#little sister winchester
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1000roughdrafts · 9 months ago
Note
hey! if you take requests, i’m just wondering if you’d consider a sister winchester one? maybe her at 18? i love your writing so much, and i’d really love something like a hurt reader/dying reader?? something super angsty ahaha
Oh, for sure! Angst is my favorite! (as I'm sure you can tell by the word count lol) sorry it’s taken me like 3 years to get to this 😞
A/N: this was meant to post 2/28/24 because I wanted to ease into coming back with an every other week posting schedule BUT I’m just too excited and antsy for that lol also it’s set in Season 1, Episode 1
Thank you by the way!
Title: Please Wake Up
Warnings: swearing, graphic description of injury and illness, blood angst, hurt/dying reader, depiction of medical procedures, takes place in season 1 episode 1 :)
Word Count: 5.8k
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Being third born after two boys, Y/N always felt like she had big shoes to fill. Despite her best efforts to impress the man, she never really formed a bond with John. Her next role model was Dean, who became more of a father to her than John ever was or could be.
Until her eleventh birthday, Dean did her hair into pigtails every day, partly because he hadn't learned to do any other hairstyle but mostly because he thought it was the cutest on her. He'd pack her and Sam's lunch with snacks he'd bought from vending machines and even pretend to take her on hunts because he knew she wanted to be exactly like him.
When she wasn't learning about monsters and guns with Dean, she spent time with Sam. He'd help her with her homework or play board and card games. They have as much in common as Y/N and Dean. Neither Sam nor Y/N got along with John, and neither remember their mothers. 
Y/N's mother was a woman John met in Nebraska three years after the boy's mom died. The affair only lasted a night, but to his surprise, he heard from her again six months later with the news that they had a baby girl on the way. John was shocked and heartbroken. He couldn't bear the thought of bringing another child into the life of hunting.
John kept his distance, adamant that Y/N would be better off without him, and when another three months of silence went by, he figured that Y/N's mother came around to see it his way. Unfortunately, her pregnancy was complicated, as was the birth, and it turned out that having Y/N is what killed her. 
When John got the call, he had half a mind to let the state take custody of little Y/N. Indeed, they would provide her with a better life than he could. John decided to meet her at least, and when he laid eyes on her perfect little face, he couldn't bring himself to abandon her. 
Y/N was barely sixteen when Sam left for college. While she was proud of him for putting himself first, it broke her heart for him to go the way he did. She missed him more and more every day, often keeping Dean up at night with her sniffling and crying. After a while, he would get into bed next to her when the tears started and sing Hey Jude while playing with her hair to help her fall asleep. That went on for another six months before she finally started to fall asleep without crying. 
For her seventeenth birthday, Dean came across a necklace he'd wanted to get for her since Sam left. From his wallet, he took out the only picture he had of the sibling trio, representing the single moment of their life where John treated them like regular kids, and using his pocket knife, he carved around their heads and bodies to match the exact size of the locket, smiling proudly at himself when it fit perfectly. 
Now at eighteen, she stands next to the Impala while Dean lugs their bags out, drops them into the trunk, and slams it shut. He heads for the driver's door but stops when he realizes Y/N hasn't opened hers yet. Eyebrows raised, he twirls a finger in the air as if to say, 'Let's get a move on.'
"Are you ever gonna teach me how to drive, Dean?" she asks. "I mean, you've got to, you know?" 
"No, I don't. Get in," Dean says. She does so with a huff. Dean checks the mirrors before backing out of their parking spot. Turning to Y/N, he says, "Besides, as long as I'm around, you don't need to," but softens his face into a smile when he looks at her. "Cause there's no way in Hell I'll ever let you drive my car." 
Y/N lets out a soft chuckle. "It doesn't have to be this car, Dean!" She rolls the window down, letting the cool breeze hit her face. "What happens if we get separated and I'm being chased by… I don't know, something that has super speed, and my only way back to you is to steal a car and -" 
"Stop. First of all, you should know that I'd never put you in that kind of danger," Dean says, disgusted by the mere thought. He lets out a long sigh. "I'll teach you," he says, looking at her gleaming smile. He tries his damnedest to see her for the adult she's becoming, but he only sees the happy baby in pull-ups he used to feed marshmallows and jello to on a motel room floor. "Just… not yet, okay?" 
She scoffs, "Most people learn to drive when they're only fifteen. I mean, you took me to freaking Vegas with a fake ID for my birthday, for fuck's sake!" 
"I said not yet, Y/N!" he says, shooting her the 'dad look' he's been perfecting since she was four. 
"Fine," she grumbles. She clasps her hands, "So I was looking through news articles, and there seem to be vamps in the next town. Should we be on that?" 
Dean clears his throat and needlessly adjusts the rear-view mirror. "Actually, kiddo, we're on something else right now." He keeps his head straight but glances at her out of the corner of his eyes. Whispering, he says, "We're gonna go get Sammy." 
Y/N's eyes widen as her head whips to look at him. "What?" 
He keeps his eyes on the road, "yeah, uh, with Dad missing... we could use the help," he says, gripping the steering wheel tighter. 
"But Sam's at college!" Y/N scoffs, "he wanted out!" 
"He abandoned us!" he shouts, shaking his head at himself when he notices her shoulders tense. Her eyes peer into her lap, where her hands lie folded. “Look Y/N/N, I just… I can't shake this awful feeling that something is wrong." He waits for a response from her, but she only nods with thin lips. She tunes him out and focuses on the wind hitting the window. "I gotta make sure they're okay," he says softly. 
Over the years, Y/N has learned to trust Dean's intuition, but right now, it just feels like he's being selfish. She opts to stay quiet, even if it makes a long drive longer.
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Y/N jolts awake at the sound of the trunk slamming shut. She takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She doesn't see Dean next to her, so she scans her surroundings through squinted eyes, hoping for a clue about her whereabouts. She finds a gas station receipt in her lap and flips it over to see the scribbles of Dean's handwriting telling her to 'stay put or else.' She rolls her eyes, crumpling it into a ball to throw it into the backseat.
She hears the voices of two familiar men, one of whom she hasn't heard in two years. Her heart races, and she fumbles with the seat belt, trying to unhook it with shaky hands. She jumps out of the car and turns in time to see Dean leaning on the back of the Impala.
"It's a law school interview," Sam says, "and it's my whole future on a plate," he glares.
"Law school?" Dean asks with a smirk. Y/N walks over to stand next to Dean. He shoots a quick, acknowledging glance her way. Sam's eyes shift between Dean and Y/N, softening when they land on Y/N, "so we got a deal or not?" he asks flatly.
Dean says nothing but lightly nods his head. Y/N runs towards Sam, nearly knocking him over with a hug.
"Y/N/N," he smiles. Pulling her even closer to him, he wraps his arms tightly around her back and kisses the top of her head. "I missed you," he whispers.
"I missed you, too," she says, her eyes welling up with tears. Sam looks at Dean just in time to see him press his lips together with an 'I told you so' in his eyes. Sam shakes his head, squinting at Dean just before he lets go of Y/N.
"Kay, I gotta put a bag together," he sighs, "I'll be right back."
He turns to head for the door, and Y/N doesn't take her eyes off him until he disappears into the building. She blinks her eyes and turns to face Dean. He pushes himself off the back of the car and silently heads for the driver seat.
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Sam and Y/N sit in the car at a gas station while Dean heads for snacks. Sam opens his door but quickly looks over his shoulder to check on Y/N. This is when he notices the box of tapes sitting next to her. Intrigued, he shifts in the chair and asks her to hand them to him. Y/N is hesitant because it's hard to say how Dean would react, and she's always hated being in the middle of their fights but does so anyway. Sam rests his tongue between his lips as he takes the box from Y/N. Stretching his legs out of the car, he rests the box in his lap to filter through them.
"Hey," Dean says from behind the Impala, his mouth wrapped around a candy bar, "either of you want breakfast?" he asks, holding a soda and a bag of chips.
Y/N waits for Sam to answer first. "No, thanks," he says, glancing Dean's way momentarily.
"I do," Y/N smiles.
"So how'd you pay for that stuff? Three of you still running credit card scams?" Sam says, going back to looking through the cassettes.
"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, putting the gas nozzle back into the pump.
Y/N chimes in, "Besides, all we do is apply," she shrugs, "it's not our fault they send us the cards."
"Yeah? And what names did you write on the applications this time?" he asks, swinging his legs back inside the car and closing the door behind him.
"Uh, Burt Aframian," Y/N answers. Dean gets into the seat, handing Y/N the drink and chips. "Thank you," she chirps.
"And his son Hector," Dean adds, "scored two cards out of the deal."
"Sounds about right. I swear, man. You've gotta update your cassette tape collection."
Dean frowns, nearly offended. "Why?"
"Well, for one, they're cassette tapes, and two," Sam holds one up, "Black Sabbath? Motorhead?" he says, dropping them to grab another, "Metallica?" he laughs, "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock," he says as Dean rips the Metallica tape from his hand with a glare.
"Well, house rules, Sammy." Dean pops the tape into the player with a tight smile, "driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cake-hole," he says, dropping the empty case into the box. "Isn't that right, Y/N?" he smirks into the rear-view mirror and smiles when he sees her roll her eyes.
"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam scolds, "it's Sam, okay?"
Turning the volume up, Dean cocks his head to the side, "sorry. I can't hear you. The music's too loud," he says with a slight chuckle.
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Crashing a crime scene where police are still investigating is just another Saturday with Dean for Y/N, but seeing Sam's eyes widen at the box of Dean's fake IDs calls attention to how out of the norm this life is. Dean makes wise-ass comments to the cops, as usual, and Sam stomps on Dean's foot. Dean responds by smacking Sam's head as they bicker on the way back to the car, but Y/N can't help but grin from ear to ear.
Even when her brothers are arguing, Y/N couldn't possibly be happier. Today is her first hunt with both of her brothers and the first time in far too long since the three of them had been together for any reason.
They make their way to find Amy, who they learn is the girlfriend of the victim from listening to the cops on the bridge. They stop her while she's putting up missing posters, and after lying about being distant relatives of her boyfriend, they ask if she'd be willing to answer some questions to find him.
… "It's kind of this local legend," Amy's friend says after a few minutes of chatting. Massaging her thumb with her other hand, she continues, "This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Dean glances over at Sam and Y/N, who listen intently, "Well, supposedly, she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."
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At a local library, Dean searches the archive page for any murders on Centennial Highway with no results. Sam shoves Dean's chair, and when it rolls back, he scoots his chair to the computer to take over, earning him a slap from Dean. After replacing 'murder' with 'suicide,' a news article pops up.
"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river," Sam reads.
"Does it say why she did it?" Y/N asks, scooting her chair closer to Sam to try and read the screen.
"Yeah," Sam says.
"What?" Dean says with raised eyebrows.
"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently, her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing." Sam lets out a breath, "both die," he says in a whisper.
The air grows thick around them, and Y/N frowns. "That's terrible," she says, shaking her head.
"'Our babies were gone,'" Sam reads, "'and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."
"Hmm," Dean points to the picture on the screen, "that bridge look familiar to you?"
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They hit the bridge at nightfall. Crickets sing to water drumming against the rocks as it rushes under their feet. The clouds hang low in the sky, giving the air around them a haze.
"So," Dean says, peering over the bridge at the water, "this is where Constance took the swan dive," he says, leaning against the rail next to Y/N. 
"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks in disbelief, looking over at Dean. 
"Well, he's chasing the same story, and we're chasing him," Dean shrugs, turning to walk down the bridge. 
Sam turns to follow. "Okay, so now what?" he says, forcing a breath through his nose. Y/N walks right next to him, still scared to let him out of her sight. 
"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while," Dean grumbles. 
Sam stops walking, "Dean," he says, raising his hands before dropping them. "I told you. I've gotta be back by Monday." 
"Monday," Dean says, pivoting to make grueling eye contact with Sam, but only turns his body enough that he's still facing the bridge's railing. "Right," he says, shaking a finger, "the interview." The bridge creaks under him as he turns the rest of the way. 
"Yeah," Sam nods. 
"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you?" Dean says, shifting his weight between his feet. "You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asks, the animosity growing with each word. 
Sam shrugs, "maybe. Why not?" 
Dean's voice roughens, "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know the things you've done?" 
Sam takes a few threatening steps toward Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know," he scowls. 
"Well, that's healthy," Dean sneers. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy, but sooner or later, you're going to have to face up to who you really are," he says, turning around to continue walking. 
Sam huffs, "Who's that?" 
"You're one of us," Dean shrugs, a hand gesturing towards Y/N. 
"Hey! Leave me out of this," Y/N grumbles from ahead. 
"No," Sam says, speed walking towards Dean, "I'm not like you," he says, turning around as he stops in front of Dean. "This is not going to be my life."
Dean keeps his jaw tight. "Well, you have a responsibility to..." 
Y/N feels the tension rising and tries to plead with them to stop arguing, but they ignore her. "Guys!" she shouts again. 
"To Dad? And his crusade?" Sam scoffs. "If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like! And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her," he shakes his head, "Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 
Dean grips Sam's shirt and swings him around and against the bridge's railing with a clunk at Sam's weight against it. 
Y/N flips around and runs to their side, "Dean, what are you doing? Are you crazy?" She panics. But Dean continues to ignore her as he glares at Sam. 
After a long, breathless pause, Y/N shouts again, "Dean!" 
The misty air is still between them, and even the wind seems too frightened to move. It's as if the world is put on pause.
Dean's eyebrows raise, and he keeps a firm grip on Sam's shirt. Under his breath, he says, "Don't talk about her like that." 
He throws Sam's jacket from his hands and takes a few stabilizing steps backward in one movement. Y/N runs to check on Sam, who shakes her off with an "I'm fine" that sounds muffled compared to the pounding of her heart. A few tears escape her when she looks over at Dean walking away from them, but she doesn't realize she's crying until the taste of salt hits her lips. 
Her eyes return to Sam, shaking her head in disgust that Dean would treat him like that. She knew it had been rough for Dean since Sam left for college, but hell, it's been hard on her, too, and she's not throwing anyone against the side of a bridge!
Dean halts, “Sam. Y/N!” he calls. Y/N turns with a full-body glare, but her eyes widen when she sees a woman in a long, white dress standing on the bridge's railing. The woman looks over at them, and Y/N can see the resemblance to the picture of Constance. The woman's hair and dress sway in the wind, and she keeps her eyes on them as she allows herself to drop from the ledge. 
With a grunt, Sam rushes to the railing to look over it for her, Dean and Y/N not far behind him. 
"Where'd she go?" Dean barks. 
Breathless, Sam pushes out an "I don't know." 
The roar of the Impala's engine turning on startles them, their bodies whipping around just in time to see the headlights flick on. 
"What the-," Dean says. 
"Who's driving your car?" Y/N asks. 
Without taking his eyes off of the car, Dean pulls his keys from his pocket and jingles them, stealing Sam and Y/N's attention to them in unison. The engine revs, drawing back their wide eyes to the Impala. The tires squeal as the car begins to speed towards them. 
"Y/N, go! Go!" Dean says with a hand on each of his siblings, spinning them around to run in the opposite direction. Dean presses his hand firmly on Y/N's back as they run, keeping himself between her and the car. They run as fast as they can until Dean can feel the Impala's breath on his ankles, and he guides them towards the bridge's railing. 
Y/N's heart feels like a brick in her chest, weighing her down at the thought of jumping over. "I can't," she says in a breath, and all in a split second, she feels like her feet are cemented into the bridge's planks as Sam jumps over. "No!" she screams as Dean grips onto her arm, pulling them both over the bridge. 
Sam hangs from the ledge of the bridge, shouting for Y/N as her screams are washed out with a big splash. "Y/N!" he calls again from the back of his throat, climbing up the bridge to get on his knees. He looks over the bridge, scanning for Y/N and Dean, calling out when he sees his brother, "Dean! You alright?" 
"I'm super," Dean grumbles with an outstretched thumbs up. Lying on his back, half submerged in the muddy water. 
"I can't see Y/N! Where's Y/N?" Sam panics, and when the words hit Dean's ears, he springs to his feet in a second. He whirls around in a circle as he searches for her. 
"Y/N!" Dean shouts, wiping mud from his face. He paces around, "Y/N, where are you?" he yells, half-expecting her to pop out from behind a bush to scare him. 
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The world spins around him for a moment, utterly void of sound aside from a ringing in his ears as Dean tries to comprehend what is happening. He closes his eyes tight, shaking his head to clear away the fog that covers him. They open onto the water, catching the moon's glimmer reflecting off something. He runs towards it, hopping from rock to rock until he finds Y/N's broken locket stuck in algae. Dean picks it up with shaky hands, recalling how her face lit up when he first gave it to her. She'd be devastated to see its state now. Fear spills down him in an icy chill.
His head swivels around in search of her. Tears, that he refuses to let fall, poke at his eyes when he sees her lying face down in the water, a bloody rock next to her.
“Y/N!” He shouts, rushing to her. He kneels to pull her out of the water by her shoulder, turning her over so that her back rests against his knee. "Y/N!" he yells again, and when she doesn't respond, he grabs her by the waist and hoists her over his shoulder. He grunts, shifting his weight before jogging for the shore. "Sam! I got her!" 
"Dean! Is she okay?" He calls out as he sprints down the side of the hill to catch up to them. The brothers reach the shore simultaneously, and Dean drops to his knees to gently set Y/N on the ground in front of him, Sam following suit. 
"Come on, be okay, be okay, be okay, be okay," Dean pleads softly, placing two fingers on her neck. His heart is beating so hard that he can't tell if it's her pulse he's feeling or his own. "Sam, I can't feel anything," he says. Dropping an ear to her mouth, he adds, "And I don't think she's breathing." 
"Call 911," Sam demands, ripping his jacket off to tie around Y/N's bleeding head wound. He quickly inspects the rest of her body for any bleeding before placing a hand on her chest. Looking up at Dean, who stands frozen, Sam puts his free hand on Dean's shoulder, "now, Dean!" he shouts, shoving him. 
Sam tilts Y/N's head back, checking again for a pulse, a breath, a twitch, a shudder, anything that meant he wouldn't have to perform CPR on his baby sister. He places his hands on her chest, one over the other, pausing in case her heart miraculously started again, but all he feels under his palms is the stillness of Y/N's wet and cold chest. 
Sam begins chest compressions, and the tears he'd been holding back rush out uncontrollably when he feels her ribs break under his palms. It makes him want to pull away, but he forces himself to continue. Dean watches in wide-eyed horror as he gives the 911 operator their location when asked, keeping his free hand pressed against his forehead. 
"Anything?" he shakily shouts at Sam after what feels like hours. Sam ignores him, counting out loud until he hits thirty again. He stops compressions to blow a shuddering breath into Y/N's mouth, watching her chest rise and fall before delivering another. "Hello! Is anybody on the way? My sister is dying here!" Dean shouts into the phone, but all that meets his ears is static. 
"Dean," Sam says with a heavy breath, beginning compressions again. "You gotta take over," he says between breaths. 
Without question, Dean drops his phone to the ground as he falls to his knees next to her, "come on, Y/N," he pleads, ignoring the burning in his knees as he places his hands together on top of Sam's. Sam leaves his hands under Dean's for just one compression before pulling away. 
"Okay, that's ten. You've got twenty more before breaths," Sam says before they count out loud together with every push into Y/N's chest. 
Dean is growing tired by his third round of compressions, but the sirens in the distance electrify him, giving him the energy he needs to continue. 
His face scrunches up as he musters the emotional and physical strength to keep going. Sam hurries to his feet, "don't stop, Dean, you're doing great!" he says with a palm at him. 
"Don't stop," Dean repeats mindlessly, "don't stop." 
Sprinting towards the paramedics, Sam waves his arms, shouting, "Down here! We're down here!" before he knows it, a group of professionals sprint down the hill, the gurney in tow. One takes a story from Sam as one tries to pull Dean away so the other two can take over caring for Y/N. 
"No, I can't stop!" he cries, which grabs Sam's attention, "don't stop," he nearly whispers, hands pumping into Y/N's chest. 
Sam rushes over and lowers himself to Dean's level. "Dean, let go. It's okay, they'll take it from here," he says, grabbing onto Dean's hands to pull him off of Y/N. They watch the paramedics in shock as they cut the shirt, bra, and pants off of Y/N, inspecting her skin. The first responders put what look like stickers with wires attached to them onto her chest and pull out the AED, telling everyone to stand clear before delivering a shock with a beep. Then, there was a pause and the silence that follows is deafening. Nothing. They check for a pulse and call clear again, shocking her. Then, nothing. Again. 
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In the hospital's hallway, Dean tries to tune out the surround sound of constant beeping. His elbows rest on his scraped and bloody knees with his head held in his hands. He rocks back and forth, battling with himself. He sheds tears both out of fear for his sister's well-being and of guilt that he did the very thing he promised her he wouldn't: put her in danger.
The clacking of Sam's shoes pulls Dean from his homemade mental Hell. Dean lifts his head, quickly wiping his eyes before grabbing the cafeteria coffee. Sam's familiar smell of motel soap and deodorant washes away the torturous smell of hand sanitizer.
"Thanks," Dean mutters, taking a sip of the coffee before placing it next to him on the cold tile floor. 
Sam's eyes are red and puffy. Dean struggles to comprehend how Sam doesn't even try to hide the tears coming down. He often admires his brothers ability to wear his heart on his sleeve, though he'd never admit it. He wonders who he's being 'strong' for in this moment because it's certainly not himself.
Clearing his throat, Sam pulls his pants up slightly at the thighs before sitting on the bench next to Dean. He glances up at the ceiling momentarily, waiting for the announcement to end before asking, "Any news yet?"
Dean shakes his head. "No," he says in a raspy voice, forcing his eyes to look up and down the hall. "Excuse me," he says, standing to interrupt a nurse before she can enter a different room. "Would you mind helping us find whoever we need to talk to for an update on room 221?" he asks, gesturing to the door he hasn't been able to even look at since arriving.
Her eyes flutter to Sam, then the door, and back to Dean before she somberly nods. "Of course," she says, setting her pen back onto the clipboard as she turns to head in the direction she came.
Dean wants to return to his seat, but his body feels like an anchor. He sucks in a sharp breath. His shoulders tighten into his neck and with weak arms his hands fall to his hips. He hangs his head, clenching his teeth and pulling his face to suppress the tears. Sam jumps up to Stand with Dean, placing a hand tightly on his shoulder.
"She'll be alright," Sam says, not fully believing himself, "she's a Winchester; she has to be." 
Dean quickly straightens himself out because damn it, he's the one that's supposed to be taking care of his younger siblings - not the other way around.
"Sam and Dean Winchester?" a deep voice echoes the hall and they whirl around to greet the doctor. Dean quickly slaps the tears from his face. "I'm Dr. Ferguson," he says, holding his arm up to shake hands with Sam, then Dean. "Let's go somewhere more private to talk."
"We're good here," Dean spits. 
"Very well," the doctor sighs, looking down the hall behind him. He shuffles them closer to the wall and out of the traffic flow. "Well, while we were able to restart her heart, I'm afraid your sister has sustained a substantial injury to the head," he says, "the trauma caused the tissue around her brain to swell quite rapidly, and well, we have her on a ventilator, but," he lets out a breath, "we haven't seen as much progress as we were hoping for. She's technically in a coma right now, but we hope to see her come out of it in the coming weeks." 
"Weeks?" Dean bellows.
"Yes, I'm afraid that's standard recovery time for an injury of this magnitude. Although, we'd be having an entirely different conversation if not for your quick thinking in the field," he says with a tight-lipped smile, eyes jumping from Dean's to Sam's, "it's a long road to recovery, but this is a good start." 
"And what happens if she doesn't wake up?" Sam asks. 
"We will do everything in our power to ensure that doesn't happen," the doctor nods. 
"Thanks, doc," Sam croaks. "Can - can we see her?" he stutters. 
"Of course," he says, pushing the door open with his fingertips, "go on in," he says.  
Sam immediately notices Dean's hesitancy when they exchange a glance, so he nods before taking a few steps into the room. He covers his mouth to stifle a sob when he sees his little sister with a tube down her throat and one in her nose. When he's close enough, he reaches for her hand and sits in the chair beside her, startled by the sound of the door shutting. Dean slowly enters the room, but keeps his distance.
Dean feels like the air is void of oxygen and tells himself to pull it together enough to stand by her bed. "Hey kiddo," Dean says to Y/N with a shaky breath. "God, please be okay," he says, forcing a smile as he grips onto her hand.
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The two sit with Y/N for days, only leaving for bathroom trips and snack runs, but when one goes, the other stays, and when one is napping, the other is awake. Dean has grown slightly more self-composed but is still anxious as they stay by her side, even when the nurses come to deliver medications, chart vitals, or empty her catheter.
"Hey, Dean," Sam says, clearing his throat. 
"Yeah," he replies, keeping his eyes on Y/N. 
Sam looks down into his hands, "about my interview-" 
"Wait, what?" Dean says, cutting him off, "you're still gonna leave after all this?" he shouts through a clenched jaw. The chair scoots back in a screech as he quickly brings himself to his feet, "you don't wanna be here when she wakes up?" he asks, aggressively gesturing at Y/N. 
"Dean, we don't even know if she'll wake up," Sam quivers. 
"Man, you are a piece of work," Dean shouts, shaking his head. 
"If you would've let me finish," Sam growls with narrow eyes, "I was going to say that I called earlier… to reschedule it," he sighs, looking back at Y/N, "they were very understanding of the situation." 
"Oh," Dean says, turning on his heels to face away from Sam. He swipes a hand down his face, shaking his head when his eyes open to the white walls of the hospital's room. "Look, man, I'm sorry," he says, palms open and facing Sam. "This just has me on edge." 
Taking a few steps towards him, Sam holds back the urge to get nasty with Dean, telling him he's not the only one feeling 'on edge' about their sister's condition. Instead, he raises his palms and softens his face, "Me too. Believe me." 
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By Thursday, Y/N had graduated from a ventilator to an oxygen mask. Though still needing the feeding tube, she's shown glimpses here and there of the Y/N they know and love, but overall, she struggles to remain conscious. The doctors are calling it a 'Minimally Conscious State' and "completely normal with this type of recovery."
On Saturday, Sam heads out for food from a local restaurant at Dean's request - something about them having good pies - but Sam has a sneaking suspicion that Dean needs some time alone with Y/N, and Sam could use the fresh air anyway.
Sitting in the chair beside her bed, Dean holds one of Y/N's hands in both of his, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of her hand. "I'm so sorry I failed you, Y/N," he cries. "I should have been protecting you," he whispers, letting the tears fall freely now, "but instead of doing that, I got you into this mess."
Looking up at Y/N's face, he swears he sees a tear slip down her cheek. Despite being convinced he's imagining it, he reflexively draws his hand to wipe her tear away, gasping when it comes back wet. His heart races as he gently stands to get beside her in the bed. "Shh," he coos, wrapping his arm around her.
His eyes fall shut, and he's transported back in time to the almost seven-month period where she would only fall asleep if Dean were right there in bed next to her. Through tears and voice cracks, he sings Hey Jude in a whisper, occasionally reaching over to wipe her tears away.
"I love you so much," he whispers. "I don't know how to live without you," he says, his tears turning into sobs. "Please wake up," he cries, arm wrapped tightly around her, "I promise I'll teach you how to drive if you just please wake up."
~~~~ If you liked my story, please remember to heart, comment or reblog. Or if you'd like, you can add yourself to a tag list here if you wish :) Thank you for reading!! :)
Everything Tags <3
@wayardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @drakelover78 @soab1967 @shutupandfeedmethings @pollywantacracker666 @sonnierae26 @obsessed5sosfreak @tlovescoffee @noodledoodlebug @hobby27 @cluz1babe @emptycanvasposts @suckmyapplejacks @signrunsavestheday @flamencodiva @roseblue373
Dean <;3 @akshi8278 @squirrelnotsam @laxe-from-outer-space @ellewritesfix05 @cluz1babe @lyarr24 @mrspeacem1nusone @idksupernaturl @fandom-princess-forevermore @stoneyggirl @chaospossum @nachofriess
Sam <3 (not including the tags already above :) ) @fangirlxwritesx67 @immafangirlmess @sizekinkshawty
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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago
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Unexpected Love
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Pairing: Ash x Sister!Winchester!Reader
Summary: Ash is your mullet knight in flannel armor
Original Prompt: Requested by anonymous | Hiii, I saw you write for spn and I throught about making a request. Idk if you even remember Ash, he's seen in season 2 but for like, just 5 minutes in total so I'm not gonna be mad if you don't remember him, but I throught about asking you if you could write something for him with Reader that's Dean and Sam's little sister? You can write what you want, even something bite sized, I just feel like he's not appreciated enough 🥺 It's ok if you don't want to write it, and take your time if you do. Have a good day 💕
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: Cursing (1x), Fluff, Sam & Dean just being protective/supportive older brothers
Authors Note: Of course I remember Ash my anon friend! How could I not remember Doctor Badass? | Since you told me to write whatever I wanted, I decided to do a cute little romance between him and reader cause hey, he needs some love too! | He’s honestly one of my favs | I hope you liked how this came out! I never wrote Ash before, so I hope I was able to do his character justice! | Takes place in Season 2 obviously | Flashbacks are in italics | If you want to request something, just send me a message! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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Dating was something that was always particularly hard for you as you’ve been consistently on the road with your father and brothers since you were six months old. The four of you never staying in the same place long enough for you to ever form any kind of connection with anyone. In a way, you thought that it was a good thing considering this line of work, but at the same time, human connection was something that you craved, yearned for. Yes, you had a strong bond with your brothers (Sam more than Dean – twin power you know?), and kind of had a strong bond with your father, but the bonds that you had with the three of them weren’t particularly fulfilling for you. You always felt like there was something missing.
At one point when you were seven or eight, long before you had learned of the supernatural, you had asked your father once when the four of you were in the car if you could stay at Uncle Bobby’s for a while.
“I’m tired of moving around so much daddy. Can I stay at Uncle Bobby’s for a while?” You had told him, asked him; silence filled the impala, despite the music being so loud.
Sam turned to face you before turning to look at your father – you knew that Sam had felt the same way. Dean turned to look at you, craning his neck as he was in the front seat along with your father who was currently driving to the next motel. It would have been the third motel in less than two weeks. Your father looked into the rearview mirror, looking at you as you started playing with your thumbs. “I’m sorry…” You whispered.
When the four of you had gotten to the motel, Dean had practically pulled you to the side while your father and Sam had started bringing things into the motel room. “Why do you want to get away from dad so bad?” He asked, almost as if he was offended.
“I want to stay in one place longer than two days.” You said. “Motels smell funny.”
Dean scoffed. “So does Uncle Bobby’s house.”
That was the last time you had ever asked.
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Even if you had found yourself lucky to pull a date, something or someone would always get in the way. Either a hunt would take precedence, or one of your brothers (usually Dean) would “accidentally” interrupt the date. With either scenario, the guy you had landed the date with would either never call you make again – despite your efforts of trying to make something work or, they would outright tell you to never call them again.
As the years went by, you had simply come to the conclusion that you were destined to never find love, destined to spend the life on the road with your brothers as hunters.
“Come with me.” Sam said to you, a few weeks before he had told you, Dean, and your father that he was going to be leaving to go to Stanford.
“I can’t Sammy. I don’t have a full ride like you do.” You said. “Besides, he’d be too fucking worried if I went.”
“But we’d be together Y/N. It’s not like we’d be by ourselves.” He said. He wanted you to come with him, despite not really interested in the whole college thing; but he knew hunting was something that you had never wanted to do. You wanted that white picket fence life like he wanted.
“I can’t…leave Dean with dad.” You told him. As much as you had wanted to go with him, you couldn’t leave Dean and dad alone, as you were usually the buffer between them. Yes, they rarely got into fights but when they did…it got bad.
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You were fully prepared to do the whole one night stand thing for the rest of your life. At least you would have some kind of human connection, even if it was just for a little while. Hell, it’s been working out just fine for Dean, why wouldn’t it work for you? But that was until you met Ash.
Ash was an interesting person; someone that you thought you wouldn’t have ended up with. Despite knowing him less than a year, he was someone that you could actually imagine spending your life with (no matter how long that life span may be). You had first met him about a few months after the death of your father when your brother Sam was listening to your father’s voicemails.
“He’s always been so secretive.” You told them, upon hearing the sound of a woman’s voice in one of the voicemails – a woman that called herself Ellen.
“Think dad ever had a thing with her and it ended badly? Maybe that’s why he never told us about her.” Sam theorized.
His theory caused your other brother to give a disgusted look. “Gross, now I’m thinking of dad having sex.” Dean said, his voice sounding just as disgusted.
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“You are far too pretty to be with these two.” Was one of the first sentences that Ash had ever uttered to you. A sentence that had made you laugh, but a sentence that offended your eldest brother Dean the most.
The relationship between you and Ash was something that you honestly didn’t expect to happen. Not because he wasn’t your type, but because you had thought that there would be no possible way to maintain a relationship given the fact that you were always on the road.
“You know this isn’t going to work out right?” You had told Ash, the day you and your brothers had gotten back to the Roadhouse after completing the Rakshasa case.
Ash looked at you, trying his best to play it cool as your brothers were only standing within earshot. “That’s the beauty of technology. You’d only be a phone call away.” He said. Him saying this was something that you had never really thought about previously; but it was something that had made perfect sense to you.
“If someone wants to be with you kid, they’ll make the effort.” Bobby told you numerous times growing up. For years, it was a line you thought that he just said in order to make you feel better. But for the first time in your life, you realized that Ash was the only guy in your life (besides your brothers and your father) that had actually wanted to make the effort.
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“You and Ash still going strong uh?” Dean asked, leaning up against Baby.
“Uh, yeah.” You replied. “Still trying to get used to the whole long distance thing.”
“That’s fair.” He said. “At least you guys text and call right?”
“Yeah.” You nodded.
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Do you not want to talk about this? Thought this would be something you’d be all over.”
“Dean, you and Sammy have never been people I’ve spoken to about guys before. Nor have either of you really asked. Why the sudden interest in Ash and me?” Whenever you had crushes on people in the past, you had never once found yourself gunning to tell one of your brothers or your dad. You knew that it would only end badly; especially if you told your father or Dean.
He shrugged. “Can’t your brother just be interested in your relationship for once?”
“Not without ulterior motives he can’t.” You gave him a look, your brother automatically looking offended.
“Me? Have an ulterior motive? Honestly sis, I’m offended.” He scoffed.
“It’s kind of your MO brother.” You said. Dean opened up his mouth as if to say something; to try and get himself out of whatever hole he had dug himself into. But there was nothing that he could possibly say to get out of it. He instead just closed his mouth.
“Look, I’m just happy for you. Truly I am.” He actually sounded sincere. “You know me and Sammy just worry.”
“And you know just as well as I do that I can kick either of your asses.” You said. “I can take care of myself just fine. And Ash…neither of you have anything to worry about honestly.”
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“You know, I’ve been thinking Ash.” You said, sitting on the trunk of Baby while your brothers were inside of the motel room. Being outside was the only source of privacy that you could possibly have when being on the phone.
“What’s up Missus Badass?” He asked, hearing the smile in his voice.
“I was thinking, after we finally kill Yellow Eyes…I’m going to quit hunting.” You said. “How would Ellen and Jo feel about me working at the Roadhouse?” Your tone half joking and half serious. Ash was silent for a moment, more quiet than he normally was whenever he was on the phone. “Ash? I didn’t lose you did I?”
“No…No…” He began. “They’d love to have you.”
“Yeah?” You asked. “You know, I am very familiar with the workings of a bar.”
“If I didn’t know you so well, I would be concerned by that statement. But, since you are a Winchester, I ain’t the least bit surprised.” He said.
“Yeah. I’ve been hustling pool, and playing poker before I reached puberty.” You laughed a little. “As Sammy would say, the way we were raised was jacked.” You paused. “But hey, at least I met you.”
“Your mullet knight in flannel armor.” He said serious.
“Oh, I like the sound of that.” You smiled. The motel door opened, your brothers coming out. “I gotta go but…I love you.” You whispered the I love you. Hoping that it was just loud enough for Ash to hear, but low enough for your brothers not to.
Your I love you had caught him slightly off guard, but it was something that he enjoyed hearing you say. “I love you too.” He responded back. You were happy that he said it back, afraid that you might of said it too soon. For the first time in a long time, you had felt like you might actually get that happy ending you have always wanted: a life away from hunting.
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Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months ago
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Burn Out
Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.
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“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”
The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.
“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”
You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!
“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”
“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”
“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.
“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.
“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”
You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.
You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.
As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.
Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.
There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.
“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.
It was going to be a long day.
You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.
“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.
You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.
Dean: Where r u?
So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.
“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”
“But I was just—“
“Your phone, please.”
You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.
“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”
You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—
“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”
—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—
“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.
“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.
“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”
“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.
“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“
“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”
You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.
And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.
You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.
When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.
You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.
“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…
You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.
“Sam! She’s here!”
Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.
“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
“Dean, I—“
Dean wasn’t listening.
“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.
“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”
You ran past Dean, heading for the library.
“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.
He had enough of a mess to fix already.
No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.
After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—
“Y/N!”
You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.
“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.
“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“
You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.
“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”
You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.
“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”
“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“
“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”
“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.
“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”
“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“
“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”
“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”
You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.
“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”
“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”
“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”
You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.
“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.
“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”
Taglist:
@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz
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almondcroissantsandink · 1 year ago
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i don't even know what to say
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redbird-tf · 2 months ago
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Harmony
Sam winchester x younger sister x dean winchester
(More sam focused)
Summary: the brothers still had lots to learn about their sister, like the weight of her favorite harmony
Word count: 1.2k
Notes: the harmony i think of for reference
Warnings: angst, mention of death, violence
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To say it had been a tough day would be an understatement it had been a tough few months. You were having a hard time adjusting to finding out you had two brothers, Sam was struggling to step into the big brother role, and Dean seemed to be doing the best out of the three. Of course, Dean was shocked, but he had been a big brother for years. The only thing Dean struggled with was the guilt and anger that you had been in this life alone for years.Hunting together was also proving to be a challenge. Dean and Sam had teamed up for years, but your independent nature often clashed with their established rhythm, making hunts more difficult. It would take time before you could truly function as a team.
If the boys had learned anything about you it was that harmony you were always humming. It wasn’t from any song the boys recognized, but it was the same every time you hummed it. Sometimes they’d hear it even when you weren’t around, because of how ingrained it was in their mind. Right now it was serving as the source of Sam’s annoyance. “Y/n i can't focus with your humming” Sam snapped from the passenger seat. You were lying in the back half asleep and hadn't even noticed you were humming. You let out a huff, abruptly grumbling out a half-hearted “sorry” which seemed to irritate Sam more as he slammed his book shut. “You know what? I've had it up to here with you.” He exclaimed turning to face you. “What did i do!?” You shouted back sitting straight up. “UH, the bruise on my face!” He mocked pointing at his black eye. “Thats not my fault!” You rebuttal, furrowing your brows “It wouldn’t have happened if you had just followed the plan” he countered “Your plan didn't work!”
“Alright, enough!” Dean’s booming voice made you both fall silent. “We all messed up, alright? Now knock it off.” He stated firmly. The car stayed silent, but he could see you two exchanging glares from the corner of his eye “Stop looking at each other” Dean commanded, and in sync, you both slouched back with your arms crossed. “Why do I always gotta be the frick’n mom” dean mumbled under his breath.
———————
“This it, Sammy?” Dean questioned pulling over. Sam looked down at his map ���Route 46, the last spotting of a vampire was here” Sam stated stepping out of the car. “Got the dead man's blood?” Dean asked watching Sam sling the bag over his shoulder. Sam nodded leading the way into the woods. “I've never seen a vampire before” you whispered to Dean to prevent Sam from hearing you. “Well their not easy…” Dean paused seeing the flicker of worry in your eyes “Dead man's blood is about the only thing that will kill them, and they come in packs…but so do we” he explained trying to ease your obvious concern of messing up.
“Over here” Sam gestured for you to catch up. “Thats it?” You asked quietly, eyeing the old barn “There's only three in there” Sam said lowering his binoculars. You watched as they prepared their knives by dowsing them in blood, “be careful with that,” Dean stated handing you a dagger. You all crept to the back of the barn and snuck in through a cracked window. You dropped in a bit louder than intended, prompting Sam to shush you, annoyance flashing across your face. Tiptoeing over to the sleeping vampires. You loomed over them, waiting for Dean’s signal and when you got it, you pushed your danger hard into the vamp. He scratched hard into your arm but you held firm, only pulling away when you were sure he was down for good. You turned to your brothers “That was easier than expected”
You quickly realized you had spoken too soon as your body slammed violently intk the ground and your vision became a red blur. A burning sensation spread across your face and loud noises overwhelmed you, causing you to scream out for your brothers “i can't see! I can't see anything!” You cried in pure terror. The last thing you heard was sams voice drawing near before everything went black.
——————-
“It's been over three hours Dean” Sam's voice wavered while he paced back and forth. “She’ll be fine” Dean reassured him, adjusting the bandage covering your eyes before leaning back in the chair at your bedside. “What if she hit her head too hard?” Sam stuttered out. “She's fine,” Dean said sternly, though part of him was trying to convince himself. “We should take her to the hospital,” Sam insisted, balling his fist. “And say what, Sam? My sister got scratched across the face by a vamp” Dean explained the harsh truth. Sam sighed looking down at you, his lip quivering. “I'm gonna grab a beer,” Dean said, rising from the chair knowing he held it together much longer.
Once Dean had left, Sam knelt by your side and took your hand in his. Guilt gnawed him, knowing the last thing he did was yell at you for something as simple as humming. What's worse is that he knew you hummed to comfort yourself. A detail he had picked up on over the months. He’d watched you hum yourself to sleep, after hunts, or when the world felt overwhelming. Sam bit his lip feeling his eyes begin to gloss over. How could he have been so cruel? How could he call himself a big brother?
He closed his eyes and began to hum the familiar harmony, seeking his own solace within it. “Mom?” Your voice rang, barely louder than a whisper. Sams's head shot up “Y/n” he breathed out. His body flooded with Relief. “Sam?” You became confused as you abruptly sat up. “Woah, easy there,” Sam said placing his hands on your shoulder to steady you. “I-I can't see” stammered, panic creeping back in. “I know. You got hurt and we had to stitch you up. I can remove the bandage if you want” he explained gently in an attempt to soothe you. You nodded and Sam began to slowly unravel the bandages. You looked around and saw the bunker walls surrounding you, your eyes beginning to uncontrollably water. As the fabric fell away, you took in the bunker walls surrounding you.
Your figures brushed over the stitches on your face, tears beginning to well in your eyes. Your reaction was making Sam nervous “We did the best we could, it shouldn’t scar too bad” he tried to reassure you, but You stayed silent, your gaze dropping to your lap. “I thought i died, i thought..” you paused, “i thought you were my mom” you muttered. Despite the circumstances, a small laugh escaped Sam's lips “Why would you think that?” He asked with a slight smirk. “You were humming her melody” you stated blankly. Sams's smile dropped, and the guilt he didn’t know could grow any larger, grew “y/n, I'm sorry…i didn't know” he apologized, moving to sit next to you. You could hear the sincerity in his voice, but you couldn’t muster the strength to look him in the eye.
“She's awake?” A voice shattered the tension as Dean rushed to your side, unintentionally pushing Sam aside. He embraced you tightly “you gave us a scare there, kid” he breathed out with a chuckle. You mumbled a sorry into his shoulder before pulling away to meet sams gaze. The eye contact took him by surprise and it took him a moment to gather his words “y/n, I'm sorry for snapping at you, you didn't deserve that.” He watched as your gaze softened, but continued to press on“And…i won't hum that again, i didn't know” he explained lowering his head. You shook your head “No Sam, it's ok. You do it perfectly and…” he gazed up at you again, seeing a smile tug at your lips “It's comforting” Your tender tone washed away the heaviness in his chest. Sam mouthed a thank you, taking your hand in his as his thumb glided over your knuckles.
“Did i miss something?” Dean questioned glancing between you and sam, a hint of frustration that made you both laugh. “No no…i just” Sam stopped, taking a moment to appreciate the happy version of you that had replaced the distressed one he’d seen just moments before. “I'm just learning what it means to be a big brother” Sam expressed with a wide smile. Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah, then you can watch her while i get some shut-eye” he said, giving Sam’s shoulder a light pat. Sam tried to rebuttal, but Dean cut him off “you wanted to be the big brother, welcome to the job,” Dean teased. He shook his head until he felt you lean into him. He glanced over seeing how you relaxed against him. This is the brother he wanted to be.
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inlovewhithafairytale · 10 months ago
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POV: The Winchester's have a little sister
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jasmines-library · 9 months ago
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Hiii!! Firstly, I love your writing and I hope you’re having a great day!! I was hoping to request a Winchester sibling fic where the reader is really comforted by physical touch but is really observant and receptive to the fact their brothers are emotionally constipated and touch starved so the reader has never really asked for it but then one day either just a bad day or bad hunt and the reader just asks the boys to hold them or one of them to sit in the back of the Impala with them? Thank you so so much and I hope you have a lovely day!! 🫶
So close, yet too far.
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⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Summary: You just really need a hug.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Touch Starved, character death mentioned, swearing
p.s. Sorry for the long wait! I've got exams at the moment so they're taking up a lot of my time.
⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
Life as a hunter was never still. You were constantly moving. Constantly looking over your shoulder. Constantly chasing what could be your last day on earth. And you wouldn’t ever have said you regretted it. No. In fact, you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. Hunting creatures and saving the world? It was all You couldn’t have imagined a better life…
But sometimes you found yourself wanting life to just slow down for a minute. It was so hectic and you just needed a breath. A hug. With such a busy life, there was no time for just spending quality time with your brothers. Or anyone for that matter. It was an endless cycle: Wake up. Research. Hunt. Drive. Sleep. There was no time for sitting on the couch and watching cheesy movies together. Nor was there any time for curling up together like you used to do when you were smaller. You found yourself yearning for it. For a hug or simply just a gentle arm around your shoulder. It used to bring you so much comfort. But times were tough with all that had happened recently. The three of you were even more on edge than ever before. 
Your brothers had always told you that you could ask them for anything. That you could tell them whatever you wanted… but this wasn’t just something you could ask them for. You had seen how they often shunned away from touch. From relationships. Having seen so much pain and having lost so many people…they struggled to allow themselves to let their guard down enough to enjoy a tender moment. Even with you. So no matter how much you yearned for it you could never bring yourself to push the want from your mind and into words. 
So when the hunt went worse than you could have imagined you kept quiet. 
Dean’s hand was right there; peeking out from the hem of his flannel. His fingers were bloody and calloused, scarred and covered in small cuts and yet his touch was still tender. You felt your own fingers itch to reach out and lace them between his. You wanted for him or Sam to wrap you up in their arms and hold you close. To squeeze your hand. Or a shoulder. But you knew that they had much more pressing matters to deal with that overshadowed “needy little sister”. 
You trailed behind them, dragging your feet ever so slightly to kick up the dirt and leave trails between the orange leaves. You did not look up at your brothers because you knew you would see Dean's set jaw and Sam’s pinched eyebrows as they too mourned the hunt. 
A small boy had been caught by a shtriga. He had been no older than 5 or 6 with these big, blue eyes that got impossibly wider as the creature stalked toward him. And his scream…it pierced through the air like a beam of light: clear as day yet providing no clarity. No safety like light should bring. Instead it was cold and filled with a gripping terror. 
The three of you had been too slow. No matter how hard you dragged your stubborn limbs you couldn’t get to him fast enough. So now you trudged along in silence. 
The sight of Baby did not, in fact, provide you with the relief you thought it would. Instead the gleaming of the bonnet against the moonlight just made your stomach churn. You knew that you would all try to bury the memory in a box, deep in the back of your mind. But it was never that easy. They tried hard, but you would hear them late at night. Dean hardly slept as he tried to drink his troubles away and Sam barely left his room. And then there was you who lay awake staring blankly at the ceiling as you wept softly, wrapping your arms around yourself to curl up in a ball. It didn’t bring the same comfort as theirs did, like it had done when you were small and naive when you crawled into their bed after a nightmare. When things weren’t so fucking complicated. 
Tears pricked in the corner of your eyes as you reached for the metal handle. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t sit in silence to be left with your own thoughts. You couldn’t be alone. Not right now. 
“Sammy…”  Your voice was quiet. Hushed. Barely a whisper pushed out on cracked lips that trembled. 
Sam paused, his hand halfway between where he had been picking at the hem of his jeans and the handle of the passenger door. He lifted his head, humming softly in acknowledgement. 
“Sit with me… Please.”
“Of course.” His face melted and he moved in one swift movement. 
He slid in the backseat, leaning against the door frame and stretching out across the seats. He pulled you in to lean against his side, wrapping his arms around you. You lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into his side. And began to weep. 
“Kiddo?” Sam asked gently. “What’s up?” His hands traced small circles on your arm.
Dean reached over the back of the seat with a concerned look, though part of it could be easily mistaken for fear. “It’s not your fault, Sweetheart-” He started.
“Just…hold me. Please.” You clung onto Sam, your other hand reaching out to settle atop of Dean’s. Their touch was comforting, yet you couldn’t help the wavering as you wept. “I don’t want to be alone right now.” 
And so they did. Sam nestled you further into his side, tucking your head beneath his chin and Dean clambered out of his seat to join the two of you in the back. He settled down on your other side, sandwiching you between the two of you. And they held you. They ran their fingers through your hair, held your hand and spoke to you. They held you tight and the three of you stayed close together, with no intention of moving any time soon.
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
SPN TAGS:
@defonotashleyr
@aestheticdaisies
@xxrougefangxx
@hell-o-kittys
@inlovewhithafairytale
@harleycao
⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤
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ellieslittleburrow · 4 months ago
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Summary : John Winchester, your father, is protective of you
Warnings : swearing and cute John
A/N : should we write more John Winchester?
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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.
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@marvelfanfn2187a113
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WOO WOO, i hope yall made it to the end. See ya next time 🖤🖤🖤🥀🥀🥀
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outof-spite · 4 months ago
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WHERE ARE THEY
[07 August 2024, this is in Massachusetts btw! i was there for a conference]
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crocodilenjoyer · 10 months ago
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he's our little brother. take care of him.
anne carson - antigone / alec benjamin - if we have each other / dan pearce - single dad laughing: the best of year one / kodaline - brother
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deanspunchingbag · 1 year ago
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so you are gonna sit there and tell me claire doesn't just show up to the bunker at random times. sometimes covered in blood, sometimes yelling about needing help getting rid of a body, and sometimes just because she hasn't had a lead in a couple days and got bored. she makes jokes like 'it's giving daddy issues' and the boys get so mad because they cannot understand what the hell she is trying to say. that's usually followed by an old man joke, and cas saying something like 'having a difficult relationship with your father is probably the reason you tend to respond with violence over compassion'
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rustys-lodge · 1 year ago
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Requested by anon : Can you write a spn fic of dad sam/dean where she texts her dad from her room about needing help because depression gets really bad and she wants to self harm? And dad just helps her ride the wave and comforts her. Thank you
Warnings : Depression, self harm
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And without a single warning, the door to your room flew open. And there he was, standing with that empathetic smile on his face.
You'd believe it if you couldn't clearly see the worry glistening in his eyes.
"Is this where my beauty needs help for her sleep ?"
Your lips quivered and a whimper left your lips, causing your dad's shoulders to slump.
Nice try. But the wound is too deep to close up with a simple joke. And the joke is not funny. But your dad got the memo, since he flew to your bed and sat himself beside you.
"Scooch" He commanded before bringing your upper half over his chest. So you layed diagonally on the bed, with your back up to his chest, giving him scape to wrap his arms completely around your neck.
You needed that. Badly. And when your whimpers got louder, your dad hugged you tighter.
"It's bad, dad..." You choked on a sob.
"I know...kid...i know" Your father planted a kiss on your head. And his hands let you go....discreetly traveling down your arms.
He was checking to see if you'd flinch...that would mean you did it again. And you know this move because you've been through this as well.
Him randomly touching your arms, squeezing from time to time to see if it hurts you. At first you pretended like it didn't. But at some point, you realized there's no need to pretend. He knows.
"I didn't do it." You informed him and a slight sigh of relief hit your ear.
"That's my girl." Another kiss fell on the back of your back of your head. "Give me those hands."
You complied and your dad criss-crossed your arms and set your hands on your opposite shoulders, before bringing his own arms over yours.
"I'm here now, kid."
And as weird and narrow as it may have seemed. You were wrapped in a loving embrace.
And although your drowning thoughts were not ceasing, warmth flooded your body and your muscles tensed down...you hadn't slept in a while. It's been hard..Really hard.
With his arms still wrapped around your chest, your dad sung to you, considerably low, guiding you to sleep.
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Sorry for the never-changing ending. It seems that comfy fics cannot end any other way. Anyways, hope this helps someone on a lonely night !! ❤️❤️❤️⚘️⚘️⚘️
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 months ago
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Too Much (Little Sister Version)
Dean Winchester & little sister!reader
Requested by @redbird-tf
Synopsis: you have nightmares of dying like Mary, and you start to get really clingy with Dean.
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It started out in a subtle way. Your first nightmare had been vague, and though it had jarred you, it wasn’t enough to curb your day-to-day activities…much.
“I’m going for a supply run.” Dean’s words had you looking up from the homework you’d been working on. “We’re out of beer…and food.”
“I’ll come.” You were on your feet before the words even left your mouth.
“It’s just a quick run,” Dean argued. “Don’t you have homework?”
“It can wait,” you insisted, already on your way to the Impala. “Let’s go!”
Of course it would be Dean—it had always been Dean. Sure, he had his anger issues and his bad moments. He drank too much and he isolated himself when he was upset. But he always came back; when Sam was at Stanford, when dad disappeared, it was always you and Dean.
So when you started having nightmares about burning on the ceiling, Dean was who you turned to.
Scary things shouldn’t phase you anymore, not after all you’d seen. But this was different. Your whole life you’d heard “what happened to mom.” Never any specifics—it was always, “the demon killed mom,” or “what the demon did to Mary.” Nobody ever gave you any details; they always said you didn’t need to know.
So when you snuck into Dean’s room in the bunker and stole dad’s journal, you were in for a surprise.
The pages you’d read had been stuck together—it didn’t look like anyone had read them—and it took you a moment to peel them apart.
I went to visit a shrink today—I thought he might be a vampire. I went in undercover, booked myself an appointment. I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t a monster, but I didn’t leave. It sounds stupid, but I actually talked to him. Told him about Mary. Well, as much as I could tell, which is more than I’ve told anyone. Point is, he told me to write down what happened to her. Every detail I could remember. I don’t like thinking about her…but maybe he was right. Little Sammy asked about Mary just the other day, and I yelled at him. I still feel bad…it’s not his fault, he’s just a kid. Maybe this is the only way I’ll be able to talk about her, but maybe that’ll be enough to keep me from going off on the kids. So here goes…
And John had laid out every gory detail of that night, and you’d read the whole thing. You’d always thought it would be better knowing; that it would somehow bring you some extra closure to know how your mother’s final moments went. You were wrong.
And so came the nightmares. The first one was fuzzy and indistinct; a fire, the sound of screaming. But it was enough to have you going with Dean whenever he left the bunker.
The second one was more vivid. It was also when you realized that it wasn’t your mother you were dreaming about—it was you.
It was so real—you felt the demon’s powers slashing open your stomach, you felt your body lifting off the floor…
But the worst part was the heat. It stung your eyes and sizzled against your blood and seared your skin. You tried to scream, but the smoke choked you and stopped your voice. You struggled to inhale, coughing on the smoke and crying at the pain that lit up every nerve ending.
The bright light of the fire left first, then slowly afterwards the pain. But you were still choking and gasping for breath when you sat up in your bed.
“Dean,” you whimpered, the lone word echoing through your empty room. You weren’t quite used to the bunker yet—you were so used to the motels, where your brothers were right next to you at all times. Most of the time it was annoying, but right now…
You threw your covers off you, finally getting a hold of your runaway breathing as you padded barefoot towards your door. You couldn’t stay in this room—it was this room that you’d dreamt of, this ceiling that you’d burned on.
You flung your door open and started down the hall, but you only got halfway to Dean’s room before you stopped. You couldn’t go to him like this, a tear-streaked mess in the middle of the night; he would know something was wrong, and then you’d have to talk about it.
You couldn’t talk about it.
A bang from the kitchen stole your attention and your breath, your mind wandering towards images of a yellow-eyed intruder. You tip-toed to the kitchen, peaking around the corner and breathing easily when you saw Dean rummaging in the fridge for a beer.
You slipped into the kitchen, heading straight for Dean.
“You’re up early,” he greeted, stiffening in surprise when you wrapped your arms around him. “Hey, something wrong?”
“No,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “Good morning,” you added lamely as you pulled away, as if the greeting would explain away the hug.
“Yeah, mornin.” Dean shrugged, choosing to ignore your strange behavior. “Couldn’t sleep? It’s only 5.”
It was later than you’d thought.
“Not really,” you said. “Can we make breakfast?” You weren’t hungry, but you’d take any excuse to keep Dean close.
“Only if you get the bacon,” Dean said with a grin.
“I think we’re out,” you answered.
“Unacceptable,” Dean decided. “You start on the pancakes, I’ll make a run.”
“Wait! Um…” you wracked your brain for an excuse. “Um, the pancakes can wait, I’ll go with you.”
Dean squinted ever so slightly as he stared you down—that was twice in a week that you wanted to go with him to the store without a good reason.
“You sure you’re ok?” He asked.
“Yeah, just…I want some fresh air.”
“Alright.” You both knew he didn’t believe you, but neither of you brought it up again.
You felt pathetic as you trailed behind Dean, but the idea of sitting around the empty bunker alone until he got back or Sam woke up…
You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own home, without Dean around.
You sat just a little closer to Dean than you normally would once you got into the Impala, sitting towards the middle of the seat even though the right side was empty. You felt Dean watching you from the corner of his eye, but to your relief he didn’t say anything.
“Ok, so how many pounds do we want?” You held a brand of bacon in each hand, eyeing them both. When Dean didn’t respond to your question, you turned around to find the cart there, but no Dean. “Dean?” You glanced up and down the aisle, but he wasn’t in sight. You threw both bacon packages into the cart and ran down the aisle, going down the row and looking frantically down every aisle you passed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.
You rubbed a hand against your chest when your next breath wouldn’t go through your tightened wind pipe. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one was less satisfying than the last. Once you reached the last aisle with still no Dean, you turned around and started back the way you came, hoping that he was down an aisle on the other side of the store.
“Dean? Dean!” You were calling his name, but you could barely even hear your winded and squeaky voice in the vast emptiness of the store, so you knew there was no way Dean could.
You passed the aisle with your cart and kept going, looking down the first, then the second…
“Dean!” You rushed forward, flinging yourself into Dean’s surprised embrace.
“Hey, what happened?” Dean was stiff and alert, whipping his head around to see what had spooked you.
“I couldn’t find you,” you whimpered, tightening your arms around Dean’s midsection. “I-I didn’t know where you went. Don’t do that to me!”
“Ok, ok hey I’m sorry,” Dean soothed, pulling away and kneeling down, brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. “C’mon, what’s going on with you? What’s got you so spooked?”
You didn’t answer—you just launched yourself forwards and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck, burrowing your head against his shoulder.
“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded.
“Ok, ok.” Dean held you closely, rubbing your back. “Ok I’m right here kiddo. Let’s get out of here, ok? Let’s go home.”
You held Dean’s hand in vice grip on the way out to the car, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited until you were safely bundled into the Impala to speak again.
“Kid, you need to tell me what’s going on here.”
“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Dean glanced at you, but he didn’t speak again.
You were feeling lucky for most of the day—Sam and Dean spent the morning going through books in the library, so you were able to do your homework right next to Dean without warranting worry or attention.
“Check this out.” Sam’s words to Dean had you looking up curiously while Sam turned his computer around. “Looks like a case in town.”
Your heart dropped to your toes—you were too young to hunt, so a hunt in town meant that you sat in the bunker while the boys were out.
They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the case before they got ready to head out. Dean was throwing guns in a bag in his room when you went to find him.
“We’ll be back tonight,” Dean promised. “But if we find the thing that’s killing these people, it might not be until late, so don’t wait up ok?”
“Can’t I come?” Your tug on Dean’s sleeve stopped his movements.
“You know you can’t,” he said. “What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing, because I know something’s wrong.”
“I just don’t want you to go,” you said. “Please De? Please don’t leave me here alone.”
“You’re not gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked.
You shook your head.
“Then I have no choice.” Dean sighed. “People are dying, and you can’t come. I have to go.” Dean zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be back before tomorrow.”
“Dean—“ you reached out for your big brother, but in one stride he was out of your reach, then to the door, then he was gone.
You were trying to read the same page over and over, but the words were swimming around the page, blurred by the tears in your eyes and the shaking in your hands that had the pages fluttering. You looked up for the millionth time, a deep pit in your stomach convincing you each time that the yellow eyes demon would be standing in your doorway, waiting to kill you.
You dropped the book on your desk with a thud, finally giving up on homework—you wouldn’t get anything done until Dean was home, you just couldn’t focus.
You picked up your headphones and slipped them over your head, but you found that not being able to hear your surroundings made your anxiety even worse, and the soothing notes of your favorite song did nothing to help for once. You tried turning on the tv, but you found that you couldn’t look away from the door for more than a few seconds before you started to get scared again.
Finally you couldn’t take it anymore—you closed your room door, your bathroom, and even your closet; open doors just had your imagination running away with images of yellow eyes coming to kill you.
You burrowed yourself under the covers and tried to force yourself to sleep. Hour after hour you convinced yourself that you’d just never be able to sleep, but you didn’t have anything else to do but keep trying, so you didn’t move.
You were still laying there when the door opened.
“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. You smiled at him, and he smiled back for a second before the smile faded. “Me and Sammy have another case—we’re gonna be gone a while, ok?”
“No, wait!” You tried to get up to stop Dean, but you couldn’t move. “Dean, don’t go! Dean don’t leave!”
He was already out the door, and in his place stood Azazel, pale yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.
“Dean!” You screamed, but it was too late; your pajamas were already soaked in blood coming from a painful gash across your stomach. You whimpered, finally able to move as you wrapped your arms around the wound as if you could protect yourself. You couldn’t.
You were sobbing as your body lifted off the ground, your stomach lurching as you went from wall to ceiling. There was no warning spark, or small flame—you were just suddenly and completely engulfed in flames, your hair burning and your skin scorched. You were still screaming when Dean came running back into the room.
“Dean,” you whimpered. “Dean no!”
Yellow eyes had a knife in his hand, and he turned it on your big brother in an instant. As the fire burned around you, you watched as Dean got stabbed again and again and again…
You woke up screaming. The fire was gone, and so was the pain, but you couldn’t even tell. Your eyes couldn’t take in a single detail of the room—they were blurry and unfocused from sleep. Your brain couldn’t decipher what parts of your dream were real and what weren’t. You sobbed out short and shaky breaths, and your cries were just starting to fade into whimpers when you heard it; the loud thunk of the bunker door closing.
Your fears and your crying returned full force, and you were gasping for breath as you felt around for any kind of weapon.
He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming he’s coming…
It was like all you could see was Azazel as you heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. You wanted to do what Dean always did—push his fear down, throw away his emotions, and just fight—but you couldn’t. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t stop sobbing, and you couldn’t find your gun.
When your door handle started to turn, you thought you were going to pass out. Your already-unsatisfying breath caught in your throat, and with the lack of breath came black spots at the edges of your vision.
You forced a single deep breath in and out—you couldn’t be unconscious when the demon came to kill you, you couldn’t be that helpless. You had to fight, even though you would lose.
The door swung open, and you were still gasping for breath and grappling for any kind of weapon when—
When Dean walked in.
“Dean!” You were off the bed and in your brother’s arms before he had a chance to speak.
“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Dean’s arms tightened around you when he heard you sobbing and felt you shaking. “Baby what happened?”
“Don’t leave me,” you begged between sobs. “Don’t leave me De, don’t leave me.”
“Ok, ok I’m not going anywhere,” Dean promised. “N/N I’m right here.”
“What’s going on?” Sam walked into the room, staring at his siblings with concern.
“I…I think we’re ok here,” Dean decided, carrying you to your bed. “You should go bandage that cut, I’ve got her.” When Sam hesitated, Dean assured him, “I’ve got her Sam.”
Sam finally left, and Dean climbed up on your bed, settling you into his lap when you wouldn’t let your vice grip around his neck go.
“I need you to talk to me,” Dean pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on, what this is.”
“There was fire,” you whimpered, your tears soaking Dean’s shirt. “There was fire, and it burned everywhere, and I was bleeding and I was on the ceiling, and-and yellow eyes stabbed you, and—“
“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Dean started to rock you back and forth subconsciously. “Hey, how do you know about all that stuff.”
“I’m sorry.” You were sobbing again. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I read his journal and he wrote down everything and I thought it would help but…but now I can’t stop dreaming about it. I’m so—I’m so scared, De. All the time.”
“Shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here. Listen,” Dean tried to pull away so he could look at you, but you just tightened your grip. “Ok. I used to have nightmares about mom, too. All the time. I still get them sometimes.”
“You do?” You sniffled. “What do you do about them?”
“Well now it’s easier, because we killed yellow eyes. He’s gone, N/N. Nobody’s ever gonna die like mom did again, especially not you. You know that, right?”
“The dreams feel so real,” you answered.
“I know, I know they do. But they’re not. And I’m gonna help you through this, but kiddo, I can’t be around all the time, you know that. I’ve got a job to do.”
“O—ok,” you sniffled. “I can do better.”
“But I’m still gonna be here when you need me. I promise.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“I need you right now.”
Dean’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter around you.
“Then I’m here for you.”
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lambmotifz · 7 months ago
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the way he sits there like a pretty princess looking at his big brother with these bambi doe babygirl eyes...yeah i get why dean is so possessive of him and would kill and die for him without question, i’d too
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completelymindfucked · 7 months ago
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Hot take, Sam went through a cross dressing phase as a teenager that wasn’t really a phase.
Like, he’s tired hasn’t been sleeping good due to nightmares and he accidentally mixes the clothes up with some random girls and doesn’t realize until he gets to the motel. Yet even then he doesn’t try to give it back, he would look like a creep! That’s what he told himself anyways and not because the pink tank top with the words “pretty girl” in glitter across the chest caught his eye the most. Then Dean finding out ? UGH how can he ever be disgusted or angry with Sam when he’s sat on the bathroom floor giving him puppy eyes while wearing said tank top AND this tiny little frilly skirt ? Plus it’s just sam, he can’t ever be mad at sam.
So Dean obviously starts swiping things from thrift stores for Sammy, from panties to pretty hair accessories cause if Sam is gonna dress up then big brother is gonna make sure he’s got everything he needs to be pretty. Then Dean thinking sam stops doing it while he’s at collage only to break in and find Sam dressed in a silky little nightgown that barely reaches his thighs and the chest part looks like it could rip at any moment cause it’s not the size for a now grown man.
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inlovewhithafairytale · 8 months ago
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01 x 01 Pilot part 1
"You're waiting in the car" is the first thing Dean says when he parks the '67 Chevy Impala in front of the apartments where their brother lived.
Yn scrunched up her nose and furrowed her eyebrows "dude. Why?"
"Cause I say so"
"Why do you get to see him before me? Its not fair" Yn says not backing up as her oldest brother got out of the car.
"Just stay in the car" Dean says slamming the car door shut behind him and making his way to the apartments.
The 15 year old leaned back against the car seat crossing her arms over her chest with a pout "not fair" she mumbled to herself.
****
Yn had nodded off to sleep resting her head against the car window as she waited for her brothers hoping that Sam would go with them.
"Why did you even leave her in the car?" Sam asked Dean as he walked next to him to the parking lot.
"She was sleeping" Dean lied. Truth be told, he didn't want Yn to get her hopes up to Sam coming, he knew that she missed their brother horribly and had cried herself to sleep when he first went away to Stanford.
Yn woke up to her brothers voices and the sound of the cars trunk being open. She grinned widely when she heard Sam's voice and quickly opened the car door and rushed to Sam jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly as she let out a series of happy squeals.
"Sammy I missed you so fucking much" she said as Sam laughed hugging her tightly back and giving her a spin before setting her back on the ground.
"I missed you so much too Yn. Wow, you've grown so much!" Sam looked her up and down a smile on his face as he looked at his little sister.
"Yeah. She turned 15 two months ago" Dean cut in a with an edge to his words.
"Dean. I know" Sam answered glaring slightly at his brother.
"But that doesn't matter. We're here" Yn cut in giving Dean a reproach in her look, turning back to Sam "so...are you coming with us to search for dad?" She asked him eyes begging him to come.
"Yes, but i have to be back by Monday" came Sam's reply as he ruffled her hair up a bit.
Yn pouted a bit at his words "oh well I guess"
"Yn, get back in the car" Dean told her.
"Why?" She asked turning to him eyebrows furrowed.
"I want to talk with Sam and you're on the way. Car. Now" Dean said closing the back of the car.
Yn have a dramatic sight "fine...." she muttered and got back in the car arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face. When she walked behind Dean she stuck her tongue out at him making Sam stifle a laugh.
***
Dean knocked on the car window of the backseat startling Yn awake who sat up from the seat rubbing her eyes "what? Where are we?" She said groaning as she opened the car door.
"On our way to Jericho right now on a gas stop. Go to the bathroom" Dean said handing her a bottle of pear juice and a bag of cheese puffs "breakfast" he said simply and turning to Sam who was sitting shotgun he gestured to the other bag of chips he was holding"breakfast?"
Sam scoffed "no. How do you even give that to Yn?"
"Eh. I'm used to it." Yn said shrugging as Dean glared at his brother. Yn out her bag of chips and bottle of juice down on the leather seat and got out of the car stretching "I'm going to the bathroom" she said groaning a bit and walking past Dean into the small gas stop.
"How do you even buy stuff? Still on the credit card schemes?" Sam asked knowingly.
"Well, hunting isn't exactly a paying job" Dean shrugged as he walked to the other side of the car and got into the drivers seat.
"What names did you use this time?"
"Bert Afrahiam and his loving kids Hector and Evangeline Afrahiam" came the smug reply.
Sam gave a snort and a shake of his head turning his attention back to the cassette collection box Dean had "dude. You need to update your cassette collection. Black Sabath? Metallica? Ac/Dc? Who even listen to those anymore?"
"House rules Sammy, driver picks the music, shotgun shuts their cakehole" Dean said taking one of the cassettes and putting it on the radio.
"Sammy it's a chubby 8 hear old. Its Sam."
"Sorry. Can't hear you. Music's too loud" Dean said as he turned the music up, back in black playing loudly through the speakers.
The backseat door opened and Yn slipped in wincing slightly at the loud music. "Dude. Lower it down a little"
"House rules booger driver picks the music and-" Dean start again as he drove away from the gas station.
"Yeah but backseat gets to lower the music. Tune it down a bit, I've got a headache" Yn said rolling her eyes a bit at him
Dean complies and puts the volume down just a little.
Sam turns to her a bit of concern flashing through his face "you've got a headache?"
"No. But I'll get one if Dean keeps putting the music so loud"yn answered
Dean rolled her eyes at her through the rear view mirror "just eat your vegetables"
"Yeah dad..." yn said mockingly as she opened her bag of cheese puffs and started eating.
***
Part two ... Flashbacks.a.k.a. younger years before season 1
if any of you have any ideas I am all ears <333
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