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too-many-baes · 5 years ago

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The Life of a Hunter

Pairing: fem!reader x Dean Winchester

Warning(s): Injury (bad one), blood, mentions of death, all the angst possible

Word Count: 2.3K

Summary: The life of being a hunters girlfriend becomes too much for you to handle

A/N: This is another one from my old blog. I revamped it a bit and I personally like it better than before, so hopefully so do you guys!

My requests are open so fire away anything you want me to write

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The life of a hunter isn’t easy, that’s a give in. They put their lives on the line every day to save people, sometimes even the world. There’s no paycheck waiting when they’re done, no medal of honour to be hung around their necks. All they receive is their own solitary knowledge of their good deeds. Being a hunter wasn’t something anyone signed up for half-heartedly and was not a job to be taken lightly. Yes, hunters were outrageously brave and deserved more credit, but there was another group of people you thought deserved more recognition as well. That was being the significant other of a hunter. You know better than anyone that it comes with its own set of issues. Sure, you weren’t out saving virgins from dragons or innocents from hungry vampires or vengeful ghosts, but you were there.

You were there when they set off on a hunt, you were there on the couch every night trying to fend off sleep in case they came home. You were there to stitch them up when they came home injured and you were there waiting by the phone hoping for a call, but fearing what it could say. You were there for all of that and more, but you feared you would have to be there when shit hit the fan. There may be a day when you have to be there, crying with their loved ones, there to burn their body, and then there to just… keep going. As if you could.

These were things you always feared, things that played on your mind, but when you started dating your boyfriend Dean and he had told you what he did you had thought that those things would be something that you could handle. Being with him would be worth it, you told yourself. And it had, for a very long time. Every moment you spent with Dean you were happy. From cuddling up to him on the couch, laughing at his bad singing or even just sitting in silence in the car with your hands comfortably locked together, those were the moments that made it all worth it. Until last week when you realised something.

You had been awaiting his return from what he assured you was a simple salt and burn that would be a day max. You were in the kitchen at Bobby’s making coffee when the door had burst open, revealing a frantic Sam and an unrecognisable Dean. He had slashes from his shoulder to his hips, and his face was purple and swollen, making his green eyes disappear. You felt as though your lungs had been pulled out through your throat and your heart had given up on you, but none of that mattered as you ran to help carry him. You and Sam lifted his limp body up onto the table as gently as both of your panic would allow.

“Sammy, what the hell happened?” You screamed as you ripped off what was left of his shirt, gasping at what you saw. The slashes were deep, so deep that you were sure if you could handle looking long enough you’d be able to catch glimpses of his ribs.

“I don’t know, it happened so fast! It-it got the jump on us and-oh god is he still breathing?” You checked his pulse. It was there, but only just. You and Sam did the best you could to fix him up, running around grabbing towels and stitches and anything you could think to help him, but no matter what you did his pulse continued to slow until you were sure it had stopped. You were both yelling and screaming, begging Dean to hold on, to stay with you. In that moment you felt as though you were helplessly watching on as the life of your boyfriend dissipated from the world.

If Castiel hadn’t shown up and healed him Dean would have died that day. It was that day that you came to a realisation. As you had gone to the bathroom to clean the blood, his blood, off of your hands and let sobs rack your body, tears raining into the sink. You were falling in love with Dean Winchester. You had thought that the day you realized that would be a happy one but it had only made your sobs more intense, causing you to collapse to the tiled floor, because in that moment you knew. You just knew that you couldn’t do it any more. The sleepless nights and waiting by the phone, the stitches and tears. You couldn’t repeat what you had to go through that day again. It was because of this you knew, even though it would break your heart, you had to leave him.

You had convinced Dean to take a couple of days off hunting under the guise that you thought he should rest, but really you had just wanted a few normal days with him before you left. A few more days that you could try and prepare yourself to leave, and a few more normal days that you could use just to enjoy his company. You made the most out of it, sharing intimate cuddles in the mornings, full of light pecks and rubbing noses, followed by lazy afternoons wrapped up in each other on the couch. You had fun nights cooking and blasting rock music, air-guitaring every solo. You soaked it in, knowing that you may never be as happy in your life as you had been with him. But your decision was final, and for your own sanity you had to go.

You wake up on what you decided was your final morning with him knowing if you waited any longer you’d never go. You roll over to examine his face, mapping every line and freckle to etch it into your memory. You take in his sharp jaw line, his light stubble. The way his lips curve and the way he was peaceful when he slept, untroubled by the nightmares he had to face while awake. You turn onto your back and suck in a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes shut to hold back the tears you could feel forming. You mentally scold yourself for wanting to cry already, this was the easy part.

You get up as silently as you could and make your way downstairs to put on some coffee. While sitting down at the table you let yourself get lost in your own thoughts when movement by the door startles you. You relax when you see it was only Sam, up early as always.

“Oh, Sam, sorry I was in my own world”, you say. Over the course of dating Dean you’d gotten to know Sam and you felt a twinge of sadness looking at him knowing he didn’t know he’d never see you again after today. You weren’t just having to leave Dean, you were leaving everyone in his life. Sam was someone you were going to miss a great deal. He looks at you and notices the sadness plastered on your face.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He enquires, sitting down at the table opposite you. You let out a breath you were holding and look up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile.

“Yea”, you start nodding at him, “yea, Sammy I’m fine.” While it was obvious he didn’t believe you, he accepts your answer out of politeness. “You know if you ever need to talk…” He offers as his sentence trails off, clearly feeling awkward at the interaction. A sad smile creeps onto your face.

“Thank you Sam, you’re a good guy.” With that you choose to leave him, finally deciding to face the music. You climb up the stairs, your feet feeling like lead. You walk into Dean’s room to see he has just finished getting ready for the day, sitting at the edge of the bed tying his boots. He looks up at you with those entrancing green eyes that make you want to give up your resolve and ask him to get back into bed with you. No, I have to do this.

“Morning”, he says, moving over to kiss you. You move your head away so your lips don’t meet. You stare at the ground not feeling brave enough to make eye contact.

“Y/N what’s up, you okay?” The softness and caring in his voice kills you. You suck in one large breath of air before meeting his emerald gaze.

“Dean… I can’t do this anymore.” Many emotions flicker through his eyes at that moment, but confusion seems to be the one that sticks out the most. “You can’t do what, you can’t do us anymore? Are you breaking up with me?” Hurt seeps through his voice causing your throat to clench uncomfortably. “I don’t get it, everything’s been great. Where is this coming from?” He gently grabs your shoulders in a hold that speaks as loud as his voice.

“It’s just too much, Dean. I can’t do this anymore.” His eyes search yours for something you may not be telling him. “What brought this on? You don’t have to do this we can talk about it”, he desperately pleads. You break away from his hold and move around the room, picking up the few items that you left here for when you stayed over. You put things into a bag all the while Deans mumbling and watching your every movement.

Just as you zip your bag Dean bangs his fist against the wall, giving you such a fright that your bag falls through your fingers and to the ground. “DAMNIT Y/N, TALK TO ME, WHAT IS GOING ON WITH YOU?!”

“I CAN’T WATCH YOU DIE AGAIN!” You scream in response, realisation dawning on his face. “Seeing you like that it killed me Dean. I care too much about you to see that happen again. What if next time Cas isn’t there to save you? It’s too much.” You pick up your bag and walk past him to go down the creaky wooden stairs. Not long after his footsteps are hot on your tail.

“C’mon Y/N, you knew what you were signing up for.” He says the harsh words with desperation in his voice as he continues following you right out of the door and to your car. “I know Dean, I thought I could handle it. The other day showed me I can’t”, you say while tears wet your face and neck. You don’t bother to wipe them as you throw your bag in the boot of the car as you know they’ll be replaced as soon as they’re gone.

“Y/N, please don’t leave”, he says barely above a whisper. “I think I’m falling in lov-” “Please don’t say that, please. I need to leave.” You interrupt him before he could say the four letter word that had been tormenting you for days. Turning to face him you see a solitary tear escape and slide down his cheek. You didn’t want to stick around to see any more, you felt guilty enough already.

“But it’s true”, he states. He is standing close enough to you that you can lean forward and rest your forehead against his, closing your eyes and simply breathing. “I know, Dean, I feel the same”, you admit reluctantly, opening your eyes to stare into his. “That’s why I have to leave. I couldn’t handle losing you like that.” You’re about to pull away but Dean grips onto your arms and pulls you into a kiss. Your lips were wet with tears and the kiss was filled with sorrow. You held it for a long time, wanting to relish this last moment you would have with him.

“Please.” He says one last time as you pull away from his face. You tug him into a hug, gripping the fabric of his jacket to pull him as close as you could. As you nuzzle your head into his neck Dean hugs you back just as tight as if his grip would prevent you from taking his world away.

“I’m sorry Dean”, you whisper as you separate, opening the car door and buckling yourself in. Your window was open so Dean lent on the window frame. “Y/N…” He trails off, desperately searching for something, anything that would make you stay.

You start your engine and turn your face to look at him again. His tears have multiplied to the point that you could track their journey down his cheeks with the trails they left behind. He could do no such thing with the tracks of your tears as you had cried so many your cheeks were covered with a wet blur.

“Take care Dean.” With that you drive your car out of Singer’s auto, looking in your rear-view mirror to see Dean watching as you leave and drive out of sight. Your sobs were racking your body now, so much that you had to pull over a few minutes later, resting your head onto the steering wheel.

This is the right thing to do. This is the right thing to do. You repeat this over and over in your head until your sobs die down to sniffles and your eyes run out of tears.

You drive and drive until you can drive no longer. You could feel your phone buzzing in your pocket the whole time but you ignored it. Eventually, when the sun has well left the sky and you can’t keep your eyes open any longer you pull into the first motel you see.

You get into your dingy room and collapse on your bed falling into a restless sleep with one thing floating around in your mind.

If this is the right thing to do, why does it hurt so much?

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Part Two

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