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percywinchester27 · 7 years

Text

Stroke of luck (Part-3)

Word count: 3100-ish

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Warnings: None. Fluff and a smartass OC maybe ;)

Series Summary: Dark highway, middle of the night, a bad boy driving an Impala, and a Damsel in distress. Too cliche? Think again.

A/N: I like where this story is going, hope y’all too :) Beta’d by the amazing @sdavid09. Feedback is REALLY appreciated <3

Flashback in italics

Disclaimer: The taglists aren’t working lately and neither are the links. The part linked below can also be found on my masterlist :)

Catch up: Part 1, Part 2

"Dude, where the hell were you?" Sam questioned first thing, when Dean opened the bunker door. It was past 2 in the morning. "I've been waiting up for you."

"Sorry, Mommy," Dean said sarcastically, discarding his bag on the table.

"No, seriously," Sam insisted. "You've been out of touch for almost 2 days now. Last I knew you bolted on me for a Vamp hunt. No text, no call, no nothing."

"The phone got smashed," Dean replied. "I figured I'd be back soon enough. If I’d had any idea you were gonna pounce on me tiger mommy style, I'd have called." Sam didn't need to know how close Dean had gotten to his death, or exactly how relieved he was to be able to see Sam again.

Sam sighed, shaking his head at his brother's antics, but relaxing nonetheless. Before he could say anything, Dean enveloped him in a bear hug. As much as it surprised Sam, he returned the hug just as tightly. He'd be lying if he said that Dean's absence hadn't been eating him out. Sam had been about ready to go looking for Dean when he’d turned up.

"What's up?" Sam asked when Dean broke free.

"Nothing," Dean shrugged. However, Sam saw a small smile playing on his lips, right before he turned on his heels and walked to his room.

Dean laid on his bed for a long time looking up at the ceiling. He was exhausted, bone-crushingly tired, but sleep wouldn’t come. He couldn't get that sassy kid out of his head. This wasn’t the first time he'd discovered that his life always hung by a thread, but it had rankled him all the same. The girl had only made him realize what he was truly missing in his life. He was scared to admit it to himself, but if he’d ever wanted his own kid, it would be someone like her. If that had been the only thing, Dean would’ve just shrugged it off, rolled over and managed to find some sleep. But the real reason he couldn't stop thinking about Sam was because she reminded him so much of Y/N. That sass, the way she laughed was so much like the only woman he had truly loved.

"Y/N?" He called, making his way towards the crouched figure sitting on Pastor Jim's back porch. She was wearing a green blouse today, a jacket thrown over her shoulder in an attempt to hide her face. "Y/N?" He called out again. There was no reply still.

Dean couldn't help but remember the day when he had first seen her 4 years ago. She had been sitting in the exact same spot as today, resting her head on her knees the same way. He bent down and picked one of the violets that always grew around the corner of Pastor Jim's house, before making his way to her and perching lightly next to her.

She didn't show any signs of acknowledging his presence.

"What's wrong, Y/N/N?" He asked her softly. He knew she wouldn't open up unless she wanted to, but he also knew that he could get her to open up, if he wanted to.

"I'm tired of moving around," came her muffled noise from beneath the flurry of hair. "I was just starting to make friends there! And then I had to move all over again to this new town where I don't know anyone."

Dean sighed. He’d been having the exact same conversation with Sam so many times lately, that the words came out without him having to think them through. "It's because your dad is a hero. He's saving people out there. And come on, this isn't too bad, is it? It's fun, going new places, not having to clean up behind you."

It was a lie. Nothing about this was fun. Not the sense of homelessness, not the life on the road, and neither the chilling fear of not getting to see your dad again. So Dean only shook his head knowingly at the next words that came out of her mouth.

"Who are you kidding, Dean?" She looked up then. "What's nice about crappy motel rooms and stale burgers? You, at least, have Sam. But me? I'm all alone. I have no one. I got lost in that new town on my way back from school yesterday, and I had no one to go to because dad wasn't there. I was so scared!" Her voice had lowered to a panicked whisper.

"You have me!" The words slid out thoughtlessly, but they were true. He felt as responsible for Y/N as he felt for Sam. "I mean, you have us. We’re not going anywhere. You have my number, give me a call if anything like that happens again and we'll be there."

"What about John?" She sniffled, her eyes meeting his.

"What about him?"

"You can't drive a car yet."

"Legally," he shrugged.

"John will never lend you the Impala," you stated the obvious.

"Not yet," he smirked. "But I know how to steal a car."

"And that's illegal."

"When has that stopped a Winchester?" He wiggled his eyebrows, making her giggled.

Dean exhaled quietly. She needed to be happy. More than that, she deserved to be happy.

"Here," he said, handing her the violet. It was stupid, really. She knew where that flower came from and he knew that she knew it hadn't cost him a dime. But she always took it with this sweet little smile, like the violet meant so much to her. Over the years, it had become a tradition of sorts. He would always find her a violet, and she would always treat it like it was the most precious thing in the world. He had no idea what she did with all those flowers though.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember the day we first met?"

"Course," he smiled. It was funny how he had been thinking about that very day a while ago. "I promised I would never let anything happen to you."

"I know," she said, voice quieter still. "And I trust you." She paused for a second. "But I want you to make another promise."

"I promise." He said without batting an eye.

"You haven't even heard it yet." She smiled a little.

"Whatever it is, princess, it's yours," he smiled back reassuringly.

"Okay then. Promise me, you will always find me. The next time I get lost, whether or not I make that call, whether or not John lends you that Impala, you WILL find me. Please, I need to know that. I need to know that I'm not alone, that whatever happens, you will find a way to find me."

Dean was taken aback, not because of the words she had uttered, but because of the emotion underneath them. The trust there rattled him. "I-I promise, Y/N/N." He said. “I’ll always come find you, even if you don’t wanna be found.”

“Really?” She asked, her Y/E/C eyes round.

“Yep.”

Then she did something even more unexpected that the impulsive promise. She leaned against his side, her head resting against his shoulder, and let out a contented sigh. Together they watched the sun go down, and still stayed the same way till the stars twinkled brightly in the sky, counting the stars in their favorite constellations.

Dean woke up late the next day, so he wasn't surprised to find Sam in the kitchen eating his lunch, laptop propped open on the table in front of him.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Sam greeted him without taking his eyes off the screen.

Dean walked up to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of milk and grabbed the cornflakes from the top shelf before taking a seat opposite to Sam, who was so immersed in whatever he was reading that his hand had stopped midway to his mouth with a piece of celery dangling by the side of the fork.

"Eat the thing up first," Dean commented before pouring himself some breakfast.

"I think I found a case," Sam said, shoving his food away. "It's close by, I could make a check and be back before nightfall."

"No, no," Dean objected. It was gonna sound weird, but he wasn't going to let Sam go alone after his last hunt, specially not after his late night guilt trip down the memory lane. "You're not going solo, I'm coming with you."

"You just got back, Dean. You look burned."

"What's the case?" Dean asked, side stepping Sam's observation.

Sam sighed, but answered nevertheless, "It's a string of deaths two towns over. Four victims so far with no connection between them, except the witnesses swear up and down that she saw purple light flashing out of their eyes before they crumpled to the ground. The medical reports say, and I quote- The hearts were liquefied."

"That's weird."

"I'd say," Sam scoffed. "The last one happened today morning at the local high school. 9th Grade student Aaron Fletcher."

"So what’re we waiting for?" Dean asked, quickly getting up and heading to his room, before Sam could even suggest that he stay back.

The high school was a collection of double story buildings with sloping roofs and brick clad walls. It was sparsely spread, connected by narrow paved pathways. The place gave a weird sort of vibe.

"This is the reason I dropped out," Dean said, gesturing towards the buildings. "The place screams haunted." Sam rolled his eyes

They quickly found out that the only witness to the scene was a girl taking the same class. Of course the police weren't buying a word of her 'purple eyes' story, so she had been detained for questioning since the morning. The girl wasn't budging from her story, and the police weren't either, claiming that she was hostile and uncooperative. The woman at the desk eyed them and the fake FBI batches suspiciously before letting them in. They decided to split; Sam would go check out the scene of incidence, while Dean would talk to the witness.

By the time Dean made his way to the room where the girl was, a sense of foreboding settled over him. He sucked at handling kids, let alone teenage girls who had just witnessed a supernatural murder. It was Sam's job to make those eyes, and have people feel at home, not his. He should’ve let Sam do the talking.

Dean took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside the room. The place was mostly empty, except for 2 desks placed right in the middle. A young girl was sitting in front of one, with her head resting over her arms on the table in front. Her long dirty blonde hair cascading along her side. Maybe it was because Dean had been thinking about her, or maybe it was the fact that he just recognized the color too well, but he couldn't help the word that came out of his mouth-

"Sam?"

Her head snapped up, and a pair of alert green eyes met he own. They were puffy and red.

"Dean?" He couldn't be sure if the modulation in her voice was relief or suspicion. "What’re you doing here?"

"I'm with the FBI," he said, slowly walking over to her. Not in a million possibilities had he imagined that she would be the witness.

"You're a Fed?" She raised her eyebrows. Even tensed and frustrated, that girl had a mouth on her.

"It says so on the badge," Dean smirked, taking a seat next to her on the other bench.

"I guess you're here to laugh at my story, too," she snorted bitterly.

"Actually, I'm here to believe it," Dean told her.

"No one did, why would you?" She looked away.

"Because you trusted me yesterday, and I'm going to do the same," Dean said simply. He didn't know why it was so easy to talk to her. She looked like a girl who had trouble with the authorities, and that was something Dean understood all too well.

Sam gave him a hard look, before launching into a blabber. "I was walking behind Aaron, and he was talking to Lindsay about the trig test. She had to go to the bathroom… and the figure came and she just… and all the purple light… He die-d…" Her voice broke on the last word.

"Whoa, Shorty, calm down," Dean placated her. "Here," he said, handing her the glass of water that was already there, "Drink this, take a deep breath, and start from the start."

She did as he told her, gulping the water quickly, and the breathing heavily for a while before starting again. "Aaron used to be in my trig class, and after the first class ended we were walking towards the Lit building. He and his girlfriend Lindsay were walking ahead and they turned towards the washroom, where I was headed. Lindsay went in, and Aaron was waiting outside when this figure appeared almost out of nowhere."

"Figure?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," she said, desperate, like she was afraid Dean would stop believing her any moment now. "It was cloaked, so I don't know if it was a man or a woman. And that person touched Aaron… Like not exactly touched him, just brushed against him, pulled him a little closer, and then he was shaking like he was having a seizure of something. There was this bright purple light… It seemed to come from inside of him. It glowed through his eyes and fingertips for a while, and then he was dead."

"Just like that? What about that figure?"

"It disappeared the way it had come, ran away real fast." she cried, breaking down for the first time. "It's all my fault."

"No, it isn't," Dean disagreed gently.

"Yes, it is," she wailed, "If only I had gone after that thing instead of bending down and checking on Aaron. But I couldn't have just left him there, what if he had been alive?"

"Listen to me, you did the right thing. It doesn't seem like you would have been a match for that thing anyway."

"So you believe me?" She asked, her startling jade eyes round with surprise."

"Of course, I do," Dean patted her on the back. "I told you I would."

“Are you like the X-files?” Sam narrowed her eyes.

“Something like that, yeah,” Dean winked. “Just much cooler.” That made her snort.

Then she hesitated for a second before whispering, "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"There's something I didn't tell the police. I know they wouldn't’ve believed me."

"And what's that?"

"That hooded figure slipped something in Aaron's bag, a small pouch of sorts."

Frigging witches

Sam continued before he could get a word out- "I think it was a hex bag. I think the thing that killed Aaron is a witch." She got it out in one breath, as if she was pushing her luck by telling him that. The words spilled themselves out before she could give herself a chance to change her mind.

Dean's eyes widened in shock. He stared at her for a moment. How did she even know about hex bags and witches?

Sam misunderstood his silence and kicked the foot of the desk in frustration. "I shouldn't have told you. I knew you wouldn't believe."

It took another second for Dean to restart. "No… No, Sam, I believe you," Dean told her. He knew from the conviction in her voice that she wasn't throwing bogus assumptions in the air. She knew what she was talking about. "I think so, too. We might be dealing with a witch here."

"You believe me?" She repeated her words from earlier, only her tone was dubious now.

"I do," Dean said firmly. "If it's hex bags, it's definitely witches. How do you know about this stuff? Hunter's kid?" It didn't seem likely, though. He’d seen her house yesterday. The lawn was taken care of and the place looked like it belonged to someone who was settled there. Hunters don't live a life like that.

"My mom's superstitious. She told me stuff like this exists, you know monsters and witches and Vampires," She told him, oddly calm now, like she trusted him to not think that she was crazy. "What's a hunter?"

Dean figured it was someone who knew their way around the territory who raised her. Sam was smart, so she would have definitely remembered the traits of things that go bump in the night once someone told her.

"Nothing," Dean dismissed her quickly. "Your mom did a damn good job raising a kickass like you."

Sam smiled, and it made Dean feel so much better. Better than he should have felt about making a stranger smile.

"Yeah my mom's awesome," she said proudly. "I just wanna go home to her, but these idiots won't let me even make a call to my mom. They think I'm high and making stuff up. They made me pee in a cup." She said distastefully. Her outrage seemed to strike a chord within Dean. This was why he hated authorities; they didn't know shit and still hounded people who actually knew."

"Wanna get out?" He smirked.

"Hells yeah!" She jumped out of the seat with the speed of a lightning bolt, making Dean chuckle.

"C'mon, Shorty," Dean ushered her, feeling like a teen again, "We’re gonna break you out."

Getting her out of the classroom and the corridor was easy enough, but once they reached the foyer, one of the officers from the PD interrupted him. Dean made a show out of how it was unauthorized to detain a minor without parental permission and whisked her away before the guy could get two words out. Once they were out of his ear shot, both Sam and Dean made a run for it, and didn't stop till they were out of the campus, laughing so hard that their stomachs hurt.

"You. Are. Awesome!" Sam declared once they finally reached the parking lot.

"I've been told," Dean said, still trying to get over the laughter. "Hurry up, kiddo. Get home before they catch you."

"Thank you so much," she said sincerely. "You're the best! I owe you one, Deano." She looked like she wanted to say something more as she stepped ahead, her arms slightly outstretched. However, after a quiet moment, she turned on her heel and ran out, disappearing around the corner; but not before she had thrown Dean another grateful grin full of mischief.

It made Dean's day, and for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why.

Part 4 coming soon :)

I’m not tagging anymore blogs.

Because if I do, all of them stop working. If you wanna be notified, I’d suggest follow the blog @percywinchester27-writes and turn your notification on. I reblog all my stories on there.

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