dean

Summary: As Dean hopelessly waits for Gadreel and Crowley to be expelled from Sam’s body, he and Castiel are unexpectedly ambushed by Malachi and the remainder of his soldiers, seeking retribution for what Castiel has done to his faction. Because Castiel gets gravely injured in the fight, Dean resists the urge to isolate himself, and instead returns to the bunker with his friend and Sam, determined to put an end to the fallen angel madness, and also, perhaps, try to understand why, after everything he’s done, Castiel still stands by his side.

Still Waters Run Deep | @thisisapaige

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 41,168

Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent After s15e09 The Trap, Hurt/Comfort, Mute Castiel, Mark of Cain, Aquaphobia, Claustrophobia, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester

Summary: In the darkest depths of the ocean, sealed into the ma'lak box with Chuck trapped behind the Mark, Castiel loses the battle against God's rage. When Sam and Dean find Castiel on a dark patch of highway— the Mark missing and his grace weak— he cannot speak.

It rains. It rains and it rains and it rains. It is a Great Flood.

In order to stop God, save the world, and resolve the issues simmering between them for years, Castiel and Dean need to communicate.

Perhaps they should build an ark instead.

When I Knew You | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 54,272

Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, Time Travel, Bartender Dean Winchester, Editor Castiel, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Incorrect Science, Social Anxiety, Sharing a Bed

Summary: Shortly after moving into his new house, Dean Winchester finds a strange, flickering light in the middle of his living room. When he touches it, he’s transported two years into the past, to the days when a man named Castiel Novak lived in the house.

Dean’s own time pulls him back eventually, but the gateway to the past keeps appearing, and Dean keeps visiting Cas — sometimes for minutes, sometimes for hours. They soon fall in love, but there is no possible future for them, for one simple reason: in a few weeks, Cas is supposed to die.

As the date of Cas’ death draws closer, will Dean be able to save his life? And if he does… will the two of them find a way to be together in the same time?

On the flip side | Joysprings (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up

Word Count: 64,357

Main Tags/Warnings: Lgbtq, Polyamorous characters, Blood and Injury, Time Jumps, Neurodivergence, Autistic Castiel, Emotional Abuse, Pilot Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Grief and Mourning, Temporary Character Death, Domestic Destiel, Dean and Cas are dad's, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending I Promise,

Summary: A little over a year after airforce test pilot Dean Winchester's plane crashes and goes missing, its finally found. Castiel Winchester, Dean's widowed husband reflects on his grief and his memory re visits the most significant points of their relationship throughout their time together and how they shaped the present. The whole family is left to deal with the resurfaced trauma from the initial accident, and will finally learn about what truly happened, uncovering new and unexpected answers. This is their journey.

(Story will alternate chapters from the present to past time stamps)

the weight of your bones | Chi_Yagami (Ao3)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 66,780

Main Tags/Warnings: afterlife, soulmates (sort of), canon divergent, hunter Dean Winchester, human Castiel, kid Jack Kline, angst with a happy ending, touch-starved, flashbacks/discussions of death, panic attacks

Summary: After rescuing his brother's fiancée from a house fire he doesn't survive, Dean Winchester finds himself in Heaven. He's immediately suspicious—after all, with everything he's done during his time on Earth... there's no way he deserves to be here. He lives in a beautiful neighborhood right down the street from his parents, in an amazing house that he shares with his new soulmate, Cas—a man Dean's never even met. Despite Dean's best efforts to keep his distance, Cas seems determined to make their new relationship work in the afterlife.

However, Cas doesn't understand... he isn't aware of Dean's past. Cas doesn't know that all Dean's good for is destroying relationships and ganking monsters. Cas doesn't know that Dean once got an innocent civilian killed on a case, doesn't know of the cave that haunts Dean's dreams. People are made of memories they bury or live by, and Dean chose to bury his a long time ago.

But as Cas chips away at Dean's resistance... the once-forgotten bones begin to surface.

When Tomorow Comes | @teeparadigm67

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 78,994

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Season 15 rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Angst, Lots of Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty (kind of), Dean Winchester is Protective of Castiel, Dean Winchester is Saved, First Time, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Love Confessions, Castiel's Loss of Angelic Grace, Dean Winchester in the Empty, First Kiss, The World is Saved, Smut, Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean Winchester's Taste in Music, Sharing a Bed, Frottage, Men of Letters Bunker, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Happy Ending, Alternate Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15

Summary: When hunting for the Leviathan blossom, Castiel gets taken. Tired, desperate and wanting to tell him all the things left unsaid before it’s too late, Dean prays to him. But he realises... standing there, in the grey hellish landscape, the portal home flickering just beside them with seconds left on the timer, they're already were too late.

Running himself ragged fuelled solely by caffeine, whisky, and that trademark Winchester determination, he will find a way to stop Chuck and to save Cas. However, this isn't the blaze of glory Dean had always envisioned going out in. But, deep down, he would go out swinging to save a loved one. Those bright shining penetrating tear-soaked eyes are the last thing he sees before his vision is marred, the desperate plea of his name dampened by the black ooze filling his eardrums as the essence of the Empty wraps around him and pulls him pulled from existence into the dark.

All because of that simple prayer, the ending Chuck had always planned was rewritten.

The Unbroken | @casblackfeathers

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 126,551

Main Tags/Warnings: zombie apocalypse, bed sharing, hurt and comfort, angel castiel, protective dean, soft dean, endverse, bamf castiel, bottom dean

Summary: Dean’s life had been made of running. He ran from a curse that had desolated his life ever since he was a child — whenever he got hurt, he turned into a goddamn human-torch, killing everyone around him — and he ran from himself and his own self-loathing.

But managing all that at the end of a world full of Croats lurking around every corner was easier said than done.

Until a mysterious man with tousled dark hair paired with blue eyes as clear as the sky during a hot summer’s day stopped him from free falling, literally. In one fell swoop, the stranger had not only saved his life but also calmed the wildfire threatening to burn everything in its wake.

There was something about Castiel that made Dean want to stop running but also hid something darker — something Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on. And between soft, pillowy lips and feather-like fingerprints, Cas could very well shatter Dean’s world and maybe help save the whole world in return.

Fortunate Son (WIP) | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 128,610

Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Vietnam War, Character Death (but no MCD), Blood and Injury, Counterculture, Recreational Drug Use, Mutual Pining, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Period-Typical Homophobia, Coming Out, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Getting Back Together, Suicidal Thoughts

Summary: The year is 1966, the place is Kansas, and Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are falling in love. But with Castiel under the thumb of his conservative parents and Dean set to ship out to Vietnam, there is no possible future for them.

As Castiel’s life turns upside down and the hell of Vietnam threatens to swallow Dean’s soul, it will take everything they have to find their way back to each other. But some things are worth waiting — and fighting — for.

[transchesters]

sam and castiel spend their evening talking, leading dean to discover sam can speak ennochain, and sam doesn’t know what love means. inspired by this post from @wendibird !

"do you ever miss heaven? the way it used to be?" sam asks, lifting his eyes from the current men of letter's record that he is reading so he can meet castiel's eyes. the angel sits across the table from him sam and dean had just gotten back from a hunt, one that was pretty cut and dry, and now he and castiel are engaging in their own reading and research, enjoying the quiet company of one another while dean showers.

castiel glances up as well, setting down the leather-bound book he has been purusing. his brow furrows in the way it often does, the way that sam can't help but smild fondly at. "sometimes i do, yes," he answers after a moment of thought. "but then i recall that heaven was never..." he trails off, as if searching for the right words. "heaven was never as ideal and perfect as i had believed. i was ignorant and blinded by my devotion to my father, but with time and distance i have come to realize that heaven was not the home i thought it was."

sam nods silently, feeling a certain understanding for the slight grief he thinks he observes in castiel. "did you ever meet him? god, i mean?"

a fond, perhaps bittersweet smile pulls at castiel's lips as he nods. "yes. when i was created, he brought me down to earth and spoke to me about mankind. he entrusted me to care for his most beloved creations."

it's then that dean is steps into the doorway, pausing there at the domestic scene before him. he can’t help himself from eavesdropping, because what on earth could these two be talking about that has them looking all… lovey-dovey? as his brain processes the last things spoken, he realizes... he has no idea what the hell castiel had been saying. a confused expression pinches his face. had he been hearing things?

"how long ago was that?"

"you would not believe me if i told you."

"it used to be hard for me to comprehend just how old you are, or the earth and angels in general," sam starts, his own brow pinching a little, "back when we first met you. before... before the cage. but i think i understand better now." dean darts his eyes back and forth as the conversation continues, chills running down his back which cause goosebumps to erupt over his arms. as he watches, sam and castiel are switching from speaking english to... something else, and dean has no clue what.

actually, with a sudden realization, he does have a clue.

"your time there, it must have felt like... centuries. no wonder your ennochian is so good. does it bother you to speak it? i cannot imagine you have good memories of the language."

sam blinks, as if shocked by castiel’s compliment, which helps him ignore the memories that do in fact resurface. "really?" he asks, still oblivious to the minor panic attack he and castiel are subjecting dean to. "most of the time, i don't even realize i'm speaking ennochian. it just… happens, i guess. but i do like speaking it with you. i get to make new memories, with you." he doesn't try to hide the warmth behind the words as he usually does.

dean slams his book shut, suddenly unable to remain quiet. "you speak what? since when?!"

sam and castiel are both startled by the sudden exclamation, glancing over at the eldest winchester in sync, which makes dean wonder just how much he’s been missing.

"since the cage," sam answers after a moment, his brow furrowed. "i… guess i forgot to mention it."

dean scoffs, full of disbelief. "dude, what the hell? you can speak some weird, angelic language and forgot to mention it?"

"actually, the ennochian that sam speaks is even older than the tongue i am used to," castiel speaks up, as if that were a fact that would help diffuse the situation. now sam and dean both turn their confused glances at the angel, though dean is much more perturbed than sam.

"i didn’t know that," sam mumbles, sounding thoughtful at this new information. "i guess it makes sense, though. i learned from lucifer and michael, and they probably spoke a much older tongue than most angels." the names fall from his lips, coated in pain, but he ignores it.

castiel gets the sense that sam doesn't want to dwell on those names and that pain, so he just nods in agreement. "yes, i think that's the case."

"alright, y'know what, that's enough freakiness for me for the night. sam, we'll talk about this later." dean shakes his head as if disappointed, groaning as he turns on his heel and soon disappears down the hallway leading to his room. as usual, he doesn't notice the pinched and pained expression he's caused on sam's face.

sam heaves a sigh, folding his hands on the table in front of him and staring down at them as if they would provide some sort of answers. he flinches when, suddenly, castiel’s hand envelops his own.

"he speaks rashly, sam, and does not mean it maliciously," castiel says gently, meeting sam’s multicolored eyes with a smile. "he doesn’t understand."

sam tries to relax under castiel's touch and his gaze, his eyes so full of warmth and the understanding he doesn't get from his brother. but he doesn't want to think about dean right now; instead, he considers the fact that he and this wonderful angel have been dancing around whatever this was for quite some time now. but sam feels like they might be reaching a point they can't ignore any longer.

"cas…" sam trials off, because what is he supposed to say here? everything about this is wrong. castiel isn't supposed to think of him this way, isn't supposed to look at him with such fondness. "don't look at me like that. i'm just some human."

now it's castiel's turn to look pained, and he sits forward in his seat, leaning closer to the other. "sam, please, don't say such things about yourself. you are not filth."

sam's lips part in shock, but his clenching stomach stops him from speaking. "filth? i thought…" he swallows painfully and shakes his head. "lucifer called me that. i thought it meant human."

castiel lets out a sharp exhale, feeling a ball of rage grow in his stomach. "no. it doesn't." sam nods silently, leaning back in his seat which makes their hands pull apart. castiel can't help but chase the contact.

"don't we both deserve some comfort, after all of this? can't you see that i love you, very deeply, and i'm tired of hiding it?"

sam blinks, his brow furrowed as he tries to place some of the words he can't recognize. "love?" he repeats, the ennochian word foreign on his tongue. "what is that word? i don't think i've heard it." he grows even more confused when castiel gazes at him with a profound sadness. the angel squeezes his hand, almost tight enough to be painful, but sam doesn't complain.

"love. it means love, sam. i was saying that i love you."

[lailawinchesterr]

remedy (iv) — sam winchester

> prev , series masterlist

summary: maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to go back to sam’s place. or maybe it’s a good thing you did — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing, mentioned praying, canon divergence.

There’s a man, a very beautiful one, sure, standing in Sam’s apartment. His eyes are hungry as they glide over you. His… eyes. That seem way too similar to those the man next to you owns yet so different. His are a bright green for one, you’re scared to stare too long in them incase they grow trees. Cliche? Doesn’t matter, it’s the truth, they’re so green.

You can’t hear what’s going on, but him and Sam seem to have a full on conversation with no words. Maybe the other guy won because he takes the step forward as Sam sighs and shuts the apartment door behind you guys. You keep your hand close to your purse and you can feel it vibrate vigorously, you’re sure it’s Jess wanting information on what the fuck you’re doing at Sam’s house— which great question, what are you doing here?

Cause you were thinking talk, eat, make out, not particularly in that order. Now it seems ‘talk to random guy while you try not to have a panic attack’ has been added to the list. Well, too bad, the list is exclusive. “Now who are you?”

Sam says your name through gritted teeth, “this is my brother Dean.” You swallow your fear and nod once. Introducing yourself despite Sam having done it a second before. “What are you doing here, man?” Sam walks away from the door to throw his car keys onto the counter, a few feet away from you, closer to Dean.

“Doesn’t matter now, seems like you’re busy,” and he’s actually smirking. At you. Why is it kind of attractive— no, focus! Focus on your surroundings, and count to ten so you don’t explode. “Of course, I wouldn’t dream of taking him away from you, sweetheart.” Dean says so sweetly that you actually believe it’s for your own benefit, he’s closer now, both hands hovering over your arms but not exactly touching which you’re grateful for. 

You smile tightly and look up at Sam in a silent call for help. “Why are you here, Dean?” He repeats sternly and crosses his arms at his brother. You’ve always noticed how small Sam makes himself when he’s talking to other people, mostly girls, like he doesn’t want to overpower them when he easily could, it helps calm you down, for sure, but when he’s doing it with his brother, it’s different. 

It’s out of love, devotion, trust. And it’s scary to see because you feel like you’re watching a scene that’s not yours to analyze. But he’s letting you. Dean winks at you once before turning around to face Sam. 

“Let’s talk. Privately.” Dean clicks his tongue in the direction of Sam’s room and he agrees, moving over to you again, putting both hands on your shoulder. It has the opposite effect that dean’s had on you. It’s calming— sedating. 

“You stay in my room, I’ll come get you.” And then he steals glances around your whole face, like he’s studying your features, “do you wanna leave? I can drive you home.”

You open your mouth to protest before shutting it again. Does that mean he wants you to leave? Is it an indirect un-invitation? He looks sincere though. “I’m askin’ ‘cause I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable. Nothing else.”

You take a breath before shaking your head, then decide to use your voice like the big girl you are— because otherwise you’re a toddler, scared by her fathers side at the mall. “Yeah, I’ll stay in your room. But if you want me to leave, Sam—.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He gives you a half smile but it’s enough to melt your insides. “You can use whatever you want in there, and the Wi-FI’s password is written on the wall.” You all but run into his room and away from the two brothers, shutting the door with a loud slam. 

This is super normal and not at all worrying. You should text your mum in case it’s the last time. Hold that thought— Jessica first. 

As promised, the password is on the door, written in a paper stuck on the back of it. You put it in then text Jess back.

Jess: What is happening!!!!

Jess: What’s happened to ‘never gonna happen’.

Jess: Are you fucking? Don’t tell me.

Jess: Don’t fuck him!!!! He could be not single.

What. The. Hell. 

You: What?

Jess: Thank fuck. You’re not having sex, right? Or did he finish already? Jess: He used to be better at it.

You: What do you mean he’s not single?

Jess: Not saying he isn’t but Gen says he’s been talking to some girls, it’s why she was worried about you going out.

Jess: We don’t know if he’s just friends with these girls or not but she says he’s been texting + going out with Lily.

You: Oh but they’re project partners.

Jess: Yeah they just got assigned today. They’ve been going out alone for a few weeks now.

You: Before or after the party?

Jess: Since before. They didn’t stop after the party either. 

God, you’re going to be sick. Great so he’s dropping off the face of the earth with his brother, but before he does that he’s breaking your heart. ‘Cause why the fuck do one when you can do both? 

And the worst part is you have no reason to be upset about any of this. He doesn’t owe you an explanation about Lily or Dean or whether or not he’s taking the semester off or if he’s staying after graduation— it’s all a lot. You thought this would be the beginning of something. Something worthwhile, and he was having fun, just passing the time.

You enter the bathroom to make sure your makeup is still intact. It isn’t, but you did it up quite quickly and have enough time to snoop around. You can cry over a man when you’re alone in the comfort of your room, not his. Even the room is so perfectly him. There’s pictures almost everywhere and you remember hearing him or Jess mention how much he’s into photography, took after his mother. He’s in only two of the pictures. 

One of them has Dean and an older man you assume is their father. The other is him and Jess, back from when they’re dating— other than that it’s mostly scenery and his friends. There’s even one of Jess and Gen with your best friend laying her head on Gen’s lap. 

You’re about to ruffle through the desk when you hear rustling and a loud groan from one of the boys. Then another and— oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck, are they fighting?

When you’re mother first equipped you for America she had two rules:

Don’t speak to strangers.

Hold rocks in your purse to hit said stranger if they want to fight.

That’s really all, and you’ve held up your end of the deal. But she never really told you what to do when the stranger isn’t a stranger and you’re actually in their house and he’s fighting his brother. 

You peek through the window and— nope, you’re on the third floor. Too far away to jump. Maybe you should try to rummage around here for a cigarette? Yeah, that’s a good idea. You desperately go through drawers without actually going through them— you don’t want to invade his privacy, just find the damn pack you know he has around here— oh, a disposable. Okay, pOtato, potAto.

You take a second to pray that it’s not dead before taking a drag and, thank God, blueberry. Huh, seems like Sam has a preference. Maybe he asked Jess to bring blueberry cigarettes last time, now that would be a turn of events. And it would also mean he lied to you, how are you supposed to feel about that? About the same way you feel about him hanging out with Lily? He never mentioned it. And back at the mall he said ‘I don’t wanna leave you’, what, did he say that to Lily too? Is he trying out to become an anchor? 

You take three more drags before the door is thrown off its hinges and Sam stomps right through it and into his bathroom. Oh. He doesn’t even spare you a glance and you find yourself looking for dean. He’s right there, breathing just as heavily as Sam was, but that didn’t stop him from sending another wink your way, a little slow and lazy.

For the first time in your life, you decide to muster up enough courage to walk over to him, offering his brother’s vape to him. Look at that, your mother did teach you manners.

He shakes his head and takes a step back to lean on the kitchen counter. The support is welcomed by his whole body as he almost collapses into it. “We didn’t scare you, did we?”

Fuck yeah, you’re scared. Who does this dude think he’s talking to? An FBI agent? You’re a college girl studying Med, hearing police sirens while you’re walking at night creep you out.

But you shake your head anyways because, again, manners. “Are you okay?” You ask with genuine concern. You step a little closer to examine the bruise on his head, right below his hairline. 

Does that mean that Sam had a matching one? Should you go help him?

“Sam’s fine.” Oh. That’s good.

“But you’re not. Do you know where he keeps his first aid kit? I can clean it up for you.” Dean adamantly shakes his head, making you frown. Wasn’t he hitting on you minutes ago? Now he doesn’t wanna touch you? “Dean, are you sure? You should really clean that up. It might get infected.” Highly unlikely but it’s not good to keep it unsterile anyways.

“I’m fine,” he grits out, but it’s not as harsh as you expect. He’s just overwhelmed, maybe, or angry. At himself? At Sam? At you for intruding? And then he sighs, takes an incredibly deep breath like it’s taking everything in his soul and mind to say, “‘fine, yeah, you can do it.” As if you offered to blow him or something. Grow up, man, you were just trying to help.

Again, manners. So you keep your polite tone as you ask him again for the first aid kit and he says this is his first time here. Great, you’re both strangers in Sam’s home but at least one of you was invited, Dean.

“You don’t seem to like me very much.” He says quietly as you keep opening and shutting drawers. Sam’s a responsible guy, he must have something lying around. 

“I don’t not like you. I just don’t know you. And Sam is my friend who you just beat up so I’m not exactly fond of you at the moment, no.” Honesty’s great. Yeah, give it right to the man who’s a couple inches taller than you and packing on more muscle than you can imagine yourself having if you workout for ten years straight. Smart ideas all around, really. 

You take another longer drag this time. The buzz is worth it, it’s helping you relax enough that you’re not about to blow your head off about being in Sam’s house with Dean.

Another hit: from both the vape and Dean, “He hit me first.”

“Did you provoke him?” Dean shrugs like a child trying to feign innocence. It’s obvious this is all Dean’s fault and he knows it, you just wish you knew the reason. “Why, though? What happened?”

He hesitates then shuts his mouth closed. Now he chooses to be a good brother?

You find the first aid kit under all the drawers (which, fuck you, Sam, why would you do that?) and ask Dean to sit on one of the chairs. He obeys and you start to take out the rubbing alcohol, “this part will sting a little, so try to hold on to something— not me!” You shriek when his hands land on your waist. 

“Closest thing,” he shrugs like it’s nothing and you take a deep breath, applying more alcohol to the cotton. He can take it.

He doesn’t groan out when you pat the cotton onto the small wound, just hisses. The man hisses like he just got cold coffee spilled on him, the wound isn’t massive or anything, but really? How high is someone’s pain tolerance to be able to do that? 

You don’t want to think about it because tolerance is built. And that’s just… not a fun thing to ponder on. You try to finish as quickly as possible and half way through his hands on your waist don’t bother you anymore, a minute after, he eases them off. Dean doesn’t seem like he wants to cause issues, he’s just… troubled. Though you’re sure he’d deck you twice as hard as he did to Sam if you mention that.

Speaking of the devil, he’s out of the bathroom with fresh clothes but it’s apparent he didn’t shower. Just in his home clothes. Cute considering you’re not which means you’re overdressed between the three of you. You finish Dean up and place a bandage on the bruise. “There!” 

You smile as you examine your work and move back. Your first ever patient! It’s exciting to think you did so well without any guidance even when your hand was shaking the whole time. “Thanks, angel, where’d you learn that?”

“Angel?”

“She’s in Med. What are you still doing here, Dean?” Sam’s voice is rough, like he’s been shouting. Were they yelling? How did you not hear them? 

Oh, the buzz. Would giving Sam the Dispo now be rude? Come to think of it, taking it was rude. Oh, God, is this what stealing feels like?

“Hey,” Sam calls your name and you snap out of it, whipping your head back to face him. “You okay?” He’s wearing a black shirt. Just plain black, which is tight in all the right places, and grey sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. Who on this earth sold this man grey sweatpants? What were they thinking? They weren’t obviously, but you are. You can see it clearly now: College Girls Drop Dead At The Hand Of A Sam Winchester. Reason Of Death: The Sweatpants. 

“You okay?” Why is he asking again? Were you staring? 

“I’m fine. Are you?” You walk away from Dean and his magnetic hold on you to check Sam out. Last time you touched him was— never. He’s always touched you first. So… here goes nothing. You had your hands up for a second, asking for permission, consent, whatever, and his gaze switches from your eyes to your lips then back again so you take it as a yes and move his hair from his face. 

There are no injuries, you’re sure of it, but maybe you should run your hands through his hair just in case. For his safety. You drop your hands like it’s on fire before you actually do it and smile up at him. “Good, you’re okay.” He nods and looks past you, probably at Dean and you sigh. Okay. Night ruined.

“Okay, so, I’m gonna go and I’ll see you—” Sam furrows his eyes brows and shakes his head placing his hands on your shoulders. Again.

“No, no, you said you stay. We agreed to it.”

“Right, but that was before I knew your brother was staying over—”

“He’s not. You can still take Gen’s room. Don’t worry. He’s just leaving, right, Dean?” He bites out and your eyes widen. 

“No, no, Sam, seriously, not a big deal—”

“Do you wanna leave?” How is that relevant! You don’t, honestly. After hearing what Jess had to say about Sam and now Dean’s beat up face, Sam wanting to leave, it’s a lot to process. And you were fine with processing it next to Sam as long as you guys could talk about it but he seems on edge now, erratic, you don’t want to mess with him, or stay in a house alone with him when he’s like this. 

He doesn’t seem like he’ll hurt you, infact, his face softens the second he looks at you, but you can’t risk it. “Sam, it’s not that I don’t want to…” He raises his eyebrows for a second before scoffing letting go of you. “It’s not… it just seems like there’s a lot for you right now, I don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

“I want you in the middle of it.” Is someone escorting Dean out or will you have to confess your feelings in the middle of the crowded kitchen/living room? “But if you want to leave then I’ll drive you, it’s fine. I just need you to know that I want you to stay.”

And with those eyes? Those eyes and that hair falling over those eyes? How can you say no? You let out a shaky breath before throwing yourself into his chest and he easily wraps his arms around you. This is probably the second time you’ve hugged ever, but it’s worth every second because Sam’s so much taller than you in a way that’s comforting beyond belief. Not just because he tries to make himself smaller, but because he carries himself that way too. Small equals ‘there for you’ and ‘your wall’. And he kind of is. His arms are solid against you back and you feel a strand of your hair get caught in between his fingers. 

It doesn’t take a few seconds for you to pull away— both out of respect for Dean and because you don’t want to overdo it with Sam. “I’ll stay. In Gen’s room.” He nods like it’s the end of it but you add, “If you promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t kick me out.” He frowns. You take out the vape from your back pocket, “I found it in your drawer. Sorry.” He smiles and leans down to your ears, “what’s mine’s yours, sweetheart.” He’s saying it to be kind, whatever, but it still makes your heart flutter to hear. 

He points to the room behind his, the only other door in the apartment, says it’s Gen’s room and that the sheets are clean. Which translates to: ‘go inside and I’ll get rid of Dean’.

True to his unspoken words, Dean is gone in less than fifteen minutes and you’re kind of disappointed you didn’t say goodbye. Sam comes into the room to find you on the bed, vape in one hand, phone in the other, texting.

“What’re you doing?” He shuts the door behind him and your eyes skim your surroundings. Alone in a room with Sam. 

“Texting. Jess. She’s been worried the whole night and I didn’t want her to freak out.”

“Oh, why’d she be freaked?” Fuck your brain and your oversharing tendencies and fuck you Sam for being obversant.

“Just— you know—”

“I don’t.” Well, duh, or else you wouldn’t ask, but the answer isn’t one you’re willing to give so you shrug and lean into the bed further, still above the sheets. You can’t believe you’re sleeping in jeans just to stay over at Sam’s. The things you do on low sleep, man. “Are you comfortable?” At least he isn’t a dick that insists on your answer.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just, you’re wearing jeans.” 

“That’s what I came with, yes.”

“Do you wanna change? I can get you something else to wear? Besides, aren't you cold?” He’s right, the only thing that was keeping you warm was the green jacket you had on which was discarded on the chair, leaving you in a tank top. You’re cold, sure, a little uncomfortable, maybe, but enough to take Sam’s clothes… yes, you’d take them even if you weren’t freezing your ass off.

“What do you have?” You smile a little before he points to Gen’s closet and oh. Right. The other girl that lives here. “Sam, no it’s fine, I don’t want to intrude on Gen.” Rummaging through Sam’s thing while he’s in the room next to you is fine, using Gen’s clothes while she’s in another house? Not respectful. 

“She wouldn’t mind—”

“Honestly, I’m not that cold.”

“You’re shivering.” Not to sound like a three year old or anything but someone could practically blow on you and you’d shiver. It's not that serious. But when you tell him that he shakes his head and walks out of the door. Is he pissed off? Like actually genuinely pissed off? Should you look through Gen’s closet for something to wear so he’d be okay? That seems wrong but… it’s his house, his rules.

You’re still heavily overthinking it by the time he comes back and you let out a breath of pure relief. He can’t be that mad if he’s back. And he’s handing you clothes. “Here, mine. So your moral obligations can rest.” You smile and shake your head, getting out of the bed. His hand’s extended so you take it anyways.

“Sam, I’m fine like this—”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans, and you can’t convince me to.” You notice his dimples for the first time. Sam is all smiles whenever he’s around people, but you’ve never actually noticed his dimples before, and they’re just as perfect as the rest of him that you’re jealous. And in love, just a little. 

“Sam,” you call out as he turns to walk out. He knows what’s coming. You know what’s coming. Your sister knows what’s coming (you found time to fill her in). “What happened with Dean out there? I thought you said he’d want you to leave. Didn’t you want to go with him?”

His shoulders deflate and he turns around. “It’s nothing, just got rough.”

“Meaning? Come on, he was the whole reason we went out tonight then you find him at your house and you’re not freaked? Tell me what happened.” Pushy is one word to call what you’re doing. Another is fucking annoying. You won’t even say the third.

“Dean’s— Dad. Our Dad is… he’s gone or he’s hiding or something and Dean wants me to look for him.” His dad is lost… as an exterminator? Okay… 

“Why aren’t you guys freaked out?”

“Because he’s usually just takin’ a break from Dean or something but Dean says he’s sure that he’s actually gone missing—”

“Then call the police.” You say obviously and Sam purses his lips. He’s not irritated, but he looks like he doesn’t want to explain the situation to you so you back off. “I’m going to change.” You say as you head for the bathroom door, “but look, Sam, talk to me, okay? If you want. Or Lily or Jess but talk—”

“Lily?” He interrupts with a scowl, a hand coming up to tame his slightly messed up hair. 

“Yeah, you know, your friends.”

“Me and Lily aren’t like… friends friends.”

“I don’t know, people say otherwise,” okay now he’s irritated, “but anyways, none of my business obviously, I’m going to change.”

“Hey, stop doing that. Stop avoiding something the second you say it! Why would you bring up Lily?”

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth and shrug, the clothes suddenly feeling twenty kilograms heavier in your hand. “Jess said you guys have been going out for a while now. Which, you know, I don’t know how she’d feel about me staying over—”

“I told you she’s my presentation partner.” His voice isn’t raised, just seems like he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from and you sound like you don’t want to be having this conversation. Because you don’t. 

“Yeah, but Jess said you’ve been hanging out even before Lily’s birthday party and I just didn’t want to assume or anything, I guess.” He steps closer to you and you contemplate taking a step back but he’s already close enough to touch you now. He takes the clothes in your hands and placed them on the chair next to him. “Sam, it’s fine, obviously, I just don’t want her to be mad.”

“I’m not with Lily, and we’re not dating or anything. We study together sometimes, we’re friends and she’s cool but we’re just that. Friends.” You nod and take a step back to help you breathe better, “I’m not just saying that. We are.”

“You don’t have to convince me of anything, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t want you thinking that I like anyone that way,” he says the last word as he moves towards you. You’re trapped between his body and the bathroom door behind you. 

“Like a relationship?” He nods and you consider asking if he thinks of you like that but you couldn’t handle the rejection if you tried. 

You turn the knob around and slam the fucking door in Sam’s face. 

part five; smear the innocence of my lips.

title: beautiful boy by esha tewari

main masterlist

have no idea how I finished this in one sitting. 4k worlds in one sitting is my new record. hope you guys liked this one, I like where it’s going right now but I’m racking my brain for an ending soon if you have ideas tell me.

and if you wanna be tagged for future chapters, comment!

Tag list:

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[virtualreader]

silver blade

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: reader heroically kills a shapeshifter to save Dean, but not without getting hurt in the process. When the blood covering the reader's hands, nearly triggers a panic attack, Dean is quick to comfort her.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: gore, not natural creatures (if u know, u know), anxiety, panic attack, blood, grotesque killing, wounds, emotional shock. could be read as romantic or platonic.

a/n: i live for hurt/comfort fics. also, i thrive on feedback, so don't think twice and send me some! constructive criticism is also welcomed!

"Dammit, Dean," you cursed under your breath as you tried calling Dean, only to be sent straight to voicemail once again. To say you were exasperated was an understatement. You couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that was starting to creep up on you. “Where the hell are you, guys?”

As little as a single missed call was enough to seed concern within you. One—they had probably walked into a crowded bar. Two—Dean had most likely found a chick worth flirting with. Nine in the span of two hours? Nine voicemail messages and no sign neither of the brothers were still alive? Now that was downright worrisome.

You slid the combination 11-02-83 into the lock, and it opened immediately with a subdued click. You had been with the Winchesters long enough to have figured out the access code to the weapons compartment. Nonetheless, you were still finding your feet in the supernatural world, not having ever seen any of the creatures you read about.

With one hand, you scrambled to lift the bottom of the trunk, gaining access to the secret compartment John had built in the '67 Impala Dean insisted on nicknaming baby.

If there was anything you had a grasp of, it was lore beyond doubt. Therefore, you sifted meticulously through the vast array of weapons until you finally laid your eyes on the one you had been seeking—a glistening silver knife, ornately engraved. Legend has it both silver bullets and silver-bladed weapons were lethal to shapeshifters, the very creature Sam and Dean were after.

As you became aware of your scarce fighting skills, you hesitated for a moment and second-guessed your brash decision to defy the blunt order to stay in the motel the Winchesters had given you. Instead of backing down and following said instructions, you headed towards the nearest sewer cleanout driven and determined, and trawled the cover aside with great effort.

With the silver knife in hand, you descended into the sewers, climbing down the rank, rusty ladder, diligently making it to the bottom. You jumped off onto the ground, which you found to be swamped with turbid water. Or at least that was what you hoped the muddy puddles soaking your feet up to the socks were.

The air was humid, and the sewer halls were silent except for the rhythmic dripping of leak drops splashing on the concrete. You took a deep, shaky breath, wondering how Sam and Dean managed to remain level-headed during hunts, especially given the unforeseen aftermath.

You were undoubtedly scared—terrified even. You bore in mind all the plausible deadly outcomes facing a creature as powerful as a shapeshifter entailed. Yet, not even that did withhold you from sacrificing your own safety for the sake of the two boys who had become your family over the past year.

You were willing to pay your weight in blood if it was their lives at stake. Without them by your side, life would only be reduced to a meaningless solitary existence. So you might as well devote yourself to wrestling them from the peril you sensed they were in.

You crept through the dark, dank sewers, your grip on the silver knife tightening with each step, refraining it from slipping from your moist trembling hands. You couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was watching you, lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce at any moment.

The stench was overwhelming, and you had to cover your nose with your free hand to avoid gagging. But you knew that giving up was not an option. You had come too far to turn back at this point.

You dropped your gaze to the concrete beneath your feet, scrutinizing the ground in search of any signs indicating Sam and Dean’s whereabouts.

One, two, three blood droplets stained the cement and left behind a vague trail. It was a somewhat chilling sight, and your thoughts immediately went to the possibility of the guys being wounded.

Barely a few feet before you laid a mucilaginous shred of skin. Next to it was a clump of dark hair, matted and tangled, still attached to its corresponding patch of torn skin. You shuddered at the realization that those gruesome remnants irrefutably belonged to the shapeshifter.

Faint grunts died out in the distance. It sounded human, and you recognized them as Dean’s. You tensed up, gripping the small bladed weapon steady in your hand.

With an adrenaline rush pumping through your veins, you crept towards the direction of the sound. The grunts grew louder, and you could now hear the pained sounds of Dean's voice as clear as day. Your heart leaped into your throat, and you picked up the pace, sprinting through the dark corridors.

You skidded to a stop as you came upon the scene. Eyes narrowed and brows raised, you did your utmost to wrap your head around the commotion you witnessed before you.

Sam laid sprawled on the floor, his mouth stuffed with a smudge rag. There was sweat and blood coating his face and clothes and his chest inflated and deflated frantically as he struggled against the plastic flange restraining his wrists.

Your attention then turned to Dean, who was pressed against the wall with his body tense with pain and fear. There was another loud thud, the broad creature gripping Dean's jacket collar tossed him onto the ground, the sound echoing throughout the sewer's hallways. Dean gasped in pain, and your heart sank even further at the sight of his helplessness.

“Y/n…get outta...here...” he spoke falteringly in a hushed tone when he registered your presence.

You followed his gaze, and your eyes locked with the shapeshifter's dusky ones. The creature’s features were practically indistinguishable under the dim light seeping through the storm drains, yet the illumination was sufficient for you to discern its current shape.

It was not human, you acknowledged that fact in its entirety. But it sure resembled a person, and not just any person. The shapeshifter, whose eyes were currently fixated on your unnerved shaky figure, had taken on Sam's form with such accuracy it left you utterly bewildered, propelling your mind into an insurmountable surge of confusion.

Its gaze was intense, almost otherworldly, and it seemed to be studying you with a cold detachment that sent shivers down your spine. The shapeshifter seemed to be waiting for your next move, but you froze, clueless as to how to act in the face of his defiant demeanor. And with each passing moment, the pressure mounted, threatening to engulf you in a tidal and paralyzing wave of haze and dread.

You felt compelled to pin your hopes on your self-reliance in order to beat the creature down. After mustering all your courage, you leaped to Dean’s defense. Without hesitation, you charged forward, brandishing the silver knife that you had retrieved from the Impala's weapons compartment.

The smug laugh of the shapeshifter only fueled your determination to protect the brothers at any cost. You saw red. With a swift motion, you plunged the blade into the shapeshifter's chest, slicing and carving it wide open out of fury, and it let out a bloodcurdling screech as it fell to the ground, lifeless.

What seemed blatant moments ago became now an incertitude, as you saw what appeared to be Sam's inanimate body on the concrete. Even if the real Sam drew breath a stone's throw away from you, growing ever more relieved as Dean aided in freeing him from the restraints, the thought of having killed the younger Winchester brother eclipsed your brain.

“I’d never peg you as the stabbing type,” joked Dean trying to alleviate the tension in the atmosphere as he helped Sam to get up, earning a sheepish 'thank you' from the younger brother. He then turned his attention to you. “Jeez, y/n, white paint has more color than your face.”

You took a step backward staring down to your hands, absolutely unable to hear what Dean was saying, let alone fathom it out. Blood was all you saw, blood drenching your hands from the very fingertips all the way up to your elbow.

When your only response to his jokes was silence, Dean began to realize that something was off. In a desperate attempt to get you to snap out of your distressed paralysis, he grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you slightly.

You looked at him, trying to discern his worried features through your foggy vision. You felt trapped inside your own mind, unable to break free from the suffocating weight of your thoughts.

"Everything's spinning, De," you muttered as you managed to loosen the knot that had formed in your throat. "Please, make it stop.”

"I promise you—your head is the only thing spinning right now," he said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. "You did good, y/n/n. You saved my ass back there."

Your usually regular and calmed breathing pattern developed into a shallow, rapid one. You could feel your heart hammering at great speed in your chest, which caused the veins in your neck to throb and made you feel rather light-headed.

"Hey, hey, hey. I've got you. I've got you," Dean whispered, pulling you into a tight embrace not willing to let you fall when he saw you swaying, and losing balance. "Just listen to my heartbeat, okay?"

You hummed in response, utterly unable to voice your distress. You could hear and feel the wallop of his heart, forcefully rapid yet steady and calming, along with the resounding sounds of his voice inside his chest. You clung to him for dear life, feeling his strong arms around you as you kept a white-knuckled grip on his plain flannel.

"That's it. Just focus on that," he reassured you, rubbing his hand up and down your back, your breathing gradually returning to its even pattern. "You're safe now. It's over."

As soon as you were out of the sewer, Dean ushered you to the Impala opening the door for you to enter the back passenger seat. As much as he loved baby, getting her bloodstained was not a problem as long as he got you safe and comfy.

The ride lasted hardly ten minutes, although to your clouded senses it felt everlasting. You made a futile attempt to divert your attention from the dry blood coating your hands to the sparse traffic outside, before your mind was dragged into the abysmal hole of anguish that the earlier incident had dug into your psyche one more time.

Throughout the ride, Sam kept asking if you were okay every now and then, displaying a genuine concern for your well-being. He knew how traumatic the experience must have been for you and wanted to make sure you were coping. His kind words and comforting presence helped soothe your frazzled nerves, even if only slightly.

Truth was you were far from okay. You were grappling with a multitude of emotions that were threatening to consume you, and the weight of your thoughts felt suffocating.

Meanwhile, Dean would occasionally shoot glances your way through the rear-view mirror, silently checking on you to make sure you were holding up. Despite his tough exterior and being kind of rough around the edges, he was quick to show his caring and nurturing side when it came to you.

The car rolled down the highway, the engine humming softly as Dean expertly downshifted gears, slowly bringing the vehicle to a smooth stop in the motel's parking lot.

You stumbled out of the car, feeling dizzy and disoriented. Dean rushed to your side, supporting you with a hand on your back.

"Easy there, champ," he said, concern lacing his voice. "Let's get you cleaned up and patched up, yeah?"

You nodded weakly, grateful for his support. It was then that you noticed the large gash on your forearm, which must have been incurred during the prior wrestling. How could you have missed it before?

The keys clattered as Sam unlocked the door to your assigned room, pushing it open gently. The three of you entered the motel's bedroom, steps heavy as your energy was depleted.

While Sam tended to his own injuries, Dean took you to the bathroom, where he turned on the tap and began to gently wash away the blood that coated your hands and arms. The touch of his fingers was soothing, and you closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of relief as the water washed away the evidence of the shapeshifter's blood.

In spite of his sarcastic jokes, you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dean was mad. And he had every right to be.

You looked up at him, feeling guilty for disobeying orders and putting yourself in danger. The instructions were clear—stay safe and focus on research. They had let you take charge of the investigation duty reluctantly, let alone get fully involved in the hunting business. But you found it impossible to resist the urge, you couldn’t stay in the motel doing nothing knowing they could be in trouble.

Notwithstanding the potential fallout, Dean didn't scold you. Instead, he patiently led you to the toilet, he retrieved the newly restocked first aid kit and gently placed it on the countertop.

“I'm sorry,” you said in a whisper. "You weren't answering my calls. I got worried sick. I'm sorry."

Dean leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"No need to be, sweetheart," he said softly, tossing his resentment for your disobedient behaviour to the back of his mind. "As much as I hate to admit this, you did what had to be done. You saved us back there."

He proceeded to tend to your wound, his touch light and careful as he cleaned and bandaged the gash on your forearm. You couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence, for his unwavering support and understanding.

As he finished up, he looked up at you with a small empathetic smile.

"You wanna crash in my room tonight?" he asked. "I promise to keep the nightmares away."

You nodded, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

The knowledge that he was there with you, ready to support you through thick and thin, was a comforting thought. With Dean by your side, you knew you could get through anything.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

How do Sam and Dean react during their little sister's anxiety attack?

I still have Kevin in mind and the headcanon of him and the Winchester sister being in a relationship so I imagine that after Kevin died, she didn't talk much about how she felt.

But after another important person in her life, Claire or Charlie, is in danger, Sister Winchester becomes nervous, anxious that someone else in her family will die. She tries to keep bad thoughts away, she is in the library (in the place where Kevin died) cleaning the weapons she is going to use but then she has an anxiety attack, Sister Winchester begins to remember what happened with Kevin and thinks that Maybe she will never be able to save the people she loves, her hands are shaking and she feels like she can't breathe, somehow she ends up on the floor, in a corner of the library with her knees hugged, shaking, until Sammy or Dean arrives.

Sam would get there first—he steps into the library, ready to get some research done, but his books are on the floor in a second and he’s by her side just as fast.

“Hey, hey.” Sam is moving her hair away from her face so he can see her—she’s crying and hyperventilating and her whole body is shaking. “Dean!” Sam would call out desperately for his big brother, because even though he knows on some level what is happening his baby sister is on the floor and she can’t breathe and he doesn’t know what to do.

Dean would be there in an instant, recognizing the panic in Sam’s voice.

“What’s wron—oh, kid.” And Dean’s right there, brushing past Sam and pulling you into his arms. “Hey sweetheart, hi. Baby I need you to breathe with me, ok? You just gotta breathe, I got you.”

Dean would take slow, exaggerated breaths to demonstrate for you. Sam would have your hands gripped in his, his thumbs comfortingly brushing over your hands.

Even after you could breathe again, nobody let go for a minute. Then Dean would pull you back.

“You ok, kid?”

You nodded without a word, but that was enough for Dean.

“Ok. You wanna talk about it?”

This time you shook your head.

“Alright. C’mon, I’m gonna take you bed, alright? I think you should get some rest.”

And Dean would carry you to bed and Sam would get you some water. They’d stay in your room until you fell asleep, and they made an unspoken promise to watch you more carefully, and make sure you knew they were there if you needed them.

[tofics]

Out Of This World

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Pairing: Elijah Mikaelson x fem!Reader x Dean Winchester

Summary: You and the Mikaelsons are fighting a powerful witch that's trying to take over New Orleans. The only solution: banishment to another universe. However, the spell goes... wrong, and it's not the witch that ends up in another universe, but you. - At the same time, over a thousand miles away in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm goes off: a rift has opened up. The Winchesters and their angel partners in crime decide to investigate. What will they find when they get to New Orleans?

Word count: 4949 words

Warnings: cursing, violence, murder, mention of blood, allusions of panic attacks.

You skidded around the corner, barely missing a stack of cardboard boxes by an inch. You jumped around it, almost flying past the pile. Your blood was rushing in your ears, your heart almost jumping out of your chest, pumping the adrenaline through your body. Behind you, you heard the evil snicker of your persecutor, hard on your heels. Before you knew it, you reached a wall that cut off your path abruptly. A dead end. You were cornered.

Slowly, you turned around. There she was, a sneer cutting across her face. Despite the few feet between you, you could see the glint in her dark eyes. Again, the witch laughed triumphantly.

"Really? An evil laugh for an evil witch? How terribly cliché," you pressed out between two wheezes. There was a sharp stitch on your right side. Running had never been your thing anyway. You leaned down and rested your hands on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Once this is over, you really have to get into better shape, you told yourself.

The witch was still sneering at you, taking her sweet time to make a move on you. You could imagine that she was enjoying this thoroughly. What started as a challenge for power, trying to dethrone Niklaus and his siblings as rulers of the French Quarter, had resulted in a bloody, messy, magical war. For months, she had been threatening the Mikaelsons and everyone that stood by them. Where threats didn't work, death followed. Quite a few of the Mikaelson's closest followers and allies had lost their lives to the woman in front of you, and yet, you were sure to rank high on her win list: as Elijah's girlfriend, she'd probably enjoy your death a lot more than any of her previous kills. This particular death would strike them hard. Shake them to the core. Possibly - hopefully - destabilize them to a point where they'd fall apart from within and she could easily pluck them apart, one by one, until all of the siblings where gone.

"Not even a true Mikaelson, and yet you're just as snarky as the rest of them. What an obnoxious trait. So full of yourself, all of you. It's a disease. But, not to worry. I'll have that cured in no time," the witch quipped back at you, with so much sweetness in her voice that it made you gag.

"Who's full of herself now?" you muttered to yourself. The sorceress in front of you tsk-ed at you and got into casting stance. She reached into her cloak and brought a fistful of something to her mouth before blowing into her closed fist. Black dust spewed out from between her fingers and hung in the air in front of her like black glitter. You straightened at the sight of her palms turning towards you, the first few words of a spell that was sure to bring you death (and a painful one at that) slowly meandering out from between her lips like a snake, inching itself towards its victim relentlessly.

Okay, feel free to intervene any second now, you thought, trying not to glance around for the rescue that you knew was coming. This plan had been weeks in the making and you weren't about to foil it by giving anything away by accident. Soft dark clouds, looking like droplets of black ink in water were forming around you, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Your eyes began to water as the dark vapor drifted closer and started to engulf you. It stung in your nose, giving off a terrible sulfur stench. You tried your best not to inhale it, but soon you were completely enveloped in the black mist. The first breath burned a straight trail down into your lungs and set them on fire. You began to cough, grasping at your throat, slowly choking on the dark magic the witch was blanketing you with.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire, both from the growing lack of oxygen and the vapor that was eating itself into you. Your legs started to give out underneath you and you fell to your knees as you gasped for air.

Any... second... now... you thought, every word feeling heavy in your brain, as if every word weighed a ton. Just as your vision started to flicker and blur, you registered movement out of the corner of your eye. Something whisked past you from behind you at top speed. You heard an "oomph", followed by the sound of a body being smacked to the ground. Almost instantaneously, the black vapor that surrounded you fizzled away and fresh air finally streamed into your lungs.

You wheezed and sputtered, now on your hands and knees as snot dripped out of your mouth and mixed with your tears and spit on the ground. You were relieved to finally be breathing oxygen again, your lungs however still felt like they were on fire and your throat was about as dry as sand paper.

While you were catching your breath, a lot of action was happening in front of you. Klaus had tackled the witch to the ground and Elijah had shackled her, rendering her immobilized. He grabbed her by her collar and dragged her up against the left wall of the alley. Meanwhile, Freya came out from behind the boxes you had almost run into, hands up and feverishly mumbling, casting the incantation that was supposed to free you all of the witch's evil.

You felt a hand on your back first, and then you were lifted to your feet. Hayley was on your left and Jackson was to your right; both of them had an arm slipped through yours to hold you steady. They shot you concerned looks as you were still struggling for breath. You weakly smiled back as a gesture of I'm okay, don't worry about me.

Freya continued casting in front of you. Her voice grew louder and stronger with each word. Despite clearly being outnumbered, the evil sorceress laughed, seemingly amused by Freya's casting.

"Silence." Elijah's eyes were dark with fury as he ordered the witch to quiet, but her laugh just turned shrill before Klaus struck her across the face. Her laugh briefly sputtered as she sunk down, forced to her knees by the force of the blow. Blood dripped from her split lip and smeared across her teeth. It turned her sneer into a bloody grimace.

"You're making a grave mistake, Niklaus Mikaelson."

Now it was Niklaus' turn to laugh.

"I doubt it, Athea." He bend down on one knee in front of her. "On the contrary, actually. You know, I've got my fair share of enemies in this town. But even they have agreed that we must rid this beautiful city of this plague." Niklaus grabbed Athea by the jaw and locked it in place so she was eye to eye with him. "Now, since we cannot seem to kill you - a very annoying obstacle, I must say - we had to find a different way to get rid of you, didn't we."

Freya started to stumble, the weight of the casting taking its toll on her. Immediately, Elijah was by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. It steadied her in more than just one way. She was reaching the pinnacle of the incantation and needed her brothers' power to cast the final piece of it.

"Klaus? Less talking, more killing?!" Hayley called out from next to you. Klaus smiled in return and got back on his feet to join his brother at Freya's side.

"Right you are, little wolf. I so wish we could drag this out, but alas, time is of the essence. Farewell, Athea. You will not plague this world ever again." Klaus put his hand on Freya's open shoulder with a content smile on his face.

Freya started on the last few sentences of the spell. The air in the alley started to flicker like heat over pavement on a hot day. The hair on the back of your neck started to stand up as you felt a buzzing sensation all around you, as if someone had charged the air with electricity.

Then, Freya spoke the final words. For a moment, everything in your vision seemed to sharpen. It was eerily quiet.

Then, a massive beam of light erupted from all around you, turning the world into nothing but a bright white.

Over a thousand miles away from New Orleans, in a bunker in Lebanon, Kansas, an alarm went off. The buzzing sound vibrated through the entire place, accompanied by the red flashes of warning lights.

"Oh, what now," Dean Winchester growled. He had just begun to sort through his equipment that he'd need for the next few hours: a whole day of working on the cars in the garage of the bunker. Throw in some beers and some rock music, and you had Dean's favorite kind of day off. They'd just come back from a hunt the day before and he had been looking forward to fixing what needed fixing and mending what needed mending. He went into auto-mode when working on a car; it took his mind off things and allowed him to relax.

Dean put the wrench down that he was holding and wiped his hands on the cloth stuck in his waistline. He sighed. "Can't get one damn day of peace around here," he mumbled to himself and left the garage to head to the war room.

When he arrived, he found his brother Sam and both the angels Castiel and Jack already gathered around the map table. As he approached it, he could make out a blinking light at the south of the United States.

"What is it?" Dean peered at the speckle of light blinking feverishly on the map. Sam answered him. "It's... a rift." He looked around at the men gathered the table before he scratched his neck. "I guess the update does work. This is the first one to pop up since we tweaked the settings. At least the first one to be registered."

"Where is it?" Jack, the younger of the angels chimed in. He leaned forward to get a better look at the map. "From what I can tell... New Orleans." Sam replied after checking a few parameters. There were a few seconds of silence between the men before Dean cleared his throat. "Alright." He rubbed a hand over his face as if trying to wipe the exhaustion away that was written all over it, but to no avail. He looked exhausted and worn down. "Guess we have no choice but to check it out. Cas, get your things, we're leaving in thirty. Sam, you stay here with Jack and keep an eye on the table, 'case few more of these turn up. We'll call you if we need back up." Sam nodded and sat down to check through the table's settings while Jack slowly sunk into the chair next to him. There was a hint of disappointment in the young angel's eyes, but he didn't disagree with Dean. He knew that the older Winchester didn't fully trust him and that he had to keep his head down to earn that trust back.

Castiel and Dean left the war room in direction of their respective rooms to gather their belongings for the trip. Once they were out of earshot, Castiel leaned over to Dean. "What do you think this means?" Dean shook his head in response. "I've got no idea, but it can't be good."

The explosion of light faded just as quickly as it had started. Your eyes took a moment to adjust. Black spots danced in your field of vision and there was a penetrating ringing sound in your ears. You moaned and held your head as you stumbled around while your body tried to recover. Slowly, the ringing faded away to a barely noticeable hum and your vision cleared up too.

Once you could clearly see, you stood up straight. Your brain took a moment to register what your subconscious had picked up on within nano-seconds: something was wrong. Where just a moment ago Elijah, Freya and Klaus had stood, there was no one. Hayley and Jackson were gone from your side as well. Even the witch wasn't there. Athea's disappearance was somewhat comforting - after all, that had been the goal all along - but your stomach churned at the sight of the empty spots where your family and friends should have been.

Did the spell transport all of them? you wondered while temporarily frozen in place. It was like your body had to catch up to what your brain was processing. A slow sensation of panic crept up your spine and filled your limbs with an unpleasant tingling sensation. This hadn't been part of the plan. They weren't all supposed to disappear. Just Athea. "Okay, breathe," you told yourself and forced yourself to follow your own order. You took a few deep breaths and unclenched the fists that your hands had formed into, stretching out your fingers a couple of times before you quickly shook your shoulders loose. You can figure this out.

For a lack of a better option, you head towards the entrance of the alley. Perhaps they got thrown back by the power of the spell, you mused. After all, you'd been further away from Athea and the siblings. That didn't explain Hayley and Jackson's disappearance, but you figured you had to start somewhere.

Your legs were still a bit wobbly, presumably from both the near-death experience of choking on magical vapor as well as being light-bombed. You took it slow, taking your time with each step until you were sure that you wouldn't keel over. The extra time it cost you to reach the entry of the alleyway gave you plenty opportunity to inspect your surroundings for any clues about where your people might have disappeared to. You looked around for any signs of foul play while the never-ending feeling that something, something just wasn't right nagged at you. Something was off.

That's when it hit you.

Your stomach lurched as you reached the entrance of the alley where you'd carried out your big plan and you realized what exactly was wrong. There had been spray paint on the wall behind where Klaus had tackled Athea to the floor. Nothing groundbreaking, just a tag someone had quickly sprayed on the bricks. Now, however, the wall was bare. It was still the same old brick wall, covered in specks of dirt here and there, but there was no spray paint on it. The stack of boxes that you'd almost knocked over was also missing. It should have been to your left, but it wasn't. In fact, there wasn't a single card-box in sight. The alleyway wasn't exactly 'clean', but it wasn't nearly as packed with litter and trash as it had been just a few moments ago.

"No... no, no, no, no." Your whisper grew more panicked with each syllable. The faint humming sound in your ears picked back up as your blood began to rush through your body again. Panic rose in your chest and tightened its grip until you felt like you couldn't breathe, oxygen be damned.

The spell had worked. They had successfully sent someone to an alternate universe, just like they had planned. It just wasn't Athea who'd been transported from one universe to another.

It was you.

Elijah experienced the finale of their plan take place on various levels. He heard Freya cast the last piece of the incantation. He felt it, too, the energy that flowed through his and his brothers arm into Freya, their conduct for the spell. Once his sister spoke the final words he felt a massive tug on his lifeforce, taking a piece so big that if he wasn't immortal, he was sure he wouldn't have survived it. They had known that the spell they had found was ancient, dark magic. The scripture had made vague points about how costly it was, but they had been sure that with his and Klaus' energy combined, they'd be able to supply Freya with all the mana that was required for the incantation to work. Still, the final piece of the cut into him with a kind of force that he'd never experienced before. It forced him to his knees and weakened his senses all at once.

Elijah didn't know if his vision blurred or if it was the air around him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Klaus go down as well. Almost the same second the energy was sucked out of him, he felt it in the air around him, charged and ready to explode at the slightest spark. He moaned, unable to move. His hand was stuck to his sister's shoulder through her magic. It felt like it had fused to Freya and they were now linked together for eternity, hand to shoulder and shoulder to hand. The energy around him grew denser and pressed on him, it trickled over his skin and left sizzling trails.

Elijah's muscles spasmed under the electric force and he groaned. A buzzing sound had built in the back of his head and was now stretching toward his frontal lobe, where it pressed against the bone of his skull from the inside. He thought his head might explode until suddenly, everything became very still, like the quiet before a storm. It lasted for about a nano-second until the energy that had condensed around him blew up and drenched the world in light until all he could see was white.

When he came to, Elijah was on the ground. Pieces of pebble were piercing through his skin where it had become exposed from his suit shifting. The buzzing sound had given away to a ringing in his ears and the growing pressure on his skull was gone. Instead it was replaced by a booming hammering sensation that sent rhythmic thrills of pain through his head. He groaned and shifted his weight so he could sit up. His eyes were still sensitive to the light and he had to partially shield them so that he could see anything, despite the light in the alley having returned to normal.

He first saw Freya. She was down on her hands and knees, shaking and panting. Next to her was Niklaus, who seemed to be recovering from the same ordeal as Elijah; the spell had knocked him out flat as well.

Elijah's gaze drifted forward. He felt the area under his eyes trickle as anger shot through him. There, hunched against the wall, lay Athea. She seemed to have been knocked back into the bricks by the force of the spell as blood was running down from the back of her head. Elijah smelled it, but it wasn't the reason for his vamp face to come to the surface. It was his anger, mixed with frustration. Clearly, the spell had worked. They'd paid the price for sure. He couldn't be killed, but he felt like he was just about as close to dying as he could be as an immortal.

So why was she still here? What had gone wrong?

He rose to his feet, fueled by anger, frustration and worry. Athea may temporarily be blacked out, but she would soon come to and he knew what she'd do then. He staggered over to the witch and grabbed her by the hair to pull her close. He was tempted to rip into her throat right then and there, to watch her lifeforce spill out of her and form a puddle beneath her useless body. But he knew it was no use. The Mikaelsons had learned soon enough that Athea had set herself up good and made sure that she couldn't be killed. Not for long, anyway. She always came back.

Elijah snarled and pushed her head back, appalled by the woman in front of him. She'd caused him and his family so much pain over the last few months and he wanted to see her pay for it. This spell had been their last hope. He had no idea what he was going to do now. How he was going to protect his family, or Hayley. How he was going to protect you.

"What... what happened?" Freya coughed behind him and crawled over to them.

"It didn't work! That's what happened!" Klaus shouted, his voice full of fury. His brother had always had a temper, but this time, Elijah felt it was justified.

"It did work, Klaus. You felt it. The spell worked. I don't understand why she's still here." Freya crawled closer to inspect Athea's unconscious body.

"Clearly, it bloody didn't! This was all for nothing!" Klaus' rage was boiling and he took it out on the wall in front of him. His fist left a cracked imprint on the bricks.

"Niklaus," Elijah warned. Niklaus' anger may have been justified, but there was no time for antics. They had to come up with a plan and they had to do it now.

"Elijah?" Hayley's voice was tinged with fear. He began to turn around to console her. "It's alright, Hayley, we'll find a w-" He abruptly stopped when he spotted the gap between Hayley and Jackson. Both of them were still standing as if they'd just been holding you up a second ago, each of them with a raised arm that had been looped through yours. Elijah got up and walked over to them as if in trance.

"Where's Y/N?" he asked. Neither Hayley nor Jackson answered him. They had no answer. Elijah rolled his sleeves up as if getting ready for battle. It was a subconscious move, a displacement activity. He felt the gnawing feeling of panic set in in his stomach.

"Hayley. Where's Y/N?" he repeated in a calm, quiet demeanor. His auto-pilot was taking over. Hayley looked at him and he saw the shock and fear in her eyes. "She... Elijah, she disappeared..." she whispered as tears welled in her eyes.

Elijah stumbled back as if her words had struck him in the face.

"No... no..." Freya was coming up behind him and stared at the spot between the two wolfs where you had been standing just a few moments ago. "But... that's impossible! It's not possible! The spell was customized to Athea, not Y/N!"

"Freya." Although Elijah said her name like a statement, the unspoken question hung in the air. His sister turned to look at him. Fear and confusion were battling for dominance on her face. "Elijah, I don't know what happened. It's not possible. None of the words I said even remotely referred to Y/N. I have no idea how..." She trailed off. Then laughter came from behind them.

"You fools! I told you you were making a grave mistake! Ha ha ha!" Athea cackled as they turned around to her. Blood was still running from her mouth and her face appeared sunken in, with dark circles forming under her eyes. She continued to laugh while she occasionally sputtered and coughed up more blood.

Klaus was the first to react. He whooshed over to her side and grabbed her by the scalp. "What did you do, you useless bitch?" he snarled at her, but Athea just kept on laughing.

"Did you really think I was going to walk into your trap like that?" Athea sneered at Klaus as a red line trickled from her mouth. Again she coughed and spat out more blood.

"No... how...?" Freya's eyes widened in shock as she registered the meaning behind Athea's words. She'd known all along what they had been up to and had somehow... what? Manipulated the spell? "A spell of this character can't be manipulated! She doesn't have the power! I needed you two to even try to pull it off and even then we weren't sure it was gonna work. There's no way she could have altered it on her own." Freya was thinking out loud while she paced around.

"Then how did she do it? Did she have help?" Jackson's rusty voice cut in. He looked around as if he anticipated a line of enemies to come out of hiding at any second and attack them.

"I don't think so. A circle to back her up would have needed to be massive and they'd have needed to be physically attached to her, like Klaus and Elijah touched me. No, she..." Again, Freya trailed off and hesitated for a moment, then she quickly walked over to Athea.

Their enemy witch looked worse by the second. Her skin had taken on a greyish tone and the circles under her eyes had turned a dark purple. Her face, however, still had a stoic, defiant expression all over it. Freya knelt in front of her and grabbed the sorceress by the shoulder. "How did you do it? How did you hijack the spell? That's the only way you could've done it!" she shouted and shook the woman in front of her. The commotion caused Athea to cough again and blood splattered across her chest. She gave Freya a crimson red smile. "Wouldn't you like to know, Freya Mikaelson."

Klaus wrapped a hand around Athea's throat and squeezed slightly. "Tell us what you did, or I'll rip your head off right here and now." His fingers pressed into her throat with more force now, visibly obstructing the witch's airflow. She gasped for air but still... smiled. "Don't waste your strength on me, Niklaus. My time has come anyway." She gasped and coughed again before she continued. "I knew what you had planned and I knew I didn't have enough power to stop the spell. I knew my time in this world was coming to an end, but I wasn't going to go without a fight." She wheezed and the air in her lungs rattled and blubbered. "What did you do!" Klaus shook her by the throat as his voice echoed through the alleyway.

"I hijacked the spell," Athea replied hoarsely and gave another of her bloody smiles. There was a sense of triumph in voice. "But how?" Freya implored. She had no idea how a spell of this character could be manipulated, let alone hijacked. Unless... Athea cackled. "A good witch never reveal's all her secrets. Isn't that what the mortals say?" Klaus tightened his grip on Athea's throat and pushed her up the wall. Her entire weight was now on Klaus' grip around her neck; her feet dangled a few inches above the ground. "There's nothing good about you, you old crone," he growled. "Enough chitchat. Tell us what you did, or I'll rip you apart limb by limb, no matter how many times it takes until you sing." The witch didn't reply. She gasped for air, but her hands didn't claw at Klaus' hand like any other person might've done. Below them, Freya knelt down and inspected the ground. She soon found what she was looking for and rubbed a pinch of the black powder between her fingers.

"Klaus." The hybrid didn't relent his grip on Athea's throat, so Freya started again. "Klaus, it's no use. She's dying anyway." "Whatever do you mean?" Elijah approached the three of them from behind. Hayley and Jackson followed on his heel. "Just what I said. She's dying." His sister held out her hand to him and showed him the black stains. "When I was still with Daliah, she once told me about the myth about the fruit of the tree of life. Supposedly you could use its dried remnants to redirect any spell or curse thrown at you with ease, but no one had found a fruit in centuries. It was presumed to have gone extinct." Freya gestured over to Athea as she continued. "I have no idea how she got one... but this is what she must have used to redirect the spell to Y/N."

"Okay, great, that's one question answered. But why is she dying? I thought she couldn't die?" Hayley defensively crossed her arms in front of her chest. "She can't, not in a traditional way. But this spell is so old and so powerful, it overwrites any other spell. It becomes the default setting. Any power that she invested into enchantments to secure her life must have been redirected into our incantation, to uphold her end of the bargain, so to say. She traded Y/N for herself. Even if she only hijacked the spell and didn't try to counter it, it must have cost massive amounts of mana." The Mikaelson witch paused and briefly looked down. "So much, in fact, that all of her previous enchantments weren't enough. So she's paying with her life."

"Aren't you a clever little witch. It's a pity Dahlia lost control over you. We could have benefited from a clever one like y-" Athea was abruptly cut off when Elijah zoomed over to her and ripped off her head. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and rolled a couple of times before coming to a halt a few feet away from its previous body.

"Freya," Elijah said as he got his handkerchief out and cleaned a few bloody stains from his hand. "Tell me you know how to bring Y/N back, now that you've discovered the reason for this... mishap." The threat in his voice wasn't meant for his sister. He'd stared at the bodiless head on the ground as he had spoken.

"That's just it, brother. I have no idea."

A/N: It's here! I'm so excited! 🥳 This was so much fun to write and I can't wait to get started on the next chapter. This one got kind of long, but I felt that that was necessary to set the whole story up properly. The next chapter(s) might not be as long 😅 Depending on how much time I can find in the next days it should be up by next week.

Continue reading here: Chapter 2

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist ☺️

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @foreverrandomwritings

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Supernatural Masterlist

Winchester Sister!Reader

Car accident

You have a panic attack

You get into a fight with Dean and go to the bar alone to prove a point, but some guys end up harassing you and there’s only one person you can call for help.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/760064859187642368/imagine-you-get-into-a-fight-with-dean-and-go-to

Prank wars goes too far with Dean

You’re Sam and Dean’s sister and your trying to cure Sam of demon blood part.1

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759891359691898880/imagine-youre-sam-and-deans-sister-and-your

You’re Sam and Dean’s sister and your trying to cure Sam of demon blood part.2

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/760167474673172480/request-i-love-your-writing-sm

Hi! can you make one where sister Winchester has a fever and Sam and Dean give her a cold shower in the bunker and then take care of her?

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759921834042015744/request-hi-can-you-make-one-where-sister

Your Sam and Dean’s sister and you get drunk for the first time behind their back.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759810228844888064/imagine-your-sam-and-deans-sister-and-you-get

Request: Hi, so first I just wanted to say your writing is literally amazing I love every single one of your imagines and how they are such protective brothers in your 💕 I was wondering if there was anyway you could write an image where shes their teen sister and goes out on a date without the boys knowing although they are abit suspicious and she end up making out with this one boy and he starts to push it when she wants to stop and as it’s getting really bad Sam and dean save her. It’s okay if not thanks!!

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759756190530011136/request-hi-so-first-i-just-wanted-to-say-your

Request: Are you taking requests? Like, a story where the Winchester's sister has a fear of vampires? And they fight some and help her through a panic attack because of said fear?

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759652483365797888/request-are-you-taking-requests-like-a-story

You leave the bunker without telling your brothers and they are getting suspicious about what you’re doing

Ambushed by angry hunters, Sam and Dean are killed leaving their little sister to pick up the pieces.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759551721115729920/dark-side-of-the-moon-ambushed-by-angry-hunters

Request: Can you pls do Winchester sister x brothers (but she's closer with Dean) dead in the water and Winchester sister drowns and almost dies!

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759530582976905216/dead-in-the-water-supernatural-imagine-request

You’re traumatized that you witnessed Dean get torn apart by hellhounds, but then he gets out of Hell.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759457246520410112/imagine-youre-traumatized-that-you-witnessed

You’re Sam and Dean’s little sister and they find out your boyfriends been abusing you.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759352215587667969/imagine-youre-sam-and-deans-little-sister-and

You’re Sam and Dean’s little sister, but a witch puts a spell on you to forget your brothers and any ties to them- including hunting.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/759111854921482240/imagine-youre-sam-and-deans-little-sister-but

You are squeamish of stitches and wounds so every time your brothers have to patch you up, you panic and freak out.

You're with your brothers at the bar when you get roofied.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/758516574312382464/imagine-youre-with-your-brothers-at-the-bar-when

Sam and Dean try to protect their little sisters innocence as much as possible. Even when she’s out hunting and killing monsters.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/758492024407212032/protecting-innocence-summary-sam-and-dean-try-to

Dean went to hell and Sam left his little sister (16/17 yo) to fend for herself. Dean gets back and he is pissed with Sam and they have to find her.

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/758433988033511424/my-sisters-keeper-dean-went-to-hell-and-sam-left

Request: Reader along with brothers are captured by a demon and they sexually assault you

Request: oh em geez hill i love your work so freakin much! i was wondering if you could do a winchester bros x little sister reader fic where they go to fight a vamp nest (nothing big like 3-4 vamps) and they get separated and reader is like 1 on 1 with a vamp and its like a close call (whatever that means to you 99) but reader gets the upper hand and chops their head off and then the brothers find her and shes just kinda mute after that like she has trouble talking abt what happened to her?

https://www.tumblr.com/winchestersisterimaginessss/760087192727175168/request-oh-em-geez-hill-i-love-your-work-so

Part 1. Charlie’s your best friend, but she gets killed by the Stynes.

Part 2. The aftermath of your best friend, Charlie’s death and the effects it has.

[dianawinchester03]

Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time of Dying

Series Masterlist

(Authors Note: TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️. Reader has a minor panic attack, before anyone gets offended. Though it's not anybody's business I will put it out there that I personally have suffered with trauma induced panic attacks. So I am not writing out of my ass, this is all based off of MY experience and not anyone else's. If it's not the same for you, you can skip over it. Thank you🫶)

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Third Person POV

The possessed truck driver that crashed into the Impala and Harley purposely, steps out of his truck, black eyed and unharmed. He strolls slowly to the crash site in-front of him. Y/N sprawled out on the road, unconscious. Just meters away from the drivers side door of the Impala. All three Winchester men also unconscious in the demolished car.

Sam begins to come to a bit when he hears the footsteps. He tightens his grip on the Colt as the demon approaches. The demon then rips the drivers side door off with all his might, "Get.Back..." Sam warns the demon in a deadly tone, glaring at his through his bloodied eyes. "...or I'll kill you. I swear to God" He aims the gun at the demon.

The demon smirks, "You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else" The demon calls him out of his bluff. Sam breathes heavily, cocking the gun at the demon. A 'no bullshit' look on his face. "You wanna bet?" Sam seethes through his teeth, his mouth coated in his own blood.

The demon just smiles widely and then starts screaming, barfing up a black smoke, exactly the way John did when Yellow Eyes possessed him. The truck driver falls to his knees, no longer possessed. Sam sighs heavily, gripping his sprained arm as the driver comes too. A horrified looks on his face at the sight infront of him.

"Oh my God. Did I do this?" The driver gasps terrified. "Dad?" Sam groans, calling out for his unconscious father. "Dean?!" Sam calls out for his unconscious older brother. Sam's eyes flicker outside to Y/N sprawled on the ground, her body limp. "Y/N/N!?" Sam screams painfully.

Hours later, paramedics finally showed up. The sun is now shining as the helicopter above scans the area. Dean is being strapped to a gurney along with Sam and John. They rush him into the ambulance as Y/N begins to come to. Her eyes flutter open, her face twice as bruised as it was.

Y/N's POV

"Y/n/n..." My fathers weak voice croaks, he weakly pulls the machete from his gut, the blood escaping from his wounds through and through.

"I love you, baby" He says weakly. "I love you too, daddy" I sob, staring into my fathers eyes. "It's okay....you can go now" I cry, holding my father in my arms as he takes his last breath. The light that was once in his eyes, now going out.

"No...no....NOOOOOOO!!!!" I scream painfully.

I'm woken up to the sound of shouting. "Significant passengers soace intrusion. Unresponsive. BP. 180, over 50. Heart rate—". My eyes shoot open to the sight of the sun blinding me, a helicopter over head. "NOOOOO!!!" I scream loudly, trying to toss and fight off the paramedics holding me down on the gurney. "Miss! Ma'am! Please! We're trying to help you!" The female paramedic holds me down, putting a clear oxygen mask over my nose.

"D-d-dean...Sammy..." I croak weakly. "What's your name sweetie?" The male paramedic asks me. "Wheres...my....Dean??" I breath heavily. Groaning from the sticking pain in my left side, I'm pretty sure my ribs are broken. I look around, my eyes searching for the boys. "Sammy....where's...Sammy?" I sob. "Ma'am, we're doing everything we can. But we need to focus on you right now." The male paramedic says gently.

"Tell me if they're okay!! Tell me my fellas are okay!!" I plead with them. "You have to stay still!" The female paramedic tries to calm me down. "Are they even alive?!" I yell as I sob. "You dislocated your knee in the crash. We're gonna need to pop it back in. So take a deep breath okay sweetie?" The female paramedic guides me gently as the man holds my knee in place.

"Yes ma'am" I nod tearfully. She gives the man a nod. "On three. One...two..." She didn't make it to three but that's when a sickening snap in my knee sounded as he popped it back into place. "AHHHHH!!" I screamed painfully at the bone being placed back into my knee socket. I clutched my knee in pain sobbing.

Deans POV

I jump awake in a hospital bed. A white T-Shirt on with some hospital pants. Surrounded by goddamned EKG machines and all that technical nerd stuff Sammy and y/n/n know all about. My eyes scan the empty room, groaning slightly, I throw my legs off the bed and I begin to make my way to the door.

"Sam? Y/N?" I call out for them but the hallway is empty. "Dad? Anybody?!" My voice fills the empty corridor. I make my way to the large staircase leading downstairs to the hospital. "Shiloh County, Nurses' Station. How can I transfer your call?" A woman by the receptionist desk answers a phone.

"Excuse me" I call out for her, groaning as I walk down the stairs and towards the reception desk. "Hi. I uh- I think I was in a car accident. With my dad, my brother and my gir-...my friend. On her bike. I just need to find them." I clear my throat, explaining to the receptionist. But she doesn't take me on.

"Hello?" I call out to her, confused as to why she didn't answer me. Is she not hearing me? I snap my fingers in-front of her face and wave my hands but it's like I'm invisible. She then walks away. I rush down the halls looking for anyone, that's when I stumbled on a room. My room. What I saw shocked me to my core.

It was Y/N sat next to my hospital bed, her face buried in her hands sobbing. In the bed was me, hooked up to a life support machine, tubes sticking out of my mouth. I stepped closer, horrified at the state I was in. The state Y/N was in. "Y/N? Princess? Are you okay? Please tell me you can hear me with your ESP thing" I knelt next to her, pleading for her to hear something.

She raised her head a bit, almost as if she heard something. Her swollen red eyes directed at me. Her face glassed over with concern and confusion. She only had a sports bra on with a hospital pants, a cast around her right knee, a stitched up gash on her forehead similar to mine and a white wrapping around her midsection.

Blood was seeping through the gauze a little on her left side ribs. Her hair was in a mess and she looked as though she hadn't slept all night. But somehow, she still managed to look effortlessly beautiful. My heart stopped at the sight, shock taking over my body. I wasn't sure if she saw me but I'm praying she does.

Third Person POV

The second Dean stepped into that room, Y/N felt the hairs at the back of her neck stand up. She wasn't sure what it was, all she had on her mind was the man she loved, was next to her strapped to life support. Fighting for his life. She raised her head a bit when she felt his presence but she didn't pay mind to it.

Sam emerges through the room door, his heart sinked when he saw his brother on that hospital bed. "Sammy" Dean says relieved. "You and y/n/n  look good...considering..." Dean trails off realizing Sam can't hear him either. "Please tell me you guys can hear me" Dean pleads. "Oh, no" Sam gasps, tears forming in his eyes at his brothers state.

"How's dad? Is he okay?" Dean asks worried. His heart beats out of his chest. He turns to Y/N, "Come on, sweetheart. You're the psychic. Give me some ghost whispering or something" Dean pleads with her. Turning to his brother. "Come on dude, talk to me" He pleads with his brother.

Something in the back of Y/N's mind tells her to ask Sam something, "How's John?" She asks the younger Winchester in a worried tone. He turns to her, tears in his eyes. "He's asleep. Resting" Sam informs her. "Did the doctor say anything about Dean?" Sam asks her tearfully. She shakes her head, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"I haven't seen his doctor yet. I'm supposed to be in my room. I found him here" Y/N admits to Sam who sighs heavily. A doctor enters the room, "Your father's awake" The doctor tells them. They all turn to him, "You can go see him, if you like" He adds. "Oh thank god" Dean and Y/N mutter relieved. But of course, she can't hear him.

"Doc, what about my bo-...my friend. What about my friend?" Y/N asks worried, clearing her throat she bites on her nails nervously out of habit. Dean notices this, "Quit biting your nails" He mutters rolling his eyes, her eyes flicking in his direction. But she doesn't hear him, but she removes her finger from her mouth hesitantly. Dean is taken back when she looks in his direction. Though she can't see him, he's sure she can feel his presence.

That's good enough for him. At least he's got his foot in the door. Hope rises in his chest. Sam looks at the doctor with a pained expression, hoping for a good answer. "Well, he sustained serious injury. Blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema" The doctor explains.

"Well, what can we do?" Sam asks him. "Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up" The doctor sighs. "If....he wakes up" He adds as they look down at Dean nodding. Their gazes snap back to him, grief stricken. "If?" Y/N gasps, pushing herself up from the chair. "What are you talking about, doc. I'm waking up!" Dean insists but they can't hear him.

"I have to be honest, most people with his degree of injury wouldn't have survives this long. He's fighting very hard" The doctor assured them honestly. "But you kids need to have realistic expectations" The doctor puts it bluntly. "Come on, guys. Go find some Hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me! I'll be fine" Dean presses angrily but they can't hear him. Sam and Y/N are distraught, they felt as if their whole world was ending.

First her dad, and now Dean. Y/N's chest begin to heave furiously and he palms began to clam up. The doctor walks out as Dean calls out for them. Y/N felt her body getting weaker, her knee felt as though it was engulfed in flames. The thought of Dean not making it, she couldn't bare it. Tears brimmed at her eyes. She began to wobble a bit and Dean noticed. Rushing to help her but his hand went right through her.

"Sam? Y/N! Come on!" Dean pleads. Y/N grips onto Sam to stop herself from falling, he snaps out of his daze. "Crap, sorry. Hey I got you" I tells her gently, holding her up by her waist. Her breathing quickens further and Sam noticed this, Dean knew exactly what this meant. She was having a panic attack. "Hold her, Sam! Tell her to take deep breaths!" Dean urges his brother but Sam can't hear him.

"Y/N, babe....hey hey hey. It's okay, it'll be okay. I'm here" Dean coos gently, trying talk to her. "Sam..." Y/N breathes out, clutching onto Sam's shoulder, her sweaty palms grip tightening around his shoulder blade. Concern and panic etched on his face. Not knowing what to do. "Y/n/n, hey look at me" Her gaze snaps to Sam's eyes when he says this, her chest heaving with anxious.

"Take deep breaths. One....two...three..." She nods shakily, listening to the sound of her best friends voice. Wishing it was Dean's voice. Meanwhile, he's looking on, terrified her heart might give out. He's helpless, he can't hold her, kiss her on her forehead and tell her it's gonna be alright. As y/n takes the deep breaths, she calms down subsequently.

"Thanks Sammy" She says gratefully, breathing heavily. "You're welcome, y/n/n" He gives her a small tight genuine smile. He takes her hand and wraps it around her shoulder, helping her walk out of the room to go and check on John.

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"Alright. Here. Give them my insurance" John hands Sam his wallet with his insurance card. "You covered, sweetheart?" John asks Y/N. "Yes sir" She responds, holding up her fake insurance card. Sam looks down at the name and smiles a bit, "Elroy McGillicuddy?" Sam snickers, pulling a chair for Y/N and then one for him to sit next to John's bed.

John smirks a bit, "And his two loving sons" He smiles. "I'm Mildred Tulworts. Loving daughter of Harold Tulworts" Y/N shows Sam her fake insurance card, who chuckles a bit as John shakes his head smiling. "Your father always knew how to come up with the weirdest aliases" John chuckles. Y/N's smile drops a bit, tears in her eyes.

"Every Alias he had was a joke" Y/N chuckles lightly. "So...What else did the doctor say about Dean?" John asks concerned. "Nothing" They respond in unison, with a shrug. "Look, if the doctors won't do anything, then we'll have to. Thats all" Y/N says calmly. "What could we possibly do?" Sam asks her cocking his eyebrow. "I don't know, we'll go find some...hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him and..." Y/N says sighing, unconsciously repeating Deans words earlier.

"We'll look for someone" John assured them. "Yeah" They both nod sighing. "But, kids....I don't know if we'll find anyone" John says honestly. "Why not?" Sam asks confused. "We found that faith healer before for y/n" He adds. "Alright, that was one in a million" John says. "So what, then we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" Sam scoffs irritated.

Y/N looks between the father and son nervously. "No, I said we'd look. Alright? I'll check under every stone" John says firmly. Sam and Y/N sigh nodding. "Where's the Colt?" John asks. Y/N's eye twitches angrily at this as Sam looks at his father in disbelief. "Your son is dying and you're worried about about the Colt?" She spits angrily, narrowing her eyes at John.

Sam scoffs in disgust that his father is so nonchalant about Dean fighting for his life but the only thing he truly sounded concerned about is the Colt. "We are hunting this demon and maybe it's hunting us too. That gun may be our only card" John says defensively. They shake their heads, "It's in the trunk. They dragged the car and y/n's bike off I-83." Sam answers quietly.

"Alright, you gotta clean out that trunk and whatever is is y/n's bike before some junk man sees what's inside" John instructs them. "I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala and Harley with his truck back to his place" Y/N informs him. "Alright. Sam, you go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt and bring it back to me. And watch out for hospital security" He instructs Sam.

"Y/N, you stay here. You could barely walk so take it easy and rest" He says gently to her. "I think we got it covered" Sam says in a cold tone. Sam helps Y/N up, they both begin to walk out the room, "Hey" John calls out for them. They stop in their tracks and turn to John. "Here. I made a list of things I need. Have Bobby pick them up for me" John hands Sam a piece of paper.

Y/N peers to take a look at this list, "Acacia? Oil or Abramelin? What's this stuff for?" She questions curiously. "Protection" John simply answers. They sigh and begin to walk out again but Sam stops. "Hey, Dad. You know the demon? He said he had plans for me and y/n. And for children like us. You have any idea what he meant?" Sam asks him, hoping for an answer.

John shakes his head, "No, I don't" He responds but y/n narrows her eyes suspiciously at him. Something tells her he knows more than he's letting on. "Okay, thanks" She simple says, both her and Sam make their way out of the room. Y/N limping as Sam helps her. Without their knowledge, Dean was at the corner of the room listening the whole time.

His arms crossed over his chest as he stares at his father with a suspicious look, "Well, you sure know something" Dean mutters knowingly. The guilty expression on his fathers face was easily read by him, he knew the man like the back of his palm. John was hiding something, and Dean was gonna have to be the one to figure it out.

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Now at I-83, Sam strolls over to Bobby, his mouth agape when he takes a look at the Impala and Harley. "Oh man" He gasps. "Dean and Y/N are gonna be pissed" He states as Bobby shakes his head at the completely demolished Impala and Harley. "Y/N might blow a gasket, that was the only thing she had left from her dad" Sam sighs sadly.

"Look, Sam, it's- These just ain't worth a tow" Bobby says honestly, walking over to the trunk. He opens it up as Sam goes over to Y/N's bike, stopping down. He pulls off the seat top to empty out the compartment under the seat. "I say we empty the trunk and sell the rest for scrap. Y/N could figure out what to do with her bike when she gets back" Bobby suggests.

Sam shakes his head, going over to the flattened backseat to take out his crushed computer. "No. Dean would kill me if we did that. And y/n would bleach my hair in my sleep" Sam scoffs. "When they get better, they're gonna wanna fix it" He adds, placing the computer on the roof.

"There's nothing to fix. Frames a pretzel. The engines ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging" Bobby points out to the Impala. Then turning to the Harley, "The engine is basically a pancake. The only thing here that's worth keeping is the helmet" Bobby points out to the Harley. "Listen to me, Bobby. If there's only one working part, thats enough. We're not just gonna give up on..." Sam trails off, taking a deep breath.

Bobby gives him a sympathetic look before nodding, "Okay. You got it" He responds. Sam sighs and takes the list John gave him out, "Here. Uh...dad asked if you could get this stuff for him" He hands Bobby the list over the top of the Impala. "What John want with this?" Bobby asks, cocking an eyebrow after he scans the list.

"Protection from the demon" Sam shrugs. Bobby has a troubled look on his face and Sam notices this, "What?" He asks. "Oh, nothing. It's just-" Bobby tries to brush it off but Sam cuts him off, "Bobby. What's going on?" Sam asks him firmly. The guilt on Bobby's face was obvious.

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Meanwhile, Y/N is sat by Deans bedside, her hand resting gently on his. She strokes the back of his palm with her thumb, her lip quivering. She takes a deep breath, trying not to cry anymore. Dean is in the corner of the room, his heart yearning just to feel her touch. Guilt seeping through, all he could do was watch from a distance. A pained expression on his face.

She sighs before starting, "This is gonna sound crazy....but then again. According to you, I am" She weakly chuckles, a small smile appears on Deans face at her comment. "You sure are" He mutters chuckling. "I don't know if you can hear me, but I think you can. I've been feeling that 'ESP thing' you're always on about. And I want to believe you're here, listening" She says tearfully as Dean listens on.

"Me and Sam. We miss you. And we need you. You're the glue to our families, we'd be nowhere without you....you're one of the strongest people I know, Dean. And I know you can get past this. Screw what the docs are saying, they don't know the things we do" She sobs, bringing his hand to her lips. "They don't know you like I do" She whispers against his knuckles.

Deans heart breaks at her words. "Y/N...." He sighs sadly as she kisses his knuckles. She sniffles slightly, "I miss you, goddamnit. I miss your idiotic jokes. Your horrible yet funny movie references. I miss your cheeky smile when you see pie. I miss your overly sexual corny jokes" She chuckles lightly, Dean shaking his head chuckling along with her. A blush rising to both their faces. "I miss flirting with you back and forth and you getting all flustered." She blushes.

His eyes widen, "I was hoping you didn't notice that" Dean mutters embarrassed, walking over to her. He takes a seat on the bed in front of her. "I'm gonna do something. And you're probably gonna make fun of me. So screw you in advance" She mutters jokingly, bringing her other hand to clasp around his palm in a praying gesture. She closes her eyes slowly, taking a deep breath.

"Son of a bitch...you're gotta be kidding me" Deans agape when he realizes what she's gonna do. "Hey, God...whoever is listening. I don't do this as much as I should. I don't even know how the fuck it start this-oh shit I just cursed. GOSH, sorry. Ugh, I'm terrible at this" She curses herself for swearing while praying. Deans hand is over his mouth trying not to burst into hysterics as she struggles to pray.

"I know I'm doing this in a somewhat selfish situation. But I'm not doing this for me. I'm doing this for Dean. Because he of all people deserve to live. Now he's not prefect, I mean-" She scoffs a bit, "Dean is definitely not perfect" Y/N chuckles shaking her head as Dean rolls his eyes. "But he's got a bigger heart than he likes to admit. He's done nothing but protect me and Sam our whole lives. But no one really protected him, he doesn't deserve this. So I'm begging, I'd get down on my knees if I could" She pleads, tears threatening to fall again.

Dean is speechless that Y/N would go to the extent to pray for him. Despite everything that they've seen in their lives, she was never much of a believer and neither was he. "But he's family. And if you really are an all knowing type of God. You'll know, he deserves to walk out of here without a scratch. Please. We need him.....I need him" Y/N prays tearfully. "Amen" She finishes, opening her eyes that are red and burning. Still swollen from that demon attack.

Her gaze rests on Dean laying in the bed. While she was praying, Dean was sobbing the entire time, unbeknownst to her. "You can make fun of me for that all you want, when you get better" She whispers to Dean on the bed, smiling, she brings her hand slowly to the crown on his head. Caressing his short dark blonde hair gently.

Tears flowing down his face, he kneels in-front of her chair.

Then resting his hand gently on her cheek, "Princess..." Dean whispers. Y/N jumps slightly, a cold yet soothing warmth filling her body. She could've sworn she heard him call out to her. Dean is surprised when she felt him touch her this time. Her gaze falls to the exact spot Dean is knelt down at. Her eyes wide and his eyes wide. She still can't see him but she could feel the drift of a touch. "Charming?" She whispers shocked.

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John is sat at the foot of Deans hospital bed, his eyes filled with sorrow as he looks at his elder son, fighting for his life, hooked up to a bunch of machines. Y/N was asleep on the couch across from the bed, her right sprained knee propped on the couch, with her left leg dangling off the edge. A crutch she stole from the medical closet was leaned up against the wall.

Deans spirit enters the room, "Come on, Dad. You gotta help me" Dean pleads but John can't hear him. "I gotta get better, I gotta get back in there" He stresses, his eyes trained on John's face filled with despair. "I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you gonna do anything?" Dean painfully scoffs.

"Aren't you even gonna say anything?!" He snaps angrily, John's eyes still resting on his son on the bed. Dean shakes his head angrily, "I've done everything you and f/n have every asked me. Everything! I've given everything I've ever had! And you're just gonna sit there and you're gonna watch me die?!" Dean yells painfully. "What the hell kind of father are you?!" He snaps.

A rumbling sound outside catches Deans attention, cutting him monologue short. "What is that?" He mutters, turning around. He steps out of the room, only for something that looked like a spirit to come flying past him. He jumps back, turning to John and a sleeping Y/N on the couch. "I take it you two didn't see that" He mutters, chasing after the spirit.

He speed walks down the hall, looking for the spirit he just say. He felt a gust of air behind him along with a whooshing sound. Turning around to see the ghostly transport figure turn the corner. He rushes after it, stumbling upon a room to see a woman gasping and choking on the ground. "Help. Help. Help!" She pleads, convulsing.

"Hey! I need some help in here!" Dean calls for help but no one could hear him. "I..can't...breathe..." The woman chokes for air. Dean rushes over to her, stooping next to her. He tries to give her CPR but his hand goes right through her. Her gasping stops suddenly, Deans eyes widen in horror at this.

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Later, Sam came back from Bobby's and told y/n what the list was actually about. Both pissed beyond shit. Y/N limps into John's room on the crutch, Sam infront of her, his bag draped over his shoulder with the items. A stoic expression on both their faces. Dean enters the room frantically behind them. "Sammy, y/n/n. Tell me you two can freaking hear me. There's something in the hospital! Now you gotta bring me back and we all gotta hunt this thing" Dean tries to warn them but they can't hear him.

Sam just rests his bag down on the chair, his back turnt to John, his eyes trained outside the window. "Sam! Y/N!" Dean calls out for them. Since entering the room. Sam and Y/N haven't said a word. Y/N leans on the crutches at the foot of John's bed, glaring at him. "You two are quiet" John states. Y/N's eye twitches angrily, her jaw clenched.

As Sam turns to his father, a aggravated look on his face. He tosses the bag onto of the bed by Johns foot. "You think we wouldn't find out?" He snaps. "What are you talking about?" John feigns confusion. "Cut the crap, John." Y/N snaps back. "That stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon. You use it to summon one" She states, fuming with rage. John's face drops, caught redhanded.

"You're planning on bringing the demon here. Having some stupid, macho showdown!" Sam yells angrily. "I have a plan, kids" John says calmly. "That's exactly our point. Dean is dying and you have a plan!" Y/N yells as Dean walks over to the bed next to her, a scared look on his face as the three argue.

"You know what? You care about killing this demon, more than do you your own son!" Sam shouts at the top of his lungs, pointing to the door and back to John. "Come on guys. Don't do this!" Dean pleads but they can't hear him. "Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean!" John shouts back defensively. "How?!" Sam and Y/N exclaim in unison. "How is revenge gonna help him?! You're not thinking about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession!" Sam adds angrily.

Dean places his hand on his head stressed, "Please guys, don't do this!" Dean pleads, anger building in him. "This demon killed your mother and it killed your mother too, y/n! It killed your girlfriend, Sam! You begged me to be apart of this hunt!" John barks at the two younger hunters, their faces contorting painfully.

He then turns to Sam. "Now if you killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would've happened!" John further adds. Sam grimaces, stepping closer to John. "It was possessing you, Dad. I would've killed you too!" Sam growls. "Yeah and your brother would be awake!" John retorts. Their faces dropped at this. "Go to hell" Sam grits his teeth at John.

Y/N's eyes widen at Sam's words. "Okay, that's enough!". "Shut up all of you!!" Y/N and Dean yell at the same time. She puts her free hand infront of Sam, trying to push him out of the room. "Let's go Sam!" She tries to get him out. "You know, I should've never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" John seethes through his teeth as Y/N tries to pull Sam out of the room.

"I said, SHUT UP!!!" Dean bellows, absolutely fed up of the bickering. He slaps John's glass of water off the table, the glass smashes into pieces on the ground. The three conscious hunters head snap in the direction of the glass breaking. Their argument cutting short. They all look at each other shocked and confused, mirroring Deans expression.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that motherfucker" Dean mutters proudly but still shocked. "I knew it" Y/N gasps, realization hitting her like that truck. "Sam, take a walk" Y/N instructs him calmly. Sam's gaze snaps to her, "But, I-" He goes to further argue but she cuts him off. "Take a walk, Samuel!" She snaps firmly, pointing to the door, the three Winchester men eyes widen at her tone, now realizing she's serious.

He nods obediently before giving his father one last glare before walking out the door to head to Deans room. When Sam finally leaves, y/n turns to John. Pure fury in her eyes. "Listen, y/n. I don't wanna hear i-" John goes to say but she cuts him off with a huff. "No. You're gonna listen to me, John Winchester. Because I'm not your kid who's gonna take your crap. And I'm certainly not, Dean" She clenches her jaw angrily.

Dean is still at the corner of the room, his mouth agape at the fact that Y/N is standing up to his father for him. "Excuse me?" John scoffs baffled by her tone. "You heard me." She snaps back. "Dean has done NOTHING but WORSHIP the ground you and dad walked on from day one! And this is how you repay him?! You just toss him away like trash?!" Y/N growls enraged. John's chests heaves with anger, clenching his jaw as the guilt rises in him.

"No you don't get to tell me t-!" John goes to argue but she cuts him off. "How bout for once, instead of being a drill sergeant, you be a father?!" She exclaims exasperatedly. His mouth snaps shut again, speechless. John's eyes doesn't meet hers, his head bowed in shame. "I mean, Dean does everything you ask him to. If you ask him to jump off a bridge and it means saving the world. He would swan dive straight off without hesitation, just to make you happy!" She further reiterates.

"Your.Son.Is.Dying." Y/N grits her teeth, tears threatening to fall out her eyes again. "And he needs you. Right now, it's not Sam he wants. And it sure as hell ain't me. It's you, John" She sighs. John's tear filled eyes finally meets her, "Just please, go hold his hand and tell him it'll be okay. You never know what could happen" She pleads with him. John nods tearfully, grief stricken.

Dean felt a sense of admiration, his heart swelling as he stares at the scene unfolding in-front of him. Y/N cared about him, that's all he could ever ask for. "You're right" He admits, sniffling back tears. She's shocked from this and so is Dean. "You're damn right I am" She says firmly. At that second, Dean begins to feel a pain in his mid section. He falls to the ground knee first, groaning in pain. The image of his spirit fading. Y/N and John notice some nurses and doctors rushing down the halls.

"What-" Dean mutters, gasping in pain. "Something's going on out there. Go check it out" John tells her urgently. She nods before making her way out of the room. She reaches to Deans room to see Sam standing in-front of it, tears in his eyes. Limping towards Sam on her crutches, she asks, "Sammy, what's-" She goes to ask, her statement cutting short when she sees some nurses and doctors around Deans body.

He was coding and the doctors were shocking him to get his heartbeat back. "No" Y/N gasps tearfully. Clutching onto Sam, both their hearts breaking at the sight. "Clear!" A nurse exclaims, shocking Dean with the paddles. "Still no pulse" Another nurse says. "Come on, Dean. Come on!" Sam prays, as he holds y/n up. Both crying as y/n's head lays on his shoulder. "Okay, let's go again. 360" The doctor instructs.

"Charging" the nurse obliges. "All clear?" The doctor asks, resting the paddles to Deans chests. "Clear!" The nurse responds, the doctor then shocking Dean. Sam and Y/N look on in tears as the doctors shock Dean but he's not coming to. Deans spirit emerges from behind them. His eyes widening when he sees the spirit from earlier hovering above his body. "Get the hell away from me!" He bellows angrily.

"Stay back!" He yells, running into the room past Sam and Y/N. The spirit still hovers over Dean, "I SAID GET BACK!!!" Dean screams, grabbing onto the spirit, only to be tossed into the wall. The spirit turns to look at him before disapparating out of the room. Dean rushes after it and then the nurse says, "We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm" to the doctor. Sam and Y/N let out a harsh breath of relief.

Meanwhile, Dean is canvassing the halls. Looking desperately for the spirit. He's unsuccessful so he goes back to his room to see Sam and Y/N still there. Tears still in their eyes as they stare at the machine monitoring Deans heartbeat. "Don't worry Sammy and y/n/n. I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it gets me" Dean assures them but they can't hear him.

However y/n feels a familiar chill to her right side, the side where Deans standing. She looks over quickly, only to see there's no one there. "It's some kind of spirit but I could grab it. And if I could grab it, I can kill it" He adds. Sam notices y/n look over to her right side. Feeling almost the exact same chill but not as strong.

"Did you feel that too??" Sam asks her quietly. She nods shakily, "Yeah..." She whispers. Dean smiles a bit, hopeful that they'll find a way to communicate with him.

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Dean wanders down the halls, the sound of a woman's voice drawing him out of his sullen mood. "Can't you see me?!" The woman yells frustrated. "Why won't you look at me?!" The woman further yells. Dean huffs in irritation, "Now what?" He grumbles, following after the sound of her voice.

He ends up at the stairs near the receptionist he was earlier, "Somebody talk to me! Say something, please!" A young beautiful woman, dressed similar to Dean tries to get the attention of people in the hospital but she's unsuccessful. "Can you see me?!" Dean asks her. She turns around shocked. "Yeah" She breathes out relieved.

Hope rises in Deans chest, "Hi, just uh...calm down" He says to her gently. "What's your name?" He asks. "Tessa" She responds a bit shakily. "Okay, good. Tessa. I'm Dean" He introduces himself. "What's happening to me?" Tessa asks fearfully. Dean felt pity towards the girl, she wasn't aware of anything going on. "Am I- Am I dead?" She stutters, her voice breaking. "That sort of depends" Dean responds honestly.

They're now infront of Tessa's room. Her physical body also on life support like Dean. A woman next to her bed who Tessa makes out to be her mother. "I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy" She says confused. "I hate to bear bad news but....I think there were some complications" Dean says awkwardly. "It's just a dream. That's all. This is just...a very weird...unbelievably vivid dream" Tessa tries to convince herself firmly.

Dean gives the girl a sympathetic look, "Tessa. It's not a dream" He says honestly. Her face drops, "Then what else could it be?" She asks him. Dean hesitated to answer, trying to find the right words, "You ever heard of an out-of-body experience?" He asks her but she shakes her head. "What are you, some New Age-y guy?" Tessa huffs.

Dean scoffs, "You see me messing with crystals or listening to Yanni?" He retorts. She looks down shaking her head, "It's actually a very old idea. It's got a lot of names. Bilocation, crisis apparition, fetches. I think it's happening to us" He explain to her calmly. "And if it is....it means that we're spirits of people close to death" He adds. Tessas eyes widen in fear, turning back to look at her body and then back to Dean.

"So we're gonna die?" She asks, "No. not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better. You can snap right back in there and wake up" Dean responds firmly. She looks at him hesitantly.

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"What do you mean you guys 'felt something'?" John asks Sam and y/n who are explaining what they felt earlier. "I mean..." Y/N sighs, looking between the two of them nervously. "Go on sweetheart" John urges her. She sighs before starting, "I mean, when I was in Deans room earlier. I was praying" She begins. "You prayed?" Sam cocks his eyebrow, surprised at this.

"Yes. Shut up" She huffs, rolling her eyes as Sam puts him hands up in surrender. "As I was saying" She says exasperated. "I was praying. And when I finished, I felt this kind of chill on my cheek and it spread to the rest of my body. I was sitting at his bedside and I could've sworn I heard someone say 'Princess' " She adds, giving them a knowing look. Their eyes widen.

"The only person on this earth that calls me that is Dean. And the same thing happened after the doctors got his pulse back. Sam said he felt it too" Y/N tries to further explain. "Exactly, it felt like...Dean. Like he was there but just out of eyeshot" Sam defends her point. "I don't know if our psychic thing or what. But do you think it's even possible? You think his spirit could be around?" Y/N asks John.

John smiles slightly, "Anything's possible" He says nodding. "Well, there's one way to find out" Sam says firmly. "What's that?" Y/N asks confused. "You'll see, let's go" He says vaguely, helping her out of the room. "I've got it. I'm not a child" She grumbles, slapping his arm out of the way as she limps using her stolen crutch. Y/N hates the feeling of being helpless, she appreciates Sam's helpfulness but it still sucks.

"Okay Thumbelina, if you fall I'm not picking you up" He retorts, putting his hands up in surrender. She narrows his eyes at him, huffing because of the smug look on his face. "Shut it, little Winchester" She huffs. "Where are you guys going?" John asks them. "I gotta go pick something up. I'll be back" Sam responds. "Wait, kids" John calls out to them as they go to walk out.

They turn back to him, "I promise, I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Deans okay" John promises. They share a look before nodding firmly, now headed out of John's room.

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"I gotta say, I'm impressed" Dean says to Tessa as they wander down the halls. "With what?" She asks confused. "You. You know, most people in your spout would be Jell-O by now, but you're taking this pretty well. Maybe better than me" He responds. "Don't get me wrong. I was pretty freaked at first. But...now I don't know. Maybe, I'm dealing" She turns to him, sighing.

"So you're okay with dying?" Dean cocks his eyebrow at this suspiciously. "No, of course not" Tessa scoffs. "I just think, whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen. It's out of my control. It's just fate" She puts it simple while Dean nods, the look on his face is not convinced with what she's dishing out. "Now that's crap" Dean blurts out, causing Tessa's face to drop.

"You always have a choice. You could either roll over and die or you keep fighting no matter wh-" Dean begins to say firmly but stops mid sentence when he hears a woman over the PA say, "Dr. Kripke to Room 237. Code blue. Dr. Kripke.." as some nurses and doctors rush to the room. Dean turns and begins to follow behind him.

"Dean, where are you going?" Tessa asks panicked. He turns to her, "Just wait here" He says calmly before turning back to run behind the doctors. He reaches a room where a little girl is being resuscitated, "Give me another amp of epi please" A doctor says to the nurse, Deans face is contorted with horror at the sight of the little girl dying. His eyes flicker above her to see the spirit that was hovering over him earlier, hovering over her.

"Get away from her!" Dean growls, reaching over to grab the spirit but it disapparates quickly. He watches as the doctors try to restart her heart but they're failing.

"Come on"

"Negative"

"Still nothing"

"Alright, let's call it"

"Time of death, 5:11 p.m."

"At least she's not suffering anymore"

Reality hits Dean, his heart paining because the little girl just lost her life. And soon enough, whether he wants to accept it or not. That could be him.

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Y/N has her head laid on Deans bed, sitting on the chair next to it. Half asleep as Sam walks into the room with a paper bag, "Hey, wake up" Sam says gently, reaching over to shake her shoulder lightly. She shoots up startled, "Huh, what? I'm awake" Babbling sleepily, wiping the drool from her mouth. Sam shakes his head with a small smile on his face.

Heart warmed from the fact that y/n refused to leave Deans side this entire time. It's a stressful day for all of them and he's surprised she hasn't reached for her pack of cigarettes yet. "What's that?" Y/N asks, pointing to the paper bag in Sams hand as she yawns. Sam sighs deeply, looking over at Dean. "We think maybe Deans around, and if he is....you both will make fun over me for this but um...." He pauses, looking down at the bag.

He reaches in to pull out an Ouija Board, "But there's one way we all can talk" Sam says. Dean scoffs behind him, the two still not seeing him as Y/N shoots Sam an unimpressed look. "Oh you gotta be kidding me" Dean and Y/N mutter in unison. Sam beckons y/n over to the foot of Deans bed, taking a seat on the ground cross legged.

"It's our only option y/n/n" Sam defends. "It's an ouija board, Sammy. I feel like I'm in a slumber party" Y/N scoffs as Dean chuckles at her humor. Sam gives her a pleading look, her face softens at his desperation before sighing. She obliged, limping over to the foot of the bed. Dean scoffs, "Come on, one puppy dog look from him and you're jello" Dean rolls his eyes, feeling a bit jealous.

"Here, let me..." Sam helps her to the ground to take a seat across from him. "Don't you forget who thought you that puppy dog look" Y/N points at him firmly as Sam smirks lightly. He takes the board out of the box and places it between him and y/n. They place their fingers in the planchette. As y/n touches the board, a slightly tingly feeling creeps up her fingers and down her spine. "Dean?" Sam calls out to him brother. "Dean, are you here?" Y/N calls out.

She sighs, "Well, that's a bust. How bout we braid each others hair, Sam?" Y/N retorts jokingly with a cheeky causing Dean and Sam to shake their heads amused, "We might as well break out into pillow fights" Dean mutters, taking a seat on the other side of the board, he sits crossed legged like Sam. "Alright, guys. This isn't gonna work" Dean then places his fingers on the planchette like them.

She gasps lightly the second he touches it, a surge of power running through her. She quickly pulls her hands away. "What's wrong?" Sam asks her concerned. She's still shaken, not sure why she did. "I thought I felt- Nothing" She responds, slowly putting her hands back. Dean cocks his eyebrows at this and then slightly begins to move it towards the 'Yes' on the board. Sam and Y/N scoff in relief, "Y/N...if that's you moving it- " Sam says warily.

"I'm fucked up, Sam but I'm not that fucked up. That ain't me" She mutters back. Dean is stunned that it worked. "I'll be damned" Dean mutters. Sam and Y/N smile at each other, chuckling in relief. "Oh, It's good to hear from you, charming" Y/N says softly, her heart swelling. A smile takes over Deans face. "It hasn't been the same without you, Dean" Sam says tearfully. "Damn straight" Dean responds.

In that moment, a white flash engulfs y/n's eyes. She gasps in pain, tilting her head towards the ceiling. "Y/N?!" Sam calls out for her concerned. His face is etched in horror when he notices her eyes are pure white. Dean is stunned, "What's going on?!" He asks. His voice filled her ears, as if it was her favorite song. Her eyes widen, settled in Deans direction.

Her fingers remain on the board, "Dean?" She whispers shakily, absolutely taken back that she could see Dean now. "Y/N? You can see me?!" Dean is shaken. She nods tearfully as Sam looks confused, "Can you see him?" Sam asks baffled. "Yeah" She croaks. "Oh thank g-" Dean goes to reach over to hug her but she stops him. "No, don't!" Y/N says, making him holt in position.

He looks at her confused. "I think us touching this is why I can see you" She says calmly. Dean nods understandably, "I'm just happy you can see me" Dean sighs as y/n smiles tearfully. "Me too" She sniffles. "How can you see and hear him but I can't?" Sam asks confused, a bit heartbroken he can't see his brother. "I don't know, but I can communicate for us now" She says hopefully.

"There's a spirit in the hospital. We need to hunt it" Dean quickly tells her. Her eyebrows raised at this, "A hunt? You're hunting" She gasps. "A hunt?" Sam asks. Y/N nods, "He said there's a spirit in the hospital and we have to hunt it" Y/N reiterates Deans words. "Ask him what kind of spirit is it" Sam tells her. She nods, "What kind of spirit do you think it is?" Y/N asks him.

"A reaper. I don't think it's killing people, I think it's taking them. You know...when their time is just up" Dean responds. Her heart drops, tears welling up in her eyes again, "So you think...it's after you?" She whispers. "It is" Dean says sadly. "What did he say?" Sam asks. "Oh, sorry. It's a reaper. And it's after him" Y/N says. Sams heart drops painfully.

"If it's here naturally...there's no way to stop it" Sam says in a solemn tone. "Yeah, you can't kill death" Dean sighs. "Dean, you're uh-" Y/N stutters. "I'm screwed, babe" Dean responds pessimistic. "No. No no no." She says firmly. "There's got to be a way" Sam insists, shaking his head he takes his hand off of the board. "Dad'll know what to do" Sam says, getting up from the ground.

"Where are you going?" Y/N asks, her hand still on the board as Dean looks on. "Dads room" Sam answers, leaving Dean and y/n in the room. They look at each other tearfully, "You'll be okay" Y/N insists. Dean shakes his head sighing, "I'm gonna make sure of it" She says firmly. Dean smiles sadly, "Thanks princess" He says tearfully before taking his hands off of the board, disapparating infront of y/n's eyes, tears brim at her eyes.

Finally allow herself to break down again. Her chest aching. She already lost her dad, she couldn't bare to lose Dean too. Deans heart swells painfully as Y/N cries into her hands because he probably isn't gonna make it. But Dean hasn't given up, he's determined to find a way to protect him family, to be there for them. One way or another, he's gonna make it.

Sam enters John's room in a rush, only to see the bed empty, his father no where in sight, "Dad?" Sam whispers in confusion.

In that exact moment, John enters the boiler room of the hospital. One of his arms in a sling, the other carrying the bag of stuff he asked Bobby to get for him. He rests it down in the middle of the room, groaning from the pain coursing through his body. He kneels and takes out some chalk and begins drawing a line with a circle on one end of the line, possibly a trap for the demon.

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Y/N hears the door open and quickly wipe her tears away, "Hey, so dad wasn't in his room" Sam tells her whilst helping her up from the ground she was still on, "Where is he?" She and Dean ask in unison worried, dusting herself off as she uses the crutch to balance. "I don't know. But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something in here" He tells her, taking a seat on Deans bed while she sits on the chair she was on earlier.

Dean moves closer as Sam flips through the journal and that's when she felt the chill she got earlier. She's pretty sure Dean is standing next to them. "Thanks for not giving up on me, guys" Dean says gratefully, although they can't hear him anymore. He takes a look at his vegetative state on the bed, painfully grimacing.

Sam then flips to a page about reapers, Deans face contorts in disbelief when he reads off of the page, shaking his head he mutters, "Son of a bitch" before running out of the room to look for Tessa. Leaving Sam and Y/N in the room. Dean trudges down the hall, back to Tessa's room only to now see her dressed in a black pantsuit, the room empty, not a soul in sight.

"Hi Dean" Tessa says in a solemn tone as she leans on the hospital bed. "You know, you read the most interesting things." Dean grits his teeth. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception?" Dean states ironically, offering a sarcastic chuckle as Tessa looks at him guilt ridden. "I sure didn't" He scoffs.

She doesn't answer so he continues, walking closer to her. "Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say a....a pretty girl" He points out, calling her out on her true identity. "You're much prettier than the last reaper I met" Dean states angrily, a small smile appearing on Tessa's face. "I was wondering when you'd figure it out" She says calmly.

Dean shakes his head, "I should've known. That whole 'accepting fate' rap of your is farrr too laidback for a dead chick. But you know, the mother and the body, I'm still trying to figure that one out" He further says. "It's my sandbox. I can make you see whatever I want" She simply puts it. "What is this, like, a turn on for you? Huh? Toying with me?" He spits angrily.

"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girls feelings" She shrugs as Dean looks at her with disbelief. "This was the only way I could get you to talk to me" Tessa says calmly. "Okay, fine. We're talking. The hell do you wanna talk about?" Dean spits. Tessa gets up from the bed and moves closer to Dean.

"How death is nothing to fear" She says, bringing her hand up to place it on his cheek. "It's your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already" She says calmly as she strokes his cheek. Dean shakes his head, refusing to believe it.

________________________________

Meanwhile, John set up an altar with red candles. A pentagon with circles at each point, red candles in each circle. He sits crossed legged in front of it, chanting an incantation in Latin, trying to summon the demon. He pulls out his knife, pressing the blade to his palm, digging it into his skin as he groans from the pressure and pain, continuing to chant the incantation as the blood drips into the bowl with the ingredients he made Bobby get.

He then strikes a match, before finishing the incantation. Dropping the lit match into the bowl, it lights aflame for a couple seconds before diminishing. John gets up from the altar and warily looks around the room for any signs on the demon. His heart stops when a man grabs his shoulder of a sudden, "What the hell are you doing down here buddy?" The man asks him suspiciously.

"I can explain" John quickly tries to come up with a lie. "Yeah? You're gonna explain to Security. Come on, follow me" The man says firmly, proceeding to usher John out. But he narrows his eyes at the man before smirking, he then cocks the Colt in his direction. "Hey!" The man turns around, eyes wide at the gun trained in his direction.

"How stupid do you think I am?" John smirks smugly. The man's eyes turn to a flash of yellow, a wide smirk taking over his face. "You really want an honest answer to that?" The man chuckles as two demon possessed doctors emerge from the background. "You conjuring me, John. I'm surprised. I took you for a lot of things....but suicidally reckless wasn't one of them" The yellow eyed demon smirks menacingly, mocking John.

"I could always shoot you" John retorts, mimicking his tone. "You could always miss" The demon smiles, pretending to try to take the gun away from John before chuckling darkly. "And you only got one try, don't you?" The demon winks at him. "Did you really think you could trap me?" The demon says smugly.

"Oh, I don't wanna trap you" John smirks, uncocking the hun. He lowers it, "I wanna make a deal" John says simply. The demons eyes widen in shock but his smile also widens.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N are still in Dean's room, "Dean. Are you here?" Y/N calls out for Dean but she doesn't feel or see anything. She looks over at Sam sadly and shakes her head. "We couldn't find anything in the book, I don't know how we can help you" Sam stresses, talking to Dean as he takes a seat on the couch. He rakes his hands through his hair nervously. "But we'll keep trying, alright?" Y/N adds. Resting her hand on the crown of his head.

"As long as you keep fighting" She says gently as she strokes his hair. "I mean, come on. You can't leave me and Sam all alone with John. They'll kill each other. You know that" Y/N jokes lightly, chuckling painfully. Sam cracks a smile at this. "We'll probably send y/n to an early grave because we stressed her out so much" Sam adds jokingly, earning a scoffed chuckle from y/n.

"I give it two weeks tops" She chuckles shaking her head. Their smiles drop slowly, "Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man. Not now. We were just starting to be brothers again" Sam whispers tearfully. Y/N gives him a sympathetic look, "Can you hear me?" Sam sobs lowly, his head bowed in his hands. Y/N sighs, getting up from her chair.

She slowly limps to the couch, settling next to her best friend. She then wraps one of her arms around his shoulder comfortingly, "He never stopped being your brother, Sammy" She says gently. This makes whatever Sam was holding onto break. The dam inside of his just started flowing. He buries his head in her shoulder sobbing. "He'll be okay" She tries to convince not only Sam, but herself. Stroking his hair as he sobs painfully.

________________________________

Back in the room with Tessa, "Look, I'm sure you've heard this before but...you gotta make an exception. You gotta cut me a break" Dean pleads with the reaper as he looks out the window. "Stage 3, bargaining" Tessa says. He turns to her. "I'm serious" He says. "My family's in danger. See we're kind of in the middle of this....um...war. And they need me" He tries to explain.

"The fights over" Tessa says calmly. "No it isn't" Dean insists. "It is for you" She states making his heart drop. "Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave. Victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong" She further elaborates. "The battle goes on without them" She assures him.

"My brother. Y/N. They could die without me" Dean pleads. "Maybe they will. Maybe they won't. Nothing you can do about it" She tells him honestly. Deans face drops, he turns away not answering her. "It's an honorable death. A warriors death" She tries to persuade him. "I think I'll pass on the 72 virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyways" Dean scoffs, covering up his sorrow with humor.

"That's funny. You're very cute." Tessa smiles. "There's no such thing as an honorable death. My corpse is gonna rot in the ground. My family is gonna die!" Dean bellows. "No. I'm not going with you. I don't care what you do" Dean says firmly, shaking his head. Tessa sighs and moves closer to him. "Well, like you said. There's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But...you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts." She states.

Dean looks at her confused, "So, yes. You can stay...you'll stay here for years...disembodied, scared. And over the decades, it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent" She says calmly. "What are you saying?" Dean asks fearfully, not wanting to believe what she's saying. "Dean...how do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go and they can't move on. And you're about to become one" She explains. Realization dawns on Dean, "The same thing you hunt" She adds. His heart stops, fearing he'll end up a vengeful spirit.

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Back in the boiler room, "It's very unseemly. Making deals with devils. How do I know this isn't just another trick?" The yellow eyed demon says suspiciously, "It's not trick. I will give you the Colt and the bullet...but you gotta help Dean" John says firmly. The demon moves closer to the patriarch Winchester. "You gotta bring him back." John says.

"Why, John, you're a sentimentalist. If only your boys knew how much their daddy loved them" The demon grins widely, John doesn't allow his words to get to him. "It's a good trade. You care a hell of a lot more about this gun than you do Dean" John says plainly. "Don't be so sure. He killed some people very special to me" The demon growls as John smiles smugly.

"But still, you're right. He isn't much of a threat. And neither is your other son, of course" The demon smirks. "Their little hot friend though, she is a gamble....I can't read her cards. But I will eventually" He smiles widely as John's smile falters, moving closer to John. "You know the truth, right? About Sammy, y/n/n and the other children?" The demon asks.

"Yeah. I've known for a while" John responds in a low tone. "But they don't, do they? You and f/n have been playing dumb" The demon presses. "Can you bring Dean back? Yes or no?" John grits his teeth angrily, glaring at him, not wanting to talk about this subject further. "No. But I know someone who can. It's not a problem" The demon responds with a dark smile.

"Good" John responds plainly, still glaring at him. "And before I give you the gun, I'm gonna wanna make sure that Deans okay, with my own eyes" He bargains. "Oh, John, I'm offended. Don't you trust me?" The demon feigns innocence in a mock hurt tone. John just scoffs, "Fine." The demon obliges. "So we have a deal?" John asks. "No, John, not yet. You still need to sweeten the pot" The demon growls.

"With what?" John scoffs. The demon glares at him, getting up into his face. "There's something else I want as much as that gun. Maybe more" The demon says in a menacing tone. John gulps fearfully but keeps his game face on.

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Dean and Tessa are sat on the hospital bed, "It's time to put the pain behind you" Tessa is still trying to convince Dean, caressing his hair gently. The way she's doing it right now, it doesn't seem to bring comfort to him. Part of his is wishing it was Y/N comforting him. All he wants to see is that beautiful cheeky smile on her face one last time before he kicks the bucket. "And go where?" Dean asks, his face filled with despair.

"Sorry. I can't give away the big punchline" Tessa says softly, taking her hand off of him. "Moment of truth....so what's it going to be?" She asks him. Dean hesitates for a second before turning to Tessa. He doesn't get a chance to answer because the lights in the room started to flicker, the electricity began buzzing.

They look around in worry, "What are you doing that for?" Dean asks her fearfully. She looks over at him confused, "I'm not doing it" She tells him. Their eyes flicker over to the vent when they see a black cloudy smoke coming out from it. It begins to engulf Tessa."What the hell?" Dean mutters confused. "You can't do this! Get away!!" She screams pained as Dean looks on, eyes wide with terror.

"What's happening?!" He screams fearfully as the cloud enters Tessa's mouth, the reaper screams as it does so. She then turns to Dean in a snap, with now yellow eyes. "Todays your lucky day, kid" before resting her hand on his forehead. Deans eyes widen, groaning in pain.

Back in his hospital room, Y/N is still consoling a broken Sam. Dean gasps awake, causing their heads to snap up in his direction. "Dean?!" They exclaim surprised as Dean chokes on the tubes in his mouth. "Help!!! We need help!!!!" Y/N screams for help from the doctors.

________________________________

"I can't explain it. The edemas vanished, the internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good" The doctor explains as he reads from the file after doing a fully body work on Dean. He's stunned by this and so are they. "You got some kind of angel watching over you" The doctor comments, still in disbelief. "Thanks doc" Dean thanks him before the doctor walks out of the room.

"You guys said a reaper was after me?" Dean asks the two younger hunters. "Yeah" Sam responds. "I saw you, full form everything. You talked to me. It was weird, I'm not gonna lie" Y/N says. "How?" Dean asks her surprised. "Beats me" She scoffs. "How'd I ditch the reaper though?" He asks them. "You got me." Sam responds shaking his head. "Dean, you really don't remember anything?" Y/N asks him again but he shakes his head.

"No, except this pit in my stomach" Dean responds, looking over at them. "Guys, something's wrong" Dean insists. A knocking on the door draws their attention, they turn to see John leaning on the door frame. "How you feeling, dude?" John asks his elder son with a smile. "Fine, I guess. I'm alive" Dean responds. "That's what matters" John says softly with a content smile.

"Where were you last night?" Sam asks his father suspiciously. "I had some things to take care of" John responds vaguely. "Well, that's specific" Sam retorts sarcastically. This makes y/n shake her head scoffing,  "Come on, Sam" Dean groans. "Did you go after the demon?" Sam asks. "No" John lies. "You know, why don't I believe you right now?" Sam picks an argument as Dean and Y/N shake their heads.

John sighs and enters the room, "Can we not fight?" John pleads. The three younger hunters look at him surprised when a smile takes his face over, "You know, half the time we're fighting. I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads" John chuckles, Sam is beyond taken back. "Sammy, I've- I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could." John says tearfully.

Dean turns his head to his father in suspicion as Y/N narrows her eyes at John. "I just don't wanna fight anymore, okay?" John says calmly. The boys have no idea how to respond, "John, are you alright?" Y/N asks him concerned. He just smiles wider, a content look on his face. "Yeah. I'm just a little tired" John nods smiling, she isn't convinced but they take the bait.

"Hey, Sam. Would you mind- uh. Would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?" John asks him younger son. "Yeah. Yeah sure" Sam says hesitantly before looking over at Dean and walking out the room. The silence is a little awkward so y/n gets up from her chair. "I'm gonna, uh, catch up with Sam and give you two some privacy" Y/N says, balancing herself on the crutch. John gives her a grateful smile.

"You take it easy, alright sweetheart?" John says to her gently. She looks at him confused before he engulfs her in a hug. She's taken back by this as Deans eyebrows shoot to the sky. "Uh, yeah. I will, Mr. Winchester" She chuckles awkwardly, patting his back. When John pulls away, "It's John" He smiles. She smiles back, "Sorry, John" She responds, guilt rising in her chest.

"And I'm sorry about yelling at you" She apologizes sincerely. "It's alright, we were all stressed. You've been through a lot already." He smiles, giving her a sympathetic look. "Thanks" Y/N sighs in relief gratefully before she limps out of the room. Y/N and Dean share a confused look from behind Johns back. She mouths, 'What the fuck?' To Dean who just shrugs.

He notices the look of despair on his fathers face and breaks the ice, "What is it?" Dean asks him. John sighs, "You know, when you were a kid...me and f/n come home from a hunt. And after what I'd seen, I'd be....I'd be wrecked" He admits. A tearful smile on his face, "And you....you'd come up to me and you'd put your hand on my shoulder, and you'd look me in the eye, and you-" John holds back a sob, tears brimming in his eyes threatening to fall.

"You'd say, 'It's okay, Dad' ". He smiles tearfully. Dean doesn't know how to answer, "Dean....I'm sorry" John apologizes sincerely. "For what?" Dean asks. "You shouldn't have had to say that to me. I should've been saying that to you" John says honestly. "You know, I put- I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sam and Y/N, and you took care of me and F/N. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once" John says proudly.

"I just want you to know...that I am so proud of you" John sniffles. "This really you talking?" Dean asks warily, not expecting any of this from his father. "Yeah. Yeah it's really me" John responds smiling as he sniffles. "Why are you saying this stuff?" Dean asks. John just sighs and takes a seat on his sons bed. He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out an old red velvet box, Dean is confused when John hands it to him.

"Dad, what's this?" He asks his father when he opens it to see white gold princess-cut ring, the diamond was small but dazzling. The band was thin but sturdy. "It's your mothers wedding ring" John answers. Deans eyes snap up to his fathers in shock. "Why are you giving me this?" Dean asks his father stunned. "Because it's always been with me and the right person to give it to is my eldest son" John smiles.

His eyes flickers to the door then back to Dean, "And I think you and I both know, who the right person for you to give that to is" He gives his son a knowing look, Deans heart swells at this. "I- I don't k-" Dean stutters, his eyes trained on the gorgeous ring. "It's okay son" John assures him chuckling. "Y/N is an amazing girl. She didn't leave your side for one second, and might I mention, came to your defense without hesitation and gave me a hefty piece of her mind" John chuckles shaking his head.

"I don't know what to say that" Dean says still taken back. John smiles, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Just promise me you'll watch out for Sammy and y/n/n, okay?" John orders him gently. "Yeah, Dad. You know I will" Dean responds in a cracky tone, clutching the ring box in his hand. Closing it to look up at his father, tears now running down Johns face. "You're scaring me" Dean croaks at the sight of his father crying.

"Don't be scared, Dean" John assures him tearfully, he then leans over and whispers something in Deans ear. The ring box falls from Deans clutches, his face dropping at his fathers request,not expecting those words to come out of his mouth. Wondering, why in tarnation would his father give him this ring, ask him to take care of Sam and Y/N but then request such monstrosity of him.

When John pulls away, he stands up and looks down to see his son with pure disbelief, conflict, pain etched on his face. He gives his son a firm nod and a tearful smile but Dean can't even look him in the eye. John then exits Deans room, strolling down the hall. Despair and horror on his face. He reenters his room, met face to face with the man he made the deal with to save Deans life. He then takes the Colt out of his pocket, resting it on the table.  "Okay" He says to the man in a solemn tone.

________________________________

Sam and Y/N stroll down the hall, "Did you put sugar in mine?" Y/N asks him, sipping her coffee. She grimaces a bit at the bitterness. "I put three packs" Sam informs her, chuckling at the look on her face as she limps, "Jesus, this tastes the the bottom of the filter" She grimaces. "You're just deprived from nicotine and also, a sugar junkie" Sam retorts jokingly scoffing.

"Don't be a hater Mr. Half-Caf Double Vanilla Latte" She retorts rolling her eyes chuckling and Sam smiles. Her smile drops and she stops in her tracks when her eyes land on a man sprawled out on the floor in a room. Her heart sinks to the floor, "What's w-" Sam asks, looking in the direction her eyes are trained in. "Dad?" Sam whispers pained, rushing to his fathers side.

His grip on the coffee cup he was bringing for John falters. "Help!!! We need help!!!" Y/N screams for nurses along with Sam. "Please! Somebody help us!!" Sam pleads. Nurses and Doctors pile in within seconds.

The doctors are trying to resuscitate John Winchester as the three younger hunters look on, tears in their eyes. "Guys, you'll have to wait outside" A nurse tries to usher them out. "No, it's our dad. It's our dad!" Dean snaps. The doctors have an oxygen mask over John's nose, pumping his chest. "Okay, let's try again. An amp of atropine" The doctor orders the nurse. "Come on" Dean pleads tearfully.

"Pushing atropine....In" The nurse does as the doctor says. Sam is breathing heavily looking on as y/n tries to control herself, staying strong for the boys. "Okay, stop compression" The doctor orders. "Stopped. Last breath" The nurse obliges taking her hand off of John's chest as the other nurse takes the mask off.  The monitor showing he has no heartbeat.

"Come on, come on, come one" Dean mutters pleadingly. "Still no pulse" Another nurse says, placing her finger to his neck. "Okay, that's it, everybody. I'll call it" The doctor says.

"Time of death, 10:41 a.m."

________________________________

Authors Note: DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD!!😁I took way longer with this chapter because I got sick over this past week, but I'm doing a little better now. Updates might be a bit slower but I'm trying, thank you to those who are reading and here is the season 2 premiere!!! Note that this chapter is not edited. Hope everyone enjoyed.

Taglist: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn

Xoxo

[girls-alias]

Mental - Dean Winchester

Title: Mental - Dean Winchester

Words: 1,169

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Mental health, mental breakdown, SH.

Prompt:

Saw a TikTok edit of Dean and it inspired me.

I excused myself from the table as I hurried to stand. I didn't look at Sam and Dean before I left the room. I was slightly hyperventilating but once I rushed to my room I couldn't breathe. I practically threw myself into the back of the door. Needing it closed and need privacy. I slid down the door trying to control my breathing, to bring air into my lungs but the panic attack didn't end.

How could Dean like me? I'm a mess, I'm crazy.

Nothing has even gone wrong and I'm still miserable. I should be happy, it's a day off, and I should be enjoying quiet time with Sam and Dean.

Dean doesn't like me. He just confessed it to find a way to let me down slowly.

I shouldn't have told him about my crush, I should have just hidden it like I have done all year.

He is so out of your league. He'd never like you. Remember when he would check out other girls, he doesn't like you,

Oh, my God. I'm an idiot.

My mouth was dry from breathing so heavily, I wanted to gulp to try and gain some control over my own body but it wasn't working. My vision seemed to be clouded by dark spots. I knew there was only one way to gain some control but I cried as I thought about it.

I feel like my only solution right now is to self-harm, I need to get control of myself. I'm acting manic. I have been clean for 78 days. I'm doing so well. I can't break that now. It took me years to get that far.

I cried as I crawled to my display knife that sat on my desk. It was a real knife, sharp enough to cut paper easily but it was only ever decorative. I pulled it from the stand. Resting my back against the drawers I brought my knees up close to my chest. I put my arm facing me in the divet between my legs. The tears evacuated my eyes as if an alarm was ringing.

"Y/N," Dean's voice called through the shut door, worry lacing his tone. "Are you okay?" He asked, worry more evident. I slowly put the knife down not wanting him to hear it. I cleared my throat softly.

"Yeah, why?" I asked but instantly winced as I knew I would never normally say that and Dean might recognise that.

"You just ran off," He explained not seeming to hear my error.

"Yeah, I just needed the bathroom," I lied. I waited anxiously in those few seconds it took Dean to reply. The door isn't locked, I hadn't thought of that. I gulped watching the handle afraid in case he came in and saw me. I don't want to think of how upset Dean might be.

"Oh, are you sure you're okay? You sound a little weird," He explained, his voice a little cheerier but suspicious.

"Gee, thanks Dean," I played it off. Smiling as Dean chuckled seemingly happy with my response.

"Okay, well come back when you're done," Dean explained, I listened to his steps as he walked away. I sighed with relief and sorrow. My tears quickly resuming. A part of me wanted him to come in, to save me but I was too scared to say anything.

I buried my hand into my sleeve, bringing it to my mouth to quietly sob into it. I screamed as the door swung open forcefully. I looked up to see Dean had burst into my door, eyes on me instantly. He looked completely startled, maybe even scared. I didn't have time to compose myself before Dean was crouching beside me. He held my hand, sneaking a glance at my wrist before his eyes dived deep into mine.

"What's going on?" He asked softly. I sighed, not caring to try and compose myself. I look like a mess anyway.

"You shouldn't have lied to me. You should have just turned me down," I sobbed as he moved closer, His hand on the back of my head bringing me closer to him so I could cry onto his chest, comforting me as he stroked my hair.

"I didn't lie to you, baby," He's never used a pet name for me before. He's just feeling sorry for me. "I do like you, I've always liked you. From the second you walked out the room when we first met I told Sam, I wanted you," He explained but I shook my head as I sobbed.

"You're just saying that because I did this," I stated as I lifted my arm.

"No, baby. No, I've liked you from the second I met you. I was too scared to say anything because I didn't think you'd like me," He explained as he hugged me a little tighter. "I want to be yours," He added. I sobbed, sitting up as I shook my head to look at him.

"You're too hot for me," I exclaimed but Dean shook his head. I could almost see hearts in his eyes as he looked at me.

"I want to be yours," He repeated. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at him.

"I'm emotionally unstable," I argued but he smiled softly.

"I want to be yours," He repeated once again. I shook my head.

"Dean, -"

"I want to be yours," He interrupted. He placed his hand on my cheek, his eyes peering into my soul. Like earlier, all the air seemed to leave my lungs but this time I knew it was coming back. "I want to be yours," Dean commented before leaning in to connect our lips. My brain frazzled as I realised Dean was kissing me, we'd never kissed before. This is a bit far if he was lying. He has to be telling the truth. I should believe him.

I kissed him back, my hand coming up to the back of his neck as our lips moved in sync. His tongue graced my bottom lip. I allowed his access as our tongues met in the middle, dancing around each other. I could taste his morning coffee. He smiled against my lips as he continued to kiss me. I melted into his arms.

He slowly pulled away. I couldn't stop the smile on my face from spreading as I saw the joy on his face.

"Come on, we'll get you cleaned up and I'll take you on the date I've been planning all day," He explained cheerfully. I chuckled softly as he stood up. I tried my tears, looking up to see Dean offering to help me up. I smiled as I accepted his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. He took the opportunity to kiss me again. A shorter but passionate kiss. "I want you to wear something cute," He explained playfully as he led me to the bathroom. I smiled knowing now that Dean likes me and I am enough for him.

Masterlist

Working On

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

WC: 1828

Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, canon elements, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashed, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding, panic attacks, bondage, forced mating, dated derogatory terms

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnaubingo -Non-Traditional Alpha Traits @spnabobingo -Bed Sharing

A/N: This part has a couple of flashbacks in italics

A/N II: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N III: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

PART IX

Partway down the drive, the car sputters and dies, rolling to a stop a few yards from the house. Bobby got up, mumbled idijits straightened his trucker cap, and heard the Impala’s squeaky doors simultaneously open; then Dean's voice was carrying on the night air, “If you’ve screwed up my car, I’m going to kick your ass!” 

Bobby marches towards the car and spits, “Stop giving your brother a hard time.” His rebuff dissipates when the elder brother's scarlet irises lock on him. Dean moves in front of a female sitting in the backseat like a predator protecting its kill and menacingly growls at him. 

****

Sam quickly rounds the car, blocking the Beta from his line of sight. “Dean, calm down, it’s Bobby. Remember when he'd play baseball with you instead of practicing with the shotguns?” Dean ignores Sam and tries to round-end his equally quick brother when a hand grabs his wrist. Dean halts and peers back at the O, who points to him, her ear, and Sam, who advises, “Listen to your Omega Dean."

Bobby’s jaw drops upon hearing the youngest Alphas' words. He sees the O wince as she holds her arms up and watches Dean quickly shift from aggression, something the younger man is prone to, to the gentleness he remembers from childhood. Once out, she scented the air before making the universal sign for Beta. “Yes, he is. Bobby, this is..," Dean strumbled over what to call her when she held up her hands and, with her fingers, indicated the number 4444968503.

“That’s a helluva lot of numbers for your name, little lady,” Bobby remarks, looking sternly at Dean. “Do I have to worry about you going for my throat while sleeping?” Thoroughly abashed by his reaction toward the man he considers a surrogate father, he responded No, Sir. “Good. We’ll discuss this," gesturing to Deans still scarlet-hued eyes, "later." Bobby peered around his darkened scrap yard. "Let's get inside. I feel like a crow waiting to be picked off here.”

Little did the seasoned hunter know how right he was as two celestial beings observed the group from the shadows.

"You know,” the one in a business suit said, “When they told me the apocalypse had gotten the green light and the job of watching over Michael and Lucifer's vessels to my department, I thought, this is it, this is what’s going to make me more than employee of the month for the fifth, no, sixth consecutive millennium. And I was this close," held two fingers centimeters apart, "To getting the key to the Axis Mundi and mano e mano with the big guy.” His features hardened, “Of course, that was before you. Care to explain why disregarded orders to get rid of that birth defect?”

The other looked across the yard at the parties retreating to the house while his unerring memory returned to the past. 

****

Castiel was assigned to watch over Dean from his conception. As his charge grew, he was in awe of the boy's perception of others' emotions and intuitive knowledge of how to comfort them.

Shortly before his fourth birthday, John and Mary told their son that he would be a big brother, showing him the ultrasound photograph and Dean got excited, saying he’d be the best big brother to his two siblings. His confused parents again explained there was only one pup but Dean skewed his little face into a fierce expression, continuing to insist there were two amused his father.

On the other hand, Mary felt apprehensive at her offspring's insistence, and the feeling grew throughout the pregnancy. A few months later, she was fixing lunch when Dean came running in and began talking to her middle, saying he would be the best brother in the world to them. He placed his tiny hands on opposite sides of her swollen belly, and Mary felt kicking directly under them.

Several weeks later, Deans bounced off the walls, saying his siblings would be here tomorrow. John and Mary reminded him it would be longer before his brother was ready for his debut, but in the wee hours of the following day, Mary’s water broke.

John found himself juggling a hospital bag, his son, and his mate to the car for the hospital. The angel sat in the backseat gazing at his excited charge and felt—regret, aware that fulfilling his orders to eliminate the extra pup would unduly distress the vessel.

But before Castiel could further analyze this sudden human emotion, he got distracted by the doctor saying there were complications with the pup. They needed John's permission for an emergency procedure. Not detecting any unnatural issue in the mother or pups, he quizzically followed to the delivery room where Mary, despite being drugged, had a quick delivery.

The angel watches the doctor evaluate the slightly sedated pups and deems them healthy before handing them to a nurse. But instead of taking them to the nursery, they detoured to the stairwell, and Castiel quickly realized they weren't a staff member but rather someone intent on stealing both pups. The angel intervenes and then finds him in a quandary. 

Saving Lucifer's vessel left him holding the baby—specifically, the unnecessary pup whose existence puzzled heaven. When the female gazes at him with disturbingly focused eyes, other emotions trigger in the angel, leaving him unable to complete his task. Momentarily searching, he transports her to another state and swaps her with another stillborn pup. 

****

"You disregard the plan that's been in place for eons because some reject made you feel?!" Zachariah barked out a laugh of disbelief and turned to his companion. “I’m going to ask and don’t lie. What made you grow a conscience this time? Strike that. I don't care. Now, who else knows about your screwup?"

"I told no one."

"Then we've got a mole within our midst." Zachariah is interrupted by the Winchester Alpha pulling into the yard. Pointing a finger at Castiel, the senior angel says, "This is your only chance to return to my good graces. Find out who is behind that thing's reappearance."

“Okay, thanks.” Bobby tossed the cordless on his desk. “Dr. Stevenson can get it, but it’ll take a day.”

“Good," John says, tossing back his third glass of whiskey. "The sooner that implants back in, the better.” Bobby sipped it on his glass, studying the other hunter he’d known for years. 

Bobby learned the day they meet that John Winchester was an obsessive bastard who’d do anything to get the demon that killed his mate, including dragging his two very young sons into the hunter life.

****

The first time the boys were left with him, Sam had just turned three and was curious about everything. Dean? Well, he found the seven-year-old rather odd. He would get out of sorts if his training schedule were changed but patient as Job with the toddler, answering every question, no matter how crazy they were, and caring for Sam as if he were his pup. 

One night, screaming woke him up. Rushing to the room the boys were sharing; Bobby stopped dead in his tracks. Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, rocking a howling Sam, trying to comfort him with tears streaming down his face. When he saw Bobby, Dean panicked and began apologizing, babbling on that Sam didn't mean to do it and he’d clean up the mess, confusing the Beta before noticing Sam had wet himself and the bed.

Reassuring Dean it wasn’t a big deal, Bobby gathered some clean sleep clothes and rustled them into a warm bath. Leaving Dean to watch Sam, he stripped the soiled bedding and tossed it into the washer, making a mental note to get a bed protector, grabbed a lawn bag, split it open, and placed it under the spare bedding.

He had just finished remaking the bed when Dean, carrying his sleeping brother, entered with a weary expression that made Bobby sad and angry. 

Putting on his kindest smile, he helped them back into bed, left a small lamp he’d found on, and told Dean to wake him if they needed anything, no matter how trivial.

****

Bobby returns to the present when John drops the now-empty bottle on his desk. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls a fresh one. Topping off his glass he remarks, "You wanna tell me why you failed to mention Dean has a fresh claimed Omega, let alone one beat all to hell." He stares John straight in the eye while sliding the bottle toward him.

John suppressed snarling for such an impertinent question, knowing he needed to stay on good terms with the Beta until Dean finished his mandatory probation and told him about Helms's establishment, Sam witnessing the O fighting with his Alpha lugs—explaining why it looked like it went three rounds with a vengeful spirit—to purchasing it for a dollar.

However, John couldn't hide the flash of guilt in his eyes as he skimmed over what happened at the clinic before admitting the judge's enforcement of the claiming statute was his fault, but didn't sugarcoat the details of witnessing Dean's claiming horrified Bobby.

“If everything is like you say, what'd you need Frank's help for?"

John looked directly at him, saying he needed the state order to take Sam erased if Dean failed to fulfill his probation. Bobby knew the Alpha was lying through his teeth but didn't call him out. Instead, he threw his drink back and headed to bed.

Passing the room the boys still occupied when staying; Bobby could hear them talking before loudly closing his bedroom door, giving John time to finish that second bottle. When he reopened it later, he could hear the Alpha's loud snoring, and carefully snagged the keys from his jacket, slipped out the kitchen door, and took the scenic route to the Alpha’s truck.

Bobby knows whenever John is hiding won't be in the regular places, i.e., in the glove box, over the visor, ect; began examining the vehicle's exterior and, finding nothing, opens the weapons catch. Nothing stands out when he spots a curse box and recalls John inquiring about creating one some time ago.

Bobby fiddled around with the unfinished box when, bingo, it popped open, revealing a bunch of rolled papers inside. He crossed to the garage and fired up a printer, making copies of the documents then returned everything to its original position because John would notice if anything were misplaced. Heading back to his room, Bobby noticed light still coming from underneath the boy's door and lightly rapped it before opening it.

The elder brother was spooning his mate from behind, which made sense since Bobby knew from personal experience that lying on bruised ribs dulled the pain. However, it was difficult for the man to process why his brother was sleeping snugly against her front, his fingers twined with Dean's, resting on her hip.

PART X

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva   @lassie-bird  @nancymcl   @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm @strawblueberrys  @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @kazsrm67

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

[the-night-moves-writing]

Sisterhood

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.

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 20: Canon Compliant

hunger | @autisticandroids Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1,632 Main Tags/Warnings: Endverse Cas/Dean, Endverse, Bittersweet, Discussion of Lazarus Rising, Angel True Forms, Dirty Talk, Fade to Black Summary: Endverse Cas talks about what it was like to have Dean inside him.

There'll be peace when you are done - are you done? | @brainfuzz Rating: General Word Count: 3,216 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Finale, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On,Post-Canon Fix-It,Fix-It Summary: Like most fans, I thought the final episode was terrible. I also thought were gaps that made no sense, and not just the missing people (who was Sam's wife, really), but gaps in the story. The biggest gaps for me were the “find anything? Yeah I got something” leading to a pie festival, which somehow abruptly turned into a vampire clown clownpires, clowpires? hunt, with no explanation of how that happened. So, I figured it out. And fixed the ending so it made sense all at the same time.

no proof one touch | @watchinghimrakeleaves Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 5,389 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Finale, Love Confessions, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Winchester in Heaven, Castiel and Dean Winchester Reunion in Heaven, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester Summary: When Castiel learns that Dean has entered heaven, he's determined to avoid him to save them both the pain of dealing with his confession. Dean is equally as determined to find him, leading him to put up signs for Cas anywhere he thinks the angel might be.

Day after day, sorrow in his heart | @silver-stake-through-the-heart Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 20,058 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Alastair (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Mary Winchester, Sam Winchester, God | Chuck Shurley, POV Dean Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Angst, Emotional Hurt, Mental Breakdown, Self-Loathing, Suicidal Ideation, Suicide Attempt, Pining Dean Winchester, References to John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Brief Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Self-Blaming Dean Winchester, Nightmares, Castiel's Handprint (Supernatural), Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising (Supernatural), Temporarily Human Castiel (Supernatural), Demon Dean Winchester Arc, Godstiel Arc, Dean Winchester's Season 13 Widower Arc, Castiel and Dean Winchester's Season 15 Divorce Arc, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene (Supernatural), Post-Episode AU: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural), Hopeful Ending Summary: Everything begins when he crawls out of a tomb with no name, where he's been buried alone. So alone, in fact, there isn't a single living soul miles and miles around. Everything begins earlier, but he can't remember it. Everything begins later, in a barn, and each second of it is engraved in his memory. There are so many beginnings for this story, and so many ends—each and every one breaking his heart.

An Abundance of Light (WIP) | @presentlydean & catidono (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 56,340 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Donna Hanscum & Jody Mills, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel & Jack Kline, Slow Burn, Original Characters - Freeform, nephilim & cambion, Jack as God, hunter hub Sam Winchester, Eileen deserved better 2k22, Internalized Homophobia, Canon-Typical Internalized Homophobia, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Isolation, self-destructive behaviors, Communication Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, kissing for comfort and also gay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Panic Attacks, conflicting love languages, They're stupid your honor Summary: Jack’s new rules for heaven are simple: no intervening in human affairs. But when Dean is mortally wounded on a hunt, that simple directive becomes impossible for Castiel to follow, so he does what he does best and rebels, returning to earth to save Dean. But life on earth after Chuck is more complicated than any of them could have predicted. Dean retreats from the world, Castiel struggles to meet Jack’s expectations, and Castiel’s deathbed confession still hangs unresolved between them. They are free now, but having freedom and knowing what to do with it are two different things. After years of trauma and pain, learning to make a different kind of choice—a kind that will allow them to heal—is easier said than done.

Far From Heaven: Part One | @Taymarpigeon Rating: Explicit Word Count: 102,086 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Heavy Angst, Gratuitous Smut, Fluff, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester Has Internalized Homophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Extremely Dubious Consent, Wing Kink, Canon-Typical Violence, Angelic Grace as Lube (Supernatural)Angelic Grace-Powered Orgasms (Supernatural)Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Dom/sub, POV Alternating, BDSM, Risk Aware Consensual Kink Summary: For years people have joked about Dean and Cas being boyfriends, Dean shrugged it off 'cause, well, reasons. As for Cas? Well he's Cas! Probably didn't even know what his dick was for before Metatron stole his Grace. But Metatron did steal his Grace. Cas is human now. And Dean certainly knows what his dick is for. Sometimes a relationship doesn't start with flowers and a boombox held on your shoulder outside your crush's bedroom window. Sometimes it starts with a homicidal Angel, a failed date, and arguing in a storm.