#john winchester daughter

[winniewritesstories]

And Then There Were Three | Meg Winchester #1

Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.

Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Meg Winchester (OC)

Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter

Warnings - Mild cursing, John Winchester

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 3096

Notes - This is the first instalment in a series of one shots and headcanons about my OC Meg! Please be kind <3

Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.

Dean Winchester was strong.

 And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby. 

It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed. 

The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother. 

But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free. 

But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.

He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.

The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.

"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.

"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.

"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"

"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.

"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"

"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"

"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"

"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."

"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."

Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."

"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."

"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).

As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.

 The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.

"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.

"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.

John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.

"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?

"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."

This time John did drop his beer.

The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.

He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.

In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.

"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.

"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.

"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."

"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.

"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?

"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.

"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."

Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.

"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.

"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."

"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."

"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.

"What?" Dean asked incredulously.

"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.

"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.

"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "

"We're her family! The three of us."

"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.

"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"

"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"

"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"

"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."

Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.

He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.

But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.

John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.

The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.

"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.

"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.

"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.

"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.

Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.

"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."

"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile."

"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."

"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.

"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."

John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."

"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"

"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?

Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."

It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.

"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."

Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."

Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.

Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.

John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.

Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.

Dean Winchester was strong.

But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?

The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.

And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.

He's Dean Winchester.

Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it <3

[virtu4l-di4ry]

from dean’s perspective “i need you’ is bigger than “i love you”. love is complicated but it’s direct, he could love someone without having them in his life. but need? dean “mr. dependent, guarded walls up so high, emotionally unavailable” winchester needing someone? thats huge. to need means to give them control. to need means i cant do this without you. love comes easy to dean but to genuinely need something and be selfish enough to ask for it? that goes against everything he’s been conditioned into believing.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Old Blood, New Family

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

A/N: I set this during season 5 episode 16, the episode where the boys are in heaven reliving memories, and the sister is with them.

Requested by Anonymous

“Just keep going down the road, I guess,” Dean said. “We’ve gotta hit the end eventually.”

“Where are we?” Sam began to look around in bewilderment as the road turned into more of a tree-lined path.

“I know these woods,” you muttered to yourself. “But this…this can’t be right. This wouldn’t be in heaven.” You pushed through the trees, and it took the boys a moment to realize that you were straying away from them.

“Hey, wait!” Dean called after you, and both boys ran to catch up. “Whoa!” Dean staggered back in surprise when he caught up and got a good look at you.

“What?” You asked, frowning at him.

“You…don’t look like you,” Sam said.

You looked down, taking stock of yourself. You were a lot shorter suddenly, your body thinner and covered in bruises.

“Kid—“ Dean’s voice was low and gravelly, his eyes flashing with anger when he saw his baby sister hurt. “Where are we?”

“It’s—um—“ you had slowed down, your whole body tensing with every movement of the trees. “We’re close to my mom’s house.”

Dean grit his teeth—John had told Dean that he’d gotten you out of a rough home life, but Dean had never seen you banged up like this before—there was barely any skin showing that wasn’t bruised or cut, and you looked like you hadn’t eaten in days. Your hair was matted and greasy, like you hadn’t been allowed to shower—it wasn’t like you not to take care of yourself if you had the ability.

“Maybe it’s my heaven,” Dean spit out, his fist clenching. “Because I’d love nothing more than to beat the crap out of whoever’s in that house.” Dean jutted his chin out towards a house in the distance—your house.

“It’s memories,” Sam reminded him gently, although he didn’t look any less angry. He masked it quicker, however, and turned to you. “Let’s just keep walking—we don’t have to stick around here.”

“I just—I don’t know why this would be in my heaven,” you babbled. “I mean I-I never wanted to see this place again, and I thought that—“

“Hey.” Sam put his hands on your shoulders, snatching your attention. “It’s ok, forget about it. This whole place seems pretty screwy, let’s just go.”

“No no no.” You flinched away from the brothers when an angry voice yelled your name through the trees. Your body went into autopilot, sending you to the one place where you could feel safe. The boys tripped over roots and bushes as the struggled to keep up with you while you dashed and ducked through the woods, coming to rest only when you’d reached your haven.

A huge root from a towering oak tree created a wooden shield that you ducked behind, huddled among the leaves as you caught your breath.

“She’s coming she’s coming she’s coming,” you whimpered, rocking back and forth as you struggled to breathe.

“Hey, hey,” Dean soothed. “Kid, she’s not gonna touch you, I promise. She’s never gonna hurt you again, we won’t let her.”

“You can’t touch her,” you whimpered. “It’s my memory, remember? You-you can’t do anything.”

“I—“ Dean swallowed. You were right.

“What’s that?” Sam’s head shot up. “Did you hear that?”

“She’s coming,” you sobbed, burying your head in your knees.

“No, no, not her voice,” Sam insisted. “It’s—“

There was another voice calling out your name in the distance—a man’s voice.

When you heard it, your head popped up.

“Wait, I…I remember this,” you said, wiping your tears as your breath slowly got stronger. “She brought a man home again,” you breathed, glancing through the trees trying to see the source of the voice. “I-I had thought it was just another drunk one-night stand, so I ran for here. But-but when he found me…”

“There you are.” Your explanation was cut off by the appearance of John Winchester stepping around a tree. “Easy.” John held his hands up innocently. “I wasn’t tryna scare you there.” John took in the little nook you’d hidden yourself in. “I won’t tell your mom about this little hiding spot, I swear. I just wanted to talk to you. I…I don’t know what your mom has said about me, but I…I’m your dad, kid.”

You didn’t say anything; you just stared up at the man.

“Your mom, she…she didn’t want me to meet you,” John went on. “I had a bad feeling about that.” John took in your battered appearance. “It’s because she hurts you, right?”

You nodded timidly, remaining silent. The brothers just watched, unable to find the words; dad had never told them exactly how he’d gotten you, and they’d never imagined it would be this bad.

You flinched hard when your mother’s voice rang out again, closer.

“Hey, it’s ok,” John soothed. “I’m not gonna let her hurt you. Look, I know you don’t know or trust me, but I wanna help you. Nobody deserves to be treated the way your mom treats you. Now I can’t exactly go to the cops about this, because they’re gonna have a lot of questions about me that I can’t answer. So I need you to make a choice right now.” John placed his hand on your cheek, his touch feather light. You leaned into subconsciously—no one had ever been that gentle with you before. “You gotta choose,” John continued. “If you wanna stay here with your mom…or come with me.”

You swallowed hard, gaping up at John.

“My life’s not easy,” he added. “I move around a lot—I’ve got two boys, they’re a lot older than you, and I can’t promise you’ll always be safe, but…but I can promise that I’ll never hit you like she does.” John swallowed. “What’s it gonna be, kiddo?”

You stared up at John for a long moment, his rough but gentle hand still on your cheek. His soft eyes bore into yours, and he never once looked away, even as your mother’s voice got closer.

You threw yourself into John’s arms, almost knocking him off balance.

“Please take me away,” you whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes. “Dad, please take me with you.”

John’s arms tightened around you as he cradled your head in his hands.

“I’ll take you home, kiddo,” he breathed. “I’ll take you home, I promise.”

Dean noticed when the memory of John began to fade, and he rushed to take his father’s place, taking you in his arms as you started to cry.

“I’ve got you,” he promised. “Sweetheart I’m right here, I got you.”

The woods had faded away, along with John and your mother’s voice and the bruises on your body.

“That was the first time I ever felt safe.” Your voice was muffled against Dean’s shirt as you refused to let go of him. “Dad saved me.”

“I know,” Dean said. “I know, kiddo.”

“We—“ Sam swallowed. “We have to keep going.”

“I’m ok,” you sniffled, finally pulling away from Dean, but still gripping his hand in yours. “I’m—I just…seeing him again…”

“Hey—“ Sam pulled you away from Dean long enough to wrap his arms around you. “I know, I know. I’m so sorry, I never knew…what it was like before he found you.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Your smile—albeit faint—was finally returning as you looked up at your brothers. “You guys are my real family.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely

[lunajay33]

Mothers Daughter🕊️

Summary: Being the youngest of the winchesters had its ups and downs, but being the only girl made you miss out on a female figure, so the only thing you can do is ask the men around you about your mother

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lil sister, Sam Winchester x lil sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

You never got to meet you mother she died 6 months after you were born, well when you and Sam were born, he was older than you by 5 minutes and still treated you like his little sister but you couldn’t ask for 2 better bigger brothers, they were always there for you and made sure you were okay

Being the youngest and only girl in the family it got hard sometimes, when you were little it wasn’t as big of a deal, John treated you like his little girl and loved you dearly always reminding you that you looked like Mary, your brothers treating you like a princess and let you play with dolls, but as you got older and you got more woman problems it was hard to handle since there was no motherly figure to turn too

You woke up in the motel you were currently staying at with John, Sam and Dean, late at night you got up feeling groggy and your stomach aching so bad, nothing like you’ve ever felt before, you got to the bathroom looking in the mirror seeing how pale you had gotten, thinking maybe it was just something you ate you went to use the washroom but when you pulled down your pants all you see is blood and you panic

You pull your pants back up dropping to the ground when another wave of pain hits your lower stomach

“DADDY!” You scream out scared you might be serious sick

He runs in frantic looking around for danger, probably thinking something supernatural was out to get you, he kneeled infront of you brushing your hair back

“Baby what’s wrong?”

“Somethings wrong, I’m bleeding a lot and….and it hurts so bad” you say breathing heavy just wishing for him to take you pain away

“Oh princess, it’s your period every woman goes through it, I’ll run out and get you some pads and pain killers, drink some water I’ll be right back”

When he left Sam and Dean came and sat with you on the bathroom floor, doing everything they could to comfort you, but you were still confused on what was happening

That happened when you were 14 and after John explained to you what a period was you felt so different from your brothers, every month you had to go through pain while they carried on with hunting, having to go through bouts of random emotions was irritating but what was worse was having your body change and not knowing what to do

“Damn sis your legs are just about as hairy as mine” Dean laughed as we were all sat around in another motel, you felt so embarrassed covering your legs under the blankets

“Dean enough” John said as he saw your bottom lip tremble

“Daddy I don’t understand why do I have to change like this my legs are hairy and my boobs are getting bigger and I don’t feel comfortable”

“Come on princess I’ll take you shopping”

He took you to a drug store find a training bra that fit comfortably and some razors, the drive home was a little quiet

“I’m sorry daddy, I don’t mean to inconvenience you I know you have a lot on your plate right now with this werewolf case”

“It’s not your fault, and you’re not an inconvenience, just wish your mother was here to help guide you on this”

Your mother was a sore topic for the family which is all the more reason you wish you knew her, they barely talk about her

You got back to the motel room and Sam was already asleep but Dean was up watching tv still, John got ready for bed while you sat at the little table working on some homework Dean coming to sit with you, he was 19 so he didn’t have to do any schooling anymore

“Dean can I ask you something?” You sighed putting your pencil down

“Sure kid, what’s got your little head worrying?”

“Do you….i mean I never knew her but…..do you like mom would have liked me?”

He looked surprised not expecting that question, you saw John come out of the washroom seeing Dean expression and your nervous state

“What’s going on?”

“She…..she asked if mom would have liked her”

You were scared that he was going to yell at you, but you were just so desperate to have a mom or even a older strong woman figure to look up to

“Daddy I’m sorry I just…..I feel so different and you always say I remind you of mom, I just miss someone I never knew and it hurts”

“I’m not made princess, I’m sorry you and the boys don’t have your mother but I’m trying my best, and your mother would have loved you, I remember when she found out she was having twins she was so excited and when you were born and we saw you were a little girl she always said she felt this connection with you, how she’d cradle you and you’d immediately relax against her, she had so much planned for you Angel, she told me to wait till your 16th birthday to give you this but it’s close enough” he got up rummaging through his bag pulling out a little box

You opened it to see a silver necklace with a protection charm, just like the one John had tattooed

“I love it, thank you, I hope where ever she is she’s proud of me”

“Hey kid, we’re all proud of you” Dean smiled helping you put the necklace on

“She couldn’t have left me with better protectors, I love all three of you”

“Love you too princess, forever”

You were 22 now and on a run with all three Winchester boys, you had just finished getting the colt back from some vampires and trying to make a game plan so that John would accept you help, Sammy was driving and you and Dean were in the back

“Daddy please just take a break for a second, let us help I…….i miss you” bright lights burned you eyes before everything crashed and everything went black

You opened your eyes to see you were in a field full of flowers, not a worry in the world just the calming feeling of wind in your hair, bees buzzing by, no vampires or demons or anything just peace, then a woman in white appeared next to you

“You’re so beautiful” she smiled brushing your hair back

“Who are you?”

“I’m your mother dear, don’t tell me those boys haven’t showed you a picture of me” you shook your head but then you realized what she said, your mother was sitting next to you

“Mom…..it’s you!” You wrapped your arms around her feeling her warmth that you craved for

“But if it’s really you then…..am I dead?” You asked scared

“You got in a crash, the boys are waiting for you back there but if you want you can stay with me, we can be happy just mother and daughter, you can stay with me”

“But I haven’t lived yet, I don’t wanna leave Sammy or Dean and I can’t leave dad like that, I just got him back”

“It’s your choice baby, but either way I’m always with you” she said pointing at my necklace

A bright light above stung your eyes slowly coming into focus, seeing everyone surrounding you bed

“There she is, god sis you terrified us” Sam said wrapping his arms around you

“Princess why are you crying?” John asked worried your in pain

“I saw her” you whispered still in shock

“I think she still got drugs in her system” Dean laughed

“No I saw her, it was mom” everyone went still

“She said I could stay with her, wherever I was it was peaceful and free of evil but….i had to come back I just got you back dad and I can’t just leave my brothers you’ll tear eachother apart without me here” you smile

“I ain’t leaving anytime soon baby girl”

You went to sit up but pain shot through your body

“Good driving Sam, how is it you all look like you got in a little bar fight and I’m the one in this hospital bed…….any serious damage?”

“Doc said you got a concussion, broken rib and some nasty cuts on your face”

“But I’ll be okay?”

“We won’t let anything happen to you, never again”

Requests are open for supernatural or the walking dead:)🩶

[castiwls]

brother, brother - d.w

Paring; dean & sister!reader

Synopsis; John Winchester was never a great father but where he failed someone else stepped up

Warnings; none

Notes; this has been sitting in my drafts for ages omg

masterlist

You smiled at your brother as he appeared beside you, beers in hand. He passed one to you as he took a seat on the bonnet beside you. “Thanks.” You smiled before taking a sip. Your brother nodded before taking a sip of his own drink. 

“Remember how dad flipped the first time dad caught you drinking? Man, I think I saw fire in his eyes.” Your brother chuckled turning his head to take at you. “Oh yeah. I think that was the first time I ever faced his wrath.” You joked bumping shoulders with him. “I think I was too drunk to truly care to be completely honest.”

“You were a mess. I spent most of that night awake in case you were sick.” He shook his head. “Then you actually were sick.” He rolled his eyes. You grimaced slightly. “Please don’t remind me,” You took another sip. “Being sick on the floor in front of my younger brother was bad enough. I think I traumatised Sam that day.” 

Dean laughed. “Traumatised Sam!? It was me who had to clean it up, missy.” He exclaimed. “And I was very thankful you did.” You joked before looking out into the empty field. 

Your childhood was a touchy subject. Something which all three of you chose not to talk about unless necessary. Growing up you’d always known that your home life was less than normal, that your dad never acted in the way you saw dad’s on the TV act.

As you’d grown up you’d simply come to the conclusion that maybe John Winchester was never meant to be a dad, sure for the first two years of your life he’d played the part but even then you knew it wasn’t perfect. 

“You look like you're thinking quite hard there, you okay?” Dean bumped his shoulder with you drawing you back into the present. “I’m fine, just thinking…” You trailed off looking down at the drink in your hands. You felt your brother wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer.

You both fell back into a comfortable silence for a moment before you turned your head to face him “You were more of a father to me than he ever was,” You smiled at your brother “Just so you know.”

Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on top of yours.

[ellieslittleburrow]

Summary : John Winchester, your father, is protective of you

Warnings : swearing and cute John

A/N : should we write more John Winchester?

-----

John Winchester, a man of many flaws. Sammy can attest to that, he suffered the most from John's decisions. Dean would stand against that, he's been John's boy since the day he was born. Dad this, dad that; That doesn't mean it isn't complicated, though.

You on the other hand.....umm....not suuuure where you stand really, where do you stand?

Everything felt different for you with John. Everything. His love for you was established since the beginning. He got a spark in his eyes whenever you were around that neither of his two boys ever got the chance to see, even Dean.

You were his baby girl.

There were the times where he stood up for you. The bullies??? Never stood a chance. There was that one time in particular when you got h-

"Hey! What did i tell you about slamming doors?" A scolding growl sounded, one that would usually....send shivers down your spine. This time it left you unbothered, or maybe fueled your anger even more.

In an attempt to not cry in front of the Great Winchester, you hurried to the bed assigned to you and threw yourself into a sleeping position, your back facing him.

"HEY" his growl grew angrier and you just hugged yourself. You didn't need him exploding your eardrums on top of everything else that had happened that day. His steps closed in on you and soon enough, your waist was gently being pulled back- you were facing him.

As his eyes navigated around your face, his features simultaniously softened. The creases shaped by the frown on your eyebrows, the sucked in lower lip, the damp eyelashes, all signs of-

"You were crying?" A stupid question that John needed no answer to. He somehow knew why, too. But he asked anyway. "Was it the kids at school?"

With that-you force yourself back on your side. "I told you not to force me into a new school."

Your mumble is muffled but John already knew what you were going to say-you've had this conversation many a times before.

"Come on" Your father tapped your butt before heading towards the door. And your curiosity itched your brain and you turned around, sitting up.

"Where are you going?" You asked and he glanced at you over his own shoulder, a mischivious smile embellishing his face.

"Just get your ass up."

Over in the car, John turned to you. "Do you know where this kid lives?"

You took your damn time to respond, both of you will get into trouble buuuuuuut.... A smirk ghosted your lips. "Yeaaaah?"

"Good, that saves us a lot of time."

You nervously chuckled. "A lot of time for what, dad?" The Impala roared as silence followed your question. You sort of understood. And as you directed him towards the bully's house, your stomach tightened in a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

"Right there, the Cayenne, his father's." You pointed at the car and your dad shamelessly parked his own only a few couples of meters away.

Another nervous chuckle left your lips as your head popped forward. Your eyes followed your dad as he jumped out of the car and headed for the trunk. The hood popped up for a minute and then your dad reappeared with what seemed to be a....BAT?

You jumped out of the car and distress shot through your veins. "Dad" You called for him but he'd already made up his mind and as you stressfullly walked behind him, he casually headed for the car, the bat vibrating in his hands. "Dad, you're gonna get us into trouble." You whispered as if whispering would make the crime your father is about to commit any less obvious.

But John totally ignored you and he swung the bat before sending it into the Cayenne's back window-the glass instantly chattered. You flinched and before you were even able to process the first hit, a second one echoed through the quiet neighborhood.

You flinched again. "Dad, st-"

"I'm only doing this for you, honey." John rounded the car and stopped at the front of the car. "If it were up to me, i'd slice the boy AND his father." The third swing hit harder, more violent. And the alarm continues blaring. "All he had to do was teach his son some manners. But since he can't do that, i'll teach 'em both a good lesson."

There's that story, and there's another one. Where you're being you, and for you, emotions have a like, a giant gravitational pull on your life-just like this time.

You and dad have been on the road for almost two days-stupid shapeshifters and it's that week of the month that's the most chaoti-- and this stupid fucking booth is weird and squishy and-

Your cheeks grew hot and wetness suddenly streamed down your face. When John noticed, he blew out a long sigh. He shut his eyes slowly, bringing his index and thumb to the opposite sides of his face, rubbing roughly.

Not fucking cool, dad. This shit's tiring enough. 'You know what-" You stop midsentence, rushing off to the bathroom but a sudden strain pulled you back.

"No-no, i'm sorry, honey, i'm sor-"

"I'm already tired enough." Your voice came out full and rough, heavy with the build up of saliva in your throat. "don't need you making fun of m-" You were about to yank your wrist away when he held it tighter.

"Come on that's not what's happening here." John swiftly got up and faced you. "I just-i'm tired too, kid. I-" He sighed again, and you wiped away your tears.

"Coooome here." Too slow but too sweet-and not a question either, your dad reached for the back of your head and brought it to his chest. He planted a kiss over your hair and gently swayed both of your bodies left and right. "Dad's here." His tone might've been gentle, but it still bore a hint of annoyance.

He doesn't mean-he "You don't mean that-you're just saying it because i'm-"

"Noo i do mean it, baby, i do-" he sighed once more. "I'm just tired. That's why i sound like this." He planted a second kiss on your forehead before boaring into your eyes. You dropped your gaze down in the process, too-

"I'm sorry." His thick eyebrows softened back to their normal position. And his bunny teeth appeared. Amused, he hesitated to speak for a few seconds. "You know you're too old for this right?"

You pinched his waist, causing him to jerk back, choking on a chuckle.

You sniffed, throwing embarassed glances his way. "Shut up."

"I'm sorry, honey."

What the hell is wrong with me? Is the first thought that comes to mind. There sure are many more stories to tell about the great John Winchester. But to sum it all up, you are indeed on his fucking side.

-----

@marvelfanfn2187a113

----

WOO WOO, i hope yall made it to the end. See ya next time 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀

[princessxt]

Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?

omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)

You can see the list of who I write about here

"The Monster Is Gone"

Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader

Gender: Angst, fluffy

Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers

——————♥︎♥︎——————

My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.

A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.

I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.

Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.

That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.

I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.

We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.

And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.

He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.

My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"

In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.

He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.

I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.

At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out

"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.

At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.

"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.

"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.

"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.

"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.

"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.

"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.

It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.

Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.

I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.

I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.

I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.

I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.

With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.

I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.

I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.

Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.

I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.

"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.

"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.

"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.

"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.

Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.

"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.

"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.

"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."

"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."

[roachingurcoach]

okay I don't really know how to frame this. but like. funniest way to confirm Dean is Ben's dad is

20 year-old Ben takes a genetics test for fun or whatever, and the results he gets back are just batshit insane. it's like. oh hey. my biological father is a known serial killer who's still on the FBI's most wanted list and has been found or thought dead multiple times. and my uncle. and my grandfather. and my grandmother. and my--

[jasmines-library]

I’m in love with the angst. Can you do a sister Winchester story where she’s at dinner with John and the boys and she starts choking

Knock it off

Note: Sorry this took me so long to get to! I wasn't 100% sure what direction to take this in so it's a little short i'm sorry, but I hope it's okay.

warnings: Choking. J*hn Winchester (yes he is a warning)

Word count: 1k

⛤ SPN MASTERLIST ⛤

It was an unusual occurrence for the four of you to be in one room at the same time, let alone sat crowded around a dinner table eating something other than diner food or one of those ready made meals that were convenient, but tasted like cardboard and had an aftertaste that stuck around for far too long, But nevertheless, there you were. You were crammed in between your brothers, your knees rubbed up against theirs and your elbows occasionally bumped into each other as you took forkfuls of food. 

There was an unmeasurable grin plastered across your face, reaching from one ear to the next. And there was one on your dad’s too. He was treasuring the moment, you were sure. The way his body relaxed into the wooden chair told you that much. With time left over after a hunt that went unusually well, he had decided to cook something so, a quick pit-stop and a few hours later, he had managed to produce a steaming tray of burgers from the motel’s half functioning grill, and whilst it was far from gourmet, and wasn't going to make up for his countless mistakes and poor parenting, or win him any ‘father of the year awards’, it was a gentle step in the right direction.

The sound of the tv playing listlessly in the background was drowned out almost completely by the chatter as you shared stories and memories, laughing at the few treasured moments that the four of you had shared. 

You were about halfway through the meal when it happened; suddenly your body was completely deprived of air. You began to work up a coughing fit, spluttering and cutting out the chatter completely as everyone turned to look at you. 

Dean deepened the creases between his eyes. “You okay there sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to dismiss him with a thumbs up, but whatever was cutting off your airway wouldn't budge. Gasping for breath, you pushed your chair away from the table clutching at your chest. Your brothers were up in a flash frantically patting you on the back. It felt like hours before the offending piece budged and you took in air selfishly. 

A few rouge tears trailed down your face as Sam led you over to the edge of the bed, setting you down gently. He rubbed his hands soothingly up and down your arms as you hyperventilated, now taking in too much air with the thought of running out again persistent in your mind. 

“Deep breaths, Kiddo. Deep breaths.” He crouched down in front of you, taking your small hands in his and pressing a gentle kiss to them. 

You followed his breathing, inhaling deeply, then holding it, savouring it and then exhaling back out again, until finally your body remembered somewhat how it was supposed to function and your breathing steadied. 

Your dad came over hesitantly with a glass of cool water clutched gently in his hands. It was strange that even with all of his years hunting monsters, he still didn’t know how to act around his children when they were in distress. Fear gripped him tightly like a glove, taking over all of his control over his body. So, it took him a few moments to process what was happening before he actually made a move towards you. 

“You alright?” He queried as you took gentle sips of water, under the watchful eyes of your older brother, Dean. 

You nodded. “Yeah…”

Dean ran his hands over his face and let out a sigh. “Jesus, sweetheart. You scared the crap out of us.”

“Sorry…” You shrugged, pushing your shoulders up to your ears.

Sammy shook his head, tossing his hair around his face. “It was an accident.”

“Just remember to chew your food next time.” Dean quipped. He was always one to make a joke out of a serious situation to lighten the mood. He couldn’t stand the tension, it made him nauseous. 

‘

You rolled your eyes and slapped him playfully on the chest. “Not cool.”

He turned his head. “You know I am.”

“Dude.” Sam said, giving his older brother a look. “Shut up.”

“What?! I am!”

He sighed. “If you say so.”

You just chuckled at their antics, glad that your incident didn’t ruin the tender moment between your family. You would always treasure little moments like these, with your brothers being your brothers, even if it meant spending time hauled up in a motel listening to the pair of them bicker. It was a reminder that sometimes, the three of you could be normal if only just for a precious moment.

⛤ MAIN MASTERLIST ⛤

[seasonofthenerd]

Pov: You are the oldest Winchester kid

Aka Dean and Sam's Older Sister

PRE SEASON 1!!

Being dean and sam's older sister, John and Mary had you in 1976, 3 years before Dean was born, and 7 years before Sam was born

‌being 7 years old when Mary is killed by Azazel

‌Parentified soon after that as John became cynical with his revenge

‌Not being able to go to college due to obvious reasons

Going to Dean and Sam's ptms because John was absent father ™, and going to yours alone

‌Dropping Sam and Dean to school after passing out

‌Learning to drive and fix the impala at 15 from John because that'll help when you two are on hunts

‌Teaching Dean to drive when he is 16

‌Your relationships never work out

‌ Becoming a mom figure for Sam, and being Dean's support system

‌Being an expert at hunting and research

‌John taking you with him on hunting trips while Dean stayed back to take care of Sam

‌Having a lot of fights with John because of his behavior towards the boys

‌daddy issues™®©

‌Having many opportunities to run away and leave everything and everyone behind but not doing it for the sake of your brothers' future

‌Living in separate places than John after sam leaves for Stanford, providing dean with a safe place when he needs it, but still hunting with him.

I don't know if it's good it's just something I came up with randomly, if anyone reads please lmk if you are interested in more parts, thank you for reading!!

Also this is the first time I've ever written something and posted it on here (cries in panic and anxiety)

[all-yourn]

dean winchester & “gibson girl” by ethel cain [on youtube]

[winchesterdefender]

And Then There Were Three | Winchester Sister I

Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.

Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Meg Winchester (OFC), Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter

Warnings - very mild cursing, John Winchester

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 3,096

Notes - This is the first instalment of the Winchester Sister series featuring my OFC Meg Winchester! Please be kind <3

Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

UPDATE - I have moved my writing to @winniewritesstories to make my writing easier to find than on this mess of a blog! I won't be taking this down but all future writing (for Meg and reader inserts) will be there!

Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.

Dean Winchester was strong.

And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby.

It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed.

The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother.

But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free.

But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.

He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.

The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.

"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.

"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.

"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"

"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.

"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"

"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"

"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"

"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."

"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."

Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."

"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."

"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).

As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.

The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.

"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.

"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.

John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.

"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?

"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."

This time John did drop his beer.

The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.

He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.

In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.

"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.

"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.

"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."

"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.

"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?

"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.

"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."

Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.

"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.

"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."

"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."

"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.

"What?" Dean asked incredulously.

"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.

"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.

"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "

"We're her family! The three of us."

"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.

"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"

"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"

"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"

"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."

Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.

He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.

But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.

John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.

The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.

"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.

"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.

"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.

"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.

Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.

"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."

"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile. You don't know that."

"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."

"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.

"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."

John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."

"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"

"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?

Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."

It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.

"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."

Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."

Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.

Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.

John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.

Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.

Dean Winchester was strong.

But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?

The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.

And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.

He's Dean Winchester.

[athena-xiii]

So I’m rewatching supernatural and the way Dean just shuts down around his dad will never fail to fuck me up.

Dean is the kinda guy who you’d assume has the fight drama response. He’s loud, impulsive, cocky, and brash. He is not any of those things around John. His trauma response is fawn. I know because it’s mine too. Conforming to what someone wants to keep them happy.

You bend yourself any way they ask until you break. Sometimes you’re never able to find your way back to your original shape. Sometimes you’ve been doing since such a young age that there wasn’t time for you to be your own shape before you were moulded.

Dean Winchester was parentified in a way that is usually seen most in eldest daughters. Which is why he resonates with me so much.

God I hate this show it makes me feel so many things

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Daughter Problems

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, John Winchester & daughter!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x2)

Synopsis: you get your very first period, and the boys are unequipped to deal with it

A/N: I tried to make John comforting but still in character, I hope you guys like it! (PS—I’m on my period so this was perfect)

“Dad!”

The slam of the motel door and the sound of your voice jolted Dean out of his dozing and had his head shooting up from the lore book he was reading.

“Jeez kid,” he grumbled. “Do you have to be so loud?”

“Where’s dad?” You demanded.

“On a hunt.” Dean gestured to the book in front of him. “I’m researching for him. You got back just in time to help.”

“Not now, Dean.” You huffed. “I need dad.”

Dean was suddenly stiffer and more alert.

“Why? Something happen?”

You groaned. “No, De, I just need him.” You rubbed your arms. “Can—can I call him?”

Dean stared at you for a moment, realizing that your flannel was tied around your waist rather than covering your arms, despite the cold air outside and in the motel.

“What’s with the shirt?” He questioned.

“It doesn’t matter!” You snapped, and Dean’s eyes widened.

“Alright, c’mon, spill.”

“Dean, forget it, I need—“

“Dad’s busy. I’m all you’ve got. Now tell me what’s going on.”

“Is something wrong?” Sam’s voice came right after he stepped into the motel room.

“I need to call dad!” You insisted.

“We’re not calling dad,” Dean said. “You don’t have a choice here, kid. If you need something, then—“

You didn’t let him finish. With a dramatic huff, you took hold of your flannel and untied it, revealing the bloodstain on your jeans.

The silence was dramatic, long, and extremely uncomfortable.

“Um…I take it you haven’t gotten this before,” Dean said. “But I mean…you know what it is, right? Like you know—“

“Yes, Dean! I know what it is!” You retied your flannel, fidgeting uncomfortably. “And no, I’ve never had it before.”

“We could, uh—“ Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, we could try to get you some stuff…do you know what you need?”

“Not really,” you mumbled. “I mean, I know there’s different options but I don’t know what…”

“Oh boy,” Dean grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. You felt your face heat up at Dean’s embarrassment.

“You know what, never mind,” you huffed, turning and heading for the bathroom. “Just forget it.”

“No no, wait—“ Sam tried to stop you, but you brushed past him.

“I said forget it!”

The slam of the bathroom door ended your demand for you.

…

“Do you think we should go to the store?”

“I don’t know, man, I mean I don’t even know what she nee-“

The brothers’ twenty-minute long argument was cut short by the door opening, and the imposing form of John Winchester entered the room.

“Hey boys,” he greeted, frowning when he was met with awkward silence. “What’s going on? Where’s your sister?”

“Um…the bathroom,” Dean answered. “She uh…she got…she’s on her first…”

“Would you spit it out?” John snapped.

“She got her period,” Sam whispered as if it were a secret.

“Oh boy.” John rolled his eyes, and Sam and Dean were taken aback when he chuckled. “And you two idiots have been standing around trying to figure out what to do?”

“Well…” Dean looked defensive, but he couldn’t think of anything to say to defend himself.

“Alright, alright.” John shook his head. “Apparently health class taught you guys nothing. Here.” He grabbed a notepad and started writing up a list. “I want you two to go out and get these, and I’ll deal with your sister.” He handed the list to Dean, whose eyes widened at the sight.

“She needs all that?”

“Just get going,” John demanded.

Once the boys were gone, he knocked hesitantly on the bathroom door.

“Hey sweetheart? It’s dad, can I come in?”

He was met with silence for a few seconds, before a weak “ok” prodded him to open the door. His whole figure seemed to soften when he saw you sitting in the bathtub fully dressed, your clothes and hair soaked.

“I wanted to wash the blood off, but I didn’t want to see Sam and Dean again just to get clean clothes,” you mumbled. “So I just showered with them on.” You rubbed at your tear-stained face, and kept your gaze purposefully averted from John.

“Oh kiddo…” John sighed, coming to sit by you. His pitying reply seemed to just upset you further, and you started to cry. “Hey, hey,” John soothed. “It’s ok, really. Your brothers are off getting a list of stuff, and I can help show you what you need.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” You sniffled. “I got blood everywhere, and-and I’m a mess and I can’t stop crying…”

John had to admit, his little girl crying in a bathtub and questioning his sympathy felt like a punch to the gut. Was he really so bad?

“Look, I…I know I can be tough on you kids,” John admitted. “But I also know that this is a lot for you. This isn’t your fault, none of it—not the blood everywhere, or the crazy emotions, or anything. I’m just trying to make this easy for all of us, ok?”

“Ok.” You nodded, your tears finally subsiding.

“Ok,” John breathed. “Which means you’re gonna have to help me. Talk to me, what are you feeling?”

“My stomach really hurts,” you admitted.

“But you’re not…” John hesitated, then he huffed. “I mean you don’t feel like—“

“Like killing anyone?” You asked, struggling hard to resist rolling your eyes. “No…I kinda just feel like crying.”

“I’ll take it over the alternative,” John decided. A faint, nostalgic smile flitted over his features. “Your mother used to bite everyone’s heads off when—“ John shook his head, blinking hard as if blinking away the memory. “Um, anyway. I know you’re feeling pretty bad, but we’ve got enough enemies without you trying to kill us too.” John tried to smile again to indicate that he was—kind of—kidding, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. You smiled back anyway, if only to take pity on him, and he seemed relieved.

“I won’t,” you promised.

“We’re back!” Dean yelled as he entered the motel room.

“In here!” John announced, but when he saw you squirming and shrinking down as if you could disappear down the drain, he stood and went to meet Dean at the bathroom door instead. He took the bag Dean offered him and shut the door in his face.

“Ok.” John started laying everything out on the bathroom counter, and you felt like you would die if your face got any hotter. John noticed your face, and he stopped. “Right, uhh…” he put the bag down. “I’m just gonna leave this here and let you figure it out. Knock if you have any questions and I’ll come help you. I’m gonna get you some dry clothes, and you just…just come out when you’re done I guess.” John started to turn the door handle, but your voice stopped him.

“Dad?”

“Yeah kiddo?”

“Thanks.”

John grinned at you—a rare occurrence that you filed away in your memory—and walked out.

You stood up, laying a towel down on the bathroom floor so you wouldn’t get water everywhere, and took hold of the bag. It looked like the guys had gotten you just about every option of everything you could possibly need, including chocolate, which you munched on while you tried to decide what you wanted to use.

…

Ten minutes later, you were dried off and in clean clothes and hesitantly leaving the bathroom. You were surprised to see just your dad when entered the room.

“I sent the guys off to get some food,” John explained. “You feeling ok?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, shuffling your feet. “Are you, um…are you gonna be around?”

“I finished off the hunt,” John assured you. “I should be here for at least a few days.”

“Thank you.” You felt your dad stiffen in surprise when you hugged him, but he quickly relaxed.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “You know your brothers we’re just trying to help, right?”

“They’re idiots.” Your words—muffled by John’s jacket—make him chuckle.

“Yeah, sometimes they are. But hey, that’s what I’m here for, right?”

You grinned, your arms tightening around your dad. “Right.”

And John hugged you back tightly, a smile on his face as he realized that even as you got older, there were some things you still needed your dad for.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[lunajay33]

Guardian🩶

Summary: You’re Sam and Deans little sister and they always looked out for you, so when you feel like you disappoint your dad, they all remember how fragile you are

Pairing: Big brother Deah Winchester x little sister f!reader, big brother Sam x little sister reader, Father John x daughter reader

•Masterlist•

Growing up as the youngest in the family of hunters was rough but being a girl was even harder, you always tried your best to live up to your fathers expectations and be as strong as your brothers but in some way you felt like you always fell short

Now you were all older, Dean was 26, Sam was 22 and you were 19, Sam finally came back from College after his girlfriend died but now it was just the three of you on the road since John had left to go on his own hunting

Sitting in the back of the impala on the way to another case you were unusually quiet and the guys noticed

“You okay back there?” Dean asked looking at you from the rear view mirror

“We have bigger things to worry about” you mumble not wanting to add to the bigger case here

“Hey you’re out baby sister you matter more than some case, so what’s going on?” Sam asks as he turns in the front seat to look at you

“I…….i miss dad, i feel lost without him” you don’t mean to but the tears drip down your face something you rarely did which shocked them, seeing the panic on their faces you wiped your tears and balled up in the back seat

“He’s been gone months you’ve seemed fine” Dean states you knew they missed him too but your relationship with your father was different you are his little girl even if you didn’t always make him proud

“It’s nothing”

“Come on Angel”

“I just don’t wanna lose anyone else, I love you both more than you could know and I love our time together, but I want dad too”

“We’re here” Dean said pulling up to the motel, you all settled in tired from a long drive

“I’m gonna go see Meg I’ll bring food on the way back” Sam said after he hung up the phone probably talking to this Meg chick

Now it was just Dean and you sat across from each other on opposite beds

“Dean can I ask you something” you ask biting your lip anxiously, after your father left you felt the weight of disappointment crushing you

“What is it kid, you’re so glum today”

“Do you think…..do you think dads proud of me?” His eyes widened but you could see the hurt

“The hell are you talking about, he loves you, you’re probably his favourite”

“I think he left because of me, because of the way things happened on the last case with just me you and dad, I made a mistake and I disappointed him and he left, I didn’t mean to”

“Baby girl you did nothing wrong, he just had a case he needed to work on alone, said it was too dangerous for us to go” he said sitting next to you in the bed wrapping his around your shoulders

“Maybe I should leave, I always held you guys back anyways”

“Hey don’t talk like that you’re family you’re not going anywhere you hear me?” He grunts out

You sigh mentally and physically exhausted

“I think I’m gonna turn in early” you say crawling up the bed and pulling the covers up, you slept through the night not even waking up for dinner when Sam got back

The case went on and you all did some digging, you were looking through a book when you found that symbol again, it was used for ancient spirits that someone could use to their will, Sam had found Meg’s hide out and so you all drove down there

“Y/n you’re sitting this one out” Dean says as you all get out of the car that’s blocked a street away from Meg’s building

“What why I can help”

They loaded up on weapons like usual

“Because kid you’re not in your right mind right now, it ain’t your fault but I just want you to take it easy for this one, just stay in the car we will be back in no time” you wanted to fight Dean on this but the look he gave you shut you up, you didn’t wanna disappoint him too

“Okay just be safe”

You sat in the car waiting and waiting until you saw them in the rearview mirror running across the street running in the direction of our hide out, you got out running behind them but they were farther ahead than you, when you got to the hideout room you heard screaming, you bust into the room seeing shadows slashing at Dean Sam and……and John, you run infront of your father taking the harsh slashes from the spirits, you can feel you stomach being shredded, claws run down your face then you felt 4 long claws go straight through your back, gasping for air that you couldn’t inhale, you drop to the floor the pain unimaginable

Sam sets off a flare destroying the spirits, someone dragged you out into the hallway as you came back into focus seeing the three of them watching over you

“Daddy I’m sorry, I just…..*gasp* wanted to make you proud” then everything fades quickly leaving nothing but black

John, Dean and Sam brought you to the hospital, waiting for your diagnosing the nurses helped patch them up, they waited in your room sitting around your hospital bed praying you’d wake up

“How is she doc?” Dean asks as the doctor walks in to check your progress

“This was one angry bear, slashing is one thing but to stab its claws through her is strange behaviour” they boys looked at each other hoping the doctor believed the lie

“But we’ve done all we could, she lost a lot of blood we just have to wait for her to wake up, sometimes talking to patients who are unconscious helps bring them back, might wanna try it” he said before he left the room

Sam held you hand as he pushed back stray hairs that stuck to your face

“Please pull through, you’re the glue that holds us together, the person who brightens our hellish lives, we need you” he sighs resting his head against your intertwined hands, John and Dean had a war going on inside their heads, Sam always had a different relationship with you than Dean, Dean was crazy protective and still saw you like you were the baby he first held, Sam saw you like his twin, his confidant and the only one in the family who understood him, and those last words you said played over and over again in Johns head

They stayed there for hours just waiting for any sign that you’d wake up until eventually they all passed out from exhaustion, you woke up late in the night, the only thing that lit the room was a lamp on a near by table

You try to sit up but let out a little scream when you feel the wounds that littered your body, waking the others up, they stood by your bed , John at your right Sam next to him and Dean on your left

“Sweetheart you’re up, you’re one tough cookie” John says resting his hand against your cheek

“Are you guys okay?”

“We’re not the ones who are in the hospital bed Angel” Dean smiles squeezing your hand

“I just wanted to help, wanted to protect you daddy” when you called him that it struck right through his heart, remembering how you’re really just his little girl the one who’d stay up late into the night at the end of the motel beds waiting for him to come back, squealing when he’d walk through the door jumping into his arms

“I’m sorry baby girl, Dean told me what’s been going on and you have to know, even though I can be a hard ass sometimes I love you more than anything, I remember when your mother first had you and I held you in my arms I knew I’d do anything to make you happy and safe and I know your brothers felt the same, I’m sorry I left and made you feel like I was disappointed in you, you’re the strongest young lady I know, especially to have to deal with these two all day everyday, I love you sweetheart, my hope” by the time he was done you were a blubbering mess finally letting out all this pent up emotions

“I love you too, please don’t leave me, I need you dad”

“I’ll stay angel, I’ll stay”

[castiwls]

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

being the middle child in the winchester family...

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

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

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

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

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

Basically, you stopped being a child at ten.

You and your brothers were really close.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Around this time Sam also started to want to leave. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#proud parent moment.

Though eventually, Dean found the letter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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