#i just love writing about sam being scared and avoiding dean after soul survival

[touchstarvedsam]

Read on AO3 or read the fic under the cut.

Sam’s been spending less time in the bunker since curing Dean of being a demon. After unchaining him, he left the dungeon with a look on his face Dean never wants to see again. Dean’s seen Sam cry, he’s seen Sam completely broken and hurt. But he has never seen this look on Sam’s face before. Complete and total hopelessness, terror, and heartbreak. Not even after Jessica burned up on that ceiling did Sam look like that.

And Dean put that look there.

Dean broke Sam so totally and completely beyond repair.

He remembers the things he said, as a demon, because he remembers meaning them. But he doesn’t mean them now and he doesn’t know how to fix this.

Castiel had brought him food from the local diner after he was cured, said Sam placed the order and picked it up but couldn’t bring it to Dean himself. He’d told Cas he just needed time, and Dean will give him that, as much as it hurts having his little brother hide from him.

Sam ordered him a cheeseburger extra onion and double French fries, just like he likes, with two slices of apple pie for dessert. Even sad and scared, Sam will always think about Dean above himself.

He’d asked Cas if Sam got himself a salad like the health nerd he is. Cas just gave him a pitying smile, which told Dean everything he needed to know.

Now, almost a week since he was cured, Dean knows Sam hasn’t been eating enough, and that Sam spends a lot of time at the local bar outside Lebanon. It’s a couple steps down from a dive, but it has its share of rowdy drunks, a pool table for some good hustlin’, and bartenders that aren’t scared to kick you out on your ass. Dean would know.

And Sam has been there at least four nights this week.

It’s the fifth night that he hears the creak of the door open and slam shut that alerts Dean to Sam leaving again. It’s just after nine. Dean weighs his options and decides to follow Sam there but remain hidden; he’s gotten good at hiding since he got the mark of Cain.

He gives him an hour head start before heading over, driving through the lot to locate the car that Sam seems to take whenever he goes off alone, then parks in the back so Sam can’t find Baby and know that Dean came.

The bartender knows him, lets Dean take up a shadowed corner with a couple’a beers and hunker down to watch the show.

Sam seems to be two or three beers in; he’s swaying on his feet, cheeks flushed and hair a mess like he ran his fingers through it several times in frustration.

And he appears to be hustling, except the little shit is drunk and not just faking it to play the guys he’s hustling. If Sam does this every night without backup, Dean is going to kill him.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” one of the guys slurs, leaning too close to Sam for Dean’s liking. Dean never was fond of anyone touching Sam or calling him pet names. That’s Dean’s baby brother and Dean doesn’t play nice when it comes to Sammy. He watches as Sam visibly tenses – knows what’s making his brother uncomfortable – and steps back. “Oh, don’t be like that, pretty, you know you can’t win this, don’t ya? I’m givin’ you an out. Your arm’s broken, ain’t it?”

“No,” Sam replies, bumping the pool table in his haste to put more distance between them, grunting in pain at the contact. “Already told you… I lose an’ you take me for all the money I got, or you lose, and I take you for all the money you got – no more no less. I can beat you, sprained elbow or not.”

Dean smirks with pride. His brother may be drunk but he’s not stupid. Sam can play pool left handed or right handed. They trained themselves over the years how to use both hands in case their dominant hand becomes incapacitated somehow in the middle of a hunt. Always need a contingency plan when your life’s on the line.

“We’ll see about that,” the man growls, leering at Sam, eyes roaming his body up and down. That kind of scrutiny would have Dean wanting to shower and scrub himself raw; he can’t imagine how Sammy feels. “It’s prudes like you that beg for cock when it’s presented to them.”

That has Dean half standing, anticipating. He’s furious that anyone would say that to Sam. It has Dean’s skin crawling and the mark on his arm burning, begging for bloodshed. Dean wants to slit this man’s throat for even thinking of Sam that way. He wants to torture him and make him beg for Sam’s forgiveness.

He wants to bash his face in.

Sam shoves the guy’s shoulder and says, “Just play pool, man,” and Dean sits back down. The game resumes and Dean keeps a watchful eye as Sam fumbles his way through the game, drunk off his ass. Sam accepts drink after drink and Dean knows his little brother isn’t going to win this game with that much alcohol in his system, but he’s waiting until Sam actually needs help to step in.

“You’ve been alone for awhile, sugar. You waitin’ for someone?” a smooth woman’s voice says from his left. He looks up just as she’s sliding into the seat across from him and blocking his view of Sam and the guys he’s hustling. He needs to get her out of here fast.

“I’m just enjoying some time alone,” he replies, not trying to sound rude but wanting her gone.

Her smile is predatory when she asks, “Would you like some company?”

“I’m sorry, darlin’,” he tries to sound remorseful but misses by a mile as he leans slightly to the right to try to get an eye on Sam.

She must notice he’s distracted because she turns her body slightly to the left and cranes her neck to see what Dean is looking at before turning back to him. “That tall glass of water, huh? It’s always the gorgeous ones,” she says wistfully with a shake of her head and winks at him as she gets up from her chair. “If you strike out, I’ll be at the bar, sugar.”

It had to be less than a minute between the time she looked at Sam and then left the table, but by the time Dean’s view cleared, Sam and the guys at the pool table were gone. Dean almost knocked over his chair in his haste to get up and find Sam. It was barely 11, and the past week Sam hadn’t been coming home until well after midnight. Last call was 1:30 but Sam has always been the type to leave well before last call to avoid being “one of those people,” he’d say. His little brother was such a nerd.

Sam’s a grown man. 32 years old and 6’4”, he shouldn’t need Dean’s protection, but that will never stop the big brother side of Dean from protecting his little brother. And now, with this mark burning into his arm, Dean’s more protective than usual. More agitated, angry. He’s itching to make someone hurt, someone bleed, and if tonight it happens to be some guys Sam beat at pool then so be it.

He bypasses the pool table they were hanging at -- the  drink Sam had been drinking rests on the edge of the table, condensation leaving a ring on the lacquered wood finish -- and heads for the hall leading to the bathroom. He stops at the sound of voices in the middle of an argument.

“I told you, nothing more nothing less,” Sam’s voice carries down the hallway and Dean waits, wanting to give Sam the benefit of the doubt. He didn’t see how many of the guys followed but even inebriated he knows Sam can hold his own. It’s just the protective part inside him that wants to beat this guy’s face in for thinking he can get something from Sam.

“I might’a let you go if you didn’t hustle me an’ my boys for all we got,” the man replies huskily. There’s a thud and Sam grunts. It sets Dean’s teeth on edge and makes his hand twitch for a blade. He peers around the corner and sees that Sam’s pressed against the wall by the man he was playing when Dean got to the bar, the other two that had been hanging around the pool table watching them play were flanking the two of them. Dean could only make out Sam’s shaggy head of hair. “Now we’re gonna take it out on your ass for all we lost.”

Sam tries to shove at the guy’s shoulders, says, “Just because I can outplay you in pool with my arm in a sling doesn’t mean I cheated. You just lack skill.”

It’s Sam’s smart mouth that Dean both loves and hates. His baby brother can be a huge pain in the ass with his book intelligence, but sometimes he lacks severe street intelligence. He wonders how often this has happened before; he’s going to have to have a talk with Sammy after he saves his ass, literally.

He has half a mind to let these guys fuck with Sam a little bit to teach him a lesson; give himself a better excuse to beat them half to death for touching his brother.

He wants to be Sam’s savior and then punish him accordingly, both for running away from him and for putting himself in deliberate danger.

He’s going to punish Sam regardless.

“Get off’a me!” Sam shouts, trying to shove harder, but he’s outnumbered and while Sam is tall and strong, these guys have more muscle mass on him and they just laugh as Sam struggles against them, his arm in the sling cradled against his chest. He can’t use all his strength because of the damn sling and his hurt elbow.

Being bitten by a vampire while Sam watches crosses his mind and he feels less inclined to jump in just yet, wanting to see how this plays out. Sam had no soul, he reminds himself, but at the same time… Dean feels like he doesn’t have a soul right now, too. Just dark thoughts swirling around in his head about his little brother and pain.

“Aw, come on, pretty boy,” another one of the men taunts, gripping Sam’s chin and turning him to face him. “Don’t be a prude. You look like you’re desperate to get fucked. Just turn around and we’ll make you feel good, baby.”

“No!”

Hearing this sleazeball call Sammy “baby” is enough for Dean. He steps away from hiding just as they’re turning Sam to face the wall, fiddling with Sam’s belt buckle as his little brother squirms in their grip.

“Let him go,” Dean growls.

“Mind ya own business, pal.”

“I said,” Dean speaks slow, as if talking to a child who broke the rules, “Let,” he steps closer, “Him go.”

“Dean,” Sam says, voice quivering both in fear of the men trying to have their way with him and possibly at Dean himself. Sam hasn’t looked Dean in the eye since Dean was cured; he’s been ducking out of the bunker before Dean can emerge from his bedroom, or the bathroom. Dean had been longing to catch Sam in the library again, reading a book, happy and comfortable like he used to be. But as far as he knows, Sam stays in his room, or leaves the bunker altogether to run away from Dean.

That stops now.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says, “I’m here.”

“Listen, buddy,” the man that Sam beat speaks up again, “Find your own bitch, this one’s ours.”

Despite the burning of the mark, begging for Dean to slit the throats of these men, Dean actually laughs out loud. “You’re right,” he shrugs, a smirk growing on his face as he steps closer. “He is a bitch, but he’s my bitch, and I’m not going to let scumbags like you taint him.” He grabs the hair of the one who had grabbed Sam’s chin and yanks him away roughly. “If you don’t want to die today, let him go.”

“Alright, asshole--” The first guy releases Sam and lunges at Dean, who slams the guy he has by the hair face first into the wooden wall of the hallway next to the bathroom. He whirls around before the guy reaches him to throw a right hook into his chin, sending him flying back. The third guy releases Sam completely with a shout and lunges, too, but Sam sticks a foot back and trips him so he falls face first.

“Like I said,” Dean says with finality.

“Dean,” Sam repeats his name, looking at him fully. He still has fear showing in his face but Dean is just glad to hear his voice. “You--��

“Sammy,” he says softly, stepping over the man he knocked out with a right hook and pressing Sam back against the wall. He almost backs away when Sam’s beautiful hazel eyes flash with fear -- the last time he had Sam against a wall, he had a hammer and was going to kill Sam and Sam had a knife to his throat that Dean knew he wouldn’t use on him -- but he doesn’t. He holds his ground. “Sammy,” he repeats, raising a hand to caress his little brother’s alcohol flushed cheek. “I don’t want you doing this anymore.”

“Dean, I- I just needed time and--”

He doesn’t know why he does it -- actually, that’s a lie because he knows why he does it, he’s always wanted to do it -- but he leans in and kisses Sam, effectively quieting him. Sam gasps against his lips and accidentally grants access to Dean’s tongue. Dean holds Sam’s chin with one hand while the other trails downward and grips Sam’s hip to press it tightly to the wall, keeping him still. His hips follow soon after and press against Sam’s. He’s careful where they press together so he doesn’t put pressure on Sam’s hurt arm as he deepens the kiss.

Sam doesn’t fight. His free arm lifts up and he wraps his thin fingers into the collar of Dean’s shirt and pulls him closer. Dean smiles into the kiss before pulling away, says softly, “Come back home, Sammy,” and gives him another chaste kiss.

Sam goes home with him, riding shotgun in the Impala as he should. They’ll get the car Sam drove tomorrow. Tonight he’s going to punish Sam for running away, and then claim him like he should have done all those years ago.

[percywinchester27]

@caughtaghostsomehow reblogged your post ‘A lot like Us (Part-19)’ and added:

Oh man… Okay before I say anything else, I have to tell you that this Sunday thing is really worrisome. And don’t get me wrong, if my predictions are right and there’s a kid somewhere out there, obviously I’d be happy for Sam, he deserves all the happiness in the world. But an awful, selfish part of me dreads that this might be the case. Because if he has a kid with someone else… I don’t know how to put what I’m feeling into words, I’ll give it my best try. I know that she left on her own, she made that decision and has no right to Sam’s life now, not anymore than he has to hers. But after what happened… I just can’t help but feel like this would kind of break her heart, because she wanted this so much and she wanted it with Sam and she knows she can’t have it but if she ever learned that Sam has a kid with someone else I think it would open up a whole can of worms that she has refused to deal with for years and all the emotions would just spill out.

Okay.. Now that I got that off my chest I can gush.

There were a few moments there when I was worried he was going to tell her they’re still married but I know you were just trying to raise our blood pressure with those little hints 😂

I think I audibly said aww when he started backtracking on that coffee. Poor Sam, he’s still confused with how she feels. I can’t blame him though, she did leave without a word and then avoided him for the first week of college, I’d definitely be just as confused, if not more. But I’m glad they went. Sam is definitely gonna get drilled about his date later, poor lad 😂

I love how they can still see through one another so easily. You’ve done such a wonderful job showing just how strong that bond between them is even after all this time. It’s basically muscle memory for them, knowing how the other drinks their coffee, how they look when they’re deep in thought or uncomfortable, they can still notice the miniscule changes in each others’ expressions. They still notice those little things about one another even after all these years and honestly it’s kind of made me emotional. Knowing that things between them didn’t work out, not because the timing was wrong or they stopped loving each other, but because life has dealt them a losing hand. I’m glad to see them reconnecting but I think Sam noticed what we already know, she hasn’t dealt with her trauma. She buried it and she hasn’t as much as touched it since she left. I do hope she gets to experience the catharsis of letting all that bottled up pain and suffering go but I’m also scared for her once it happens. It’s been so long, I’m not sure what’s gonna happen to her when she finally addresses it.

I sorta thought that it would end up being awkward if they went out together but they proved me wrong once again. It’s like she’s ever only completely herself with Sam. It’s like she said, she doesn’t interact this way with anyone else. Sam knows her better than anyone and I think even though she was worried about how angry or hurt he was, she still found solace and comfort in his company. I can’t deny that things are very much different but there’s a familiarity between them, a sense of home that is so apparent when they’re together.

I got emotional along with her when Sam told her about Dean and Jo. To think how much she’s missed… And then Sam telling her he’s proud of her, oh gods, that was a punch to the gut. The fact that she literally didn’t have anyone this close to her, no family whatsoever in these past years… I’d go crazy. Crazy or completely numb. Maybe that’s how she survived this, she was already numb to begin with after the accident.. I don’t blame her for breaking down. Having someone tell you they’re proud of you and mean it after years of not being able to share your failures and successes with anyone who actually cares… Damn. It must’ve felt so good to hear him say these words.

I hope they’ll be able to interact as friends but I’m worried about the mean girls squad finding out about any of this cause they could get both of them kicked out if anyone saw them that fateful night.

I’m just gonna say, Jess and Sam’s wife?? That’s gonna be awkward as hell. And mostly for him.

(I’m not even gonna talk about that last little moment when he wanted to touch her face and probably kiss her goodbye cause my heart ain’t equipped to deal with that) I will say though, the fact that he can still make her laugh while she’s crying her eyes our? Top tier 👌❤

I loved the last little tidbit with Cas implying he saw everything that happened but he’s so lovely, he would never push her to talk about it.. Aaaand then pushing her into lava 😂. All of them playing together? Perfection. I want tha- no, I need that in my life 😂

And she’s happy… I think this is the first time in a long time when she actually means it.

Also, yes, me, I’m happy we’re finally getting some happy stuff!!!! 🖐🖐🖐

I loved this chapter, Ana, like I told you I would 😁 I’m also really loving that they’re getting longer, I’m always happy to see that I still have half the page left when I’m scrolling down, I can just sit back, relax and immerse myself in the story.

I’m already excited for the next chapters, it’s gonna be a blast. Love u ❤💜💙

Oh my goodness, Ria, you’re just the most wonderful person on the planet. You know that, right? Okay, since we’ve established that, we can move forward. About the Sunday thing, well, I can’t say much without spoiling stuff, but there are plenty clues in the past chapters that’ll make a lot more sense after the next chapter. I can tell you that the worst angst this series sees is in the past for us. You make pretty great estimates though ;)

Haha the thing about knowing you’re married is that you just don’t question it. I mean Sam had an out- the option of annulment- which he never took because he didn’t want to be free of the relationship. And there was no way the reader could have divorced or got an annulment without meeting Sam. So he knows they’re married and believes with absolute certainty that the reader knows it, too. Why bring it up if she’s in denial?

It’s sweet in a very painful way, right? That they’re so familiar with each other, still? You are so good at predicting emotions, though! Like perfectly on point about how the reader would react to certain situations, so much that I feel you’re in my head ;)

I mean you’re right on the ‘Sam knows her best’ part. She basically put herself in a bubble right? So most of her personality before that is still intact. Suppressed, but she is slowly finding herself. It’s Sam who’s been up and down a lot, who had to struggle to keep himself in tact. Besides, knowing somebody entails knowing their past as well, right? So who better than Sam? And that numbing probably did protect her mind from a lot of trauma. 

The girl gang is not the best, yeah! In their own way, I feel like those three are either selfish or self-centred or both. And as far as Jess is concerned, I had a lot of fun writing her. She brings with her one essential jigsaw piece of Sam’s life. It’s actually something you’ve addressed :)

Thank you thank you for all of this. I just... I’ve said this before, but writers do be selling their souls out there for reblogs like this one. You are the BEST! I love you so much!

[plaidstiel-wormstache]

Turns of Fate

This one is for @whispersandwhiskerburn‘s 2k Challenge. I’m sorry it took me so bloody long, and I’m sorry you had to work the lyrics in. I wouldn’t be able to write creatively if I didn’t know you were there to help me. Thank you dearest Beta, you are heaven on earth to work with.

Quote: If you could go back and do it over again, would you? (in bold) Song: Little Wonders by Rob Thomas (in bold) Warnings: angst, smidge of fluff, supernatural violence, mentions of family distress Word Count: 2,844 Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks. Feedback makes the world go round, so help this little lady’s day by leaving a reply, reblogging with a gif or even a full blow comment! Let me know if you loved it or hated it. Please?

“If you could go back and do it all over again, would you?” It was such a simple question, and it had such a simple answer. Yes. But … I didn't like dying. I didn't like having to leave my boys and sister. I wanted to live the rest of my life with Dean Winchester. I wanted to one day call Sam my brother-in-law. I wanted to have little Winchesters and grow old. I wanted to die knowing that Dean wanted all that too.

I placed the opened beers in front of the boys and took my seat across the table from them. Dean picked up his and took a swig, the action so familiar that he barely paused his argument. “No, I'm offering myself and you can’t stop me.” Sam opened his mouth to protest, “Sam, I’m not letting you go through that. If someone's going face to face with a hound, it's gonna be me.” Dean finished, silencing Sam with the squeal of his chair legs across the concrete. Gripping his beer, he stalked out of the room. Sam picked up his and pretty much finished it in one large gulp.

“I gotta tell you guys something, and you’re not gonna like it.” I’d started, Dean’s shoulders visibly sagged and Sam took a step forwards, his eyes roaming over me, thinking it was something physically wrong. I gestured at the table in the war room and we all sat, the boys across from me. “You’ve got our attention.” Dean broke the silence making me look up from my hands, where I was studying the small scar along the back. “Years ago, before I met you two, something happened and…” I was there again, struggling to breathe in the family room of the hospital. My sister lying on a bed in a coma, no promise of ever coming out of it. She was all I had left and the Doctor’s were telling me there was nothing they could do, I had to pull the plug, “it was the kindest thing”. I shook my head, trying to clear the past from my mind. “Y/N?” Sam questioned, pulling me back to the present. I took a deep breath and continued. “I made a deal, and I’ve got a week left.” It took a moment, but their reactions were predictable: Dean flew off the handle, and Sam’s head collapsed into his hands. “You what?! Why wouldn’t you tell us before? We can get you out of this. You’re not dying for a stupid deal.” Dean had pulled out his phone and had started flicking through contacts. I struggled to keep my voice level, trying to remember why I decided to tell them finally. “It wasn’t a stupid deal, Dean. Don’t you think I knew what I was signing on for?” “Why?” Sam’s question was quiet and almost went unnoticed between the older Winchester’s raised voice and mine. “Why what?” Dean snapped at his younger brother while holding the phone to his ear, standing and pacing. “Why did you make the deal, YN?” He had asked. I gritted my teeth, my nostrils flaring as I took a steadying breath. “My parents and sister were in a car crash. They died immediately, but she managed to survive. And for a day it looked like she got away with a few broken bones. Then they discovered she had a bleed in her brain and…” I swallowed around the thick ball of emotions that seemed to have attached itself to my tonsils, wiping viciously at the tears that threatened to fall. “She slipped into a coma. They operated, but she never woke up. They were telling me to pull the plug. I had to get her back. I couldn’t lose her too.” I studied the scar on the back of my hand again, avoiding the heavy gaze of Sam Winchester, listening as Dean sprang into action. “Crowley, get your ass here now. The Bunker.” Dean demanded into the phone then hung up. “I’m the King of Hell, you can’t just order me about.” Crowley’s quiet voice was sarcastic and angry after suddenly appearing at the foot of the table. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Dean spat. “It can’t ever just be for a good time.” The king muttered, and Dean began to vibrate with anger. “Fine. I didn’t tell you because it wasn’t your business. I don’t kiss and tell.” He explained, winking at me, receiving a sneer in return. “You need to cancel the deal with Y/N.” Dean ground out between clenched teeth. “No can do.” Crowley sat down at the head of the table, pulling his overcoat out from underneath him, getting comfortable as Dean clearly became more agitated. “Why not?” Dean argued. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold, a business to run, and I’m owed a soul. I kept my part of the bargain.” Crowley was beginning to get bored; he was clearly over this visit already. “A soul? Any soul?” Sam asked, finally looking away from me to turn his attention to the demon. Both Dean and I cottoned on to his way of thinking quickly. “No, Sam, you’re not sacrificing yourself-” I started. “Doesn’t have to be YN’s soul?” Dean questioned, following Sam’s train of thought. “One soul to fulfill the deal.” Crowley said before vanishing. And with that, the debate had started.

They’d been trying to hash it out for hours. How did they get me out of my deal? Dean planned to sacrifice himself, and if I knew the boys at all, Sam would try and beat him to it. Well those boys needed each other. I'd lost my family years back and come to terms with my deal. There was no way I was going to stand by and let one of the brothers take the heat for me. They had each other--they needed each other. “Here.” I said, passing Sam my half empty beer as I stood up. He raised his eyebrows and I nodded, I didn't want to finish it. I couldn't. I watched as Sam finished it in two large gulps. “We’re not letting him do this, YNN, don't worry. Dean’s not going anywhere.” Sam misread my staring as concern, but I was simply waiting. Sam stood and I met him at the head of the table, hugging him tightly as he wrapped his arms around me. He began to sag, he was damned heavy, but I held up his weight. “Whass happenenn…” Sam slurred, his arms dropping from my back and hanging at his sides. “Easy there,” I whispered, helping him as his legs collapsed from under him. I tried my best to lay him down slowly and without hurting him. “YNN, wha haff you…” I rested his head on the concrete and shed my hoodie, bundling it and placing it under his heavy head. “It’ll be alright, Sammy. Dean’s not going anywhere.” I repeated his words back to him. I saw his brain working and then the realization, his eyes tried to go wide as his lids sagged and finally closed. He’d managed to grip my hand on his way down and it was still firm. I squeezed his hand and leant forward, kissing his forehead, before prying his fingers open and releasing myself.

...

“Dean?” I whispered into the dark room. “Yeah, YN?” Dean responded, I was surprised to find him still awake, but I hadn't really been sure of the amounts to give. How much would take down a Winchester? I’d given Sam the extra in my bottle, just because he was such a moose, but Dean… “Can I come in?” I asked, opening the door further to see him lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “Of course, I wanted to talk to you.” He added while pushing himself up. He looked tired, maybe the drug was slowly taking hold. “Oh?” I moved into the room and sat on the end of the bed, opposite the man I secretly loved. “Yeah.” He swallowed thickly and tried to raise a hand but thought better of it and placed it back under his tipping weight. “I wanted to say I'm sorry.” He said, his words were coming out heavier than they usually did when he drank. It was definitely the drug, and I was kicking myself that it wouldn't just give us five more minutes. “Sorry for what?” Dean needed to stop being cryptic--our time was quickly running out. “Sorry that I’ve never told you…” Dean took a deep breath and held out his hand to me. I took it willingly, but before I could question him he pulled me toward him. I landed on his chest and we both tipped back, his head almost bouncing as it landed on the pillow, my own quite near his. “YNN…” Dean slurred, his eyes were staring at my lips, half hooded and not quite focused. I closed the distance and kissed him. Just a peck before I pulled back and looked at him. He was still for a moment, I began to think it wasn’t what he wanted at all, but then he leaned forward and his lips were on mine once again. Our mouths fitted together like they'd found home; I ran my tongue along his bottom lip and his crept out to meet mine. They twirled and teased for half a second before his grew heavy and turned into just a wet muscle intruding in my space. I pulled back and planted a kiss to his slowly closing mouth. He was out. “I love you, Dean Winchester.” I whispered close to his ear before pressing my lips against his once more. I pulled together all my strength and willed myself out Dean’s door. I grabbed my keys and tugged on my jacket as I climbed the steel steps to the main door of the bunker. I looked around the place I called home and patted the wall as I pushed the door open, knowing all of my regret would wash away somehow, and that the hardest part was over. But as that metal door locked shut behind me, I also knew that I could not forget the way I felt right now.

...

I stuck the keys in the ignition of the beat up buggy and stuttered it to life. The radio blared from the last time I had been driving, scaring the living daylights outta me. But as I turned it down, I caught the lyrics of a song long forgotten. The tune was so appropriate, I had to laugh. Our lives are made, in these small hours. These little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours still remain. Very few hours, small or otherwise, remained for me. I drove the length of the dirt road to where it intersected the small farm lane. I pulled over to the side of the road and took the trowel from the trunk, tucking the small metal box under my arm. I dropped to my knees in the middle of the cross roads and pushed the spade into the dirt. “Don't dirty yourself, love.” Crowley growled above me. I looked up at the man in the black coat and put the box down, dropping the trowel and pushing myself to standing. “How'd you know?” I asked, making sure there was a safe distance between us. “Let's just say it was a slow night.” He winked, making me feel uneasy. I looked him over, sniffing once and then dusting my hands on my jeans. “I wanna change our deal.” I said. “Really? I thought this was a dinner date.” His tone dripped sarcasm and I had to take a deep breath to steady my anger. “Come on, darling. Begging isn’t attractive on you, and we both already know you have no hand to play.” “I want you to sic the hound on me.  Sooner rather than later.” There it was, out in the open. “And why would I do that?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, the padded shoulders of his coat raising level to his chin. I had thought on that question, and I had several arguments in place: we both knew it was a never ending battle if one of the boys took my place, we both knew the angels were invested in the Winchesters and they’d wage war again to get them out, and we both knew he wanted them alive and saving the world so he could keep making his deals. “Because if it goes down any other way, I’ll devote the rest of my life to destroying you. And you’ve seen me in action.” The King of Hell weighed that for a moment, his teeth grinding, his jaw muscles rippling under the scruff on his face. He snorted a chuckle and raised a hand, clicking his fingers.

...

The impala made the gravel crackle under its wheels as it came to a stop. The boys jumped out and began towards me before they saw my whole body jump with the force of something pounding at the closed factory doors at my back. “Is that the hound?” Sam called, quickly coming towards me to help hold it off until I held up a hand. Dean went for his gun, “I thought we had a week!” “Stop! It wants me.” I yelled to them. Truth be told I’d been waiting for them to track my phone and find me, holding off the hound to have one last goodbye. I wasn't ready to die without seeing them one more time. “What have you done?” Dean yelled over the growling. “Oh, you're just annoyed I beat you to it.” I joked back. In all honesty I was terrified, holding this demon dog at bay was tough enough, but it was worth it to know Dean and Sam would come out of this alive. “Y/N, why?” Sam groaned, his shoulders sagging where he'd frozen. “Cause you two need each other.” I gave Sam a sad smile, committing his eyes to memory, that friendly hazel would get me through years on the rack. Then I turned my attention to Dean, his look of anger became desperate as he read the resolution in my eyes. “Y/N, please…” “I love you both.” I had meant to call it out to them, make sure they heard it, but it came out as a cracked whisper. I took a step forward and turned around as the doors flung open. Even though she was terrifying and hideous, there was a certain beauty to this hellish beast. I held my arms wide and welcomed the promise of death. Her paws landed on my chest, pushing me to the ground hard enough to knock the breath from me. I clenched my teeth and moaned against the first claw, but I made sure not to scream. That, I was most proud of. My boys might have the memory of seeing it happen, but they wouldn't be haunted by my screams.

When you die it all goes black for a moment. Like you've clenched your eyes shut and then finally opened them. Time falls away and for a moment, all your troubles fall behind you. But when I opened them I was standing over my body, a brunette woman standing next to me. “I’m dead?” I asked. She nodded, looking toward the Winchester’s who were still standing at a distance. Though Sam seemed to be holding Dean back. I could see the hellhound backing off from my lifeless form, I could see Sam’s hesitation as he looked around. “What happened?” The woman asked, finally turning back to me. “What?” The question caught me by surprise. “Well…” she smiled, “I was expecting Dean.” She explained. “I made the deal.” I shrugged, watching as the two boys finally raced toward my body, Dean pulling me into his arms. I couldn't watch any more and turned my back to it. “Sorry.” The woman said, drawing my attention back to her. “For what? Being the delivery woman? I’m the one who made the deal. I know where I’m headed” “It ain’t gonna be much fun.” She seemed kind, consoling even. Truth be told, I didn’t mind, not when the boys were scratch free and still breathing. “Well… we best be going then.” She turned from my body and started towards the factory. As we reached the door she stopped me and turned to face me. “If you could go back and do it all over again, would you?” She asked, almost like it was a box she needed to tick. I glanced back at the scene behind me. “Yes. It was just the twists and turns of fate. And honestly, my life was full of little wonders.” I thought of Sam’s eyes, Dean’s smile, the taste of his lips...laughing with them between cases...walking my baby sister down the aisle and watching her marry a good man--flashes of my life that made the rest worth it. These small hours still remain.

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