#sam winchester is not your therapist

[scoobydoodean]

I just wish he trusted me. Tell me again how weak I am. How I hold you back.

Supernatural | 4.08, 4.10, 4.14, 4.15, 4.16, 4.18, 4.21

[batcavescolony]

S4 E8 Supernatural

Careful what you wish for, literally. Them being teddy bear doctors and the bear gaining sentience and automatically having an Existential Crisis cus the world is horrible. The amount of Disney stars on Supernatural, Calum Worthy was in this one. Sam wants Dean to tell him about hell, but Dean doesn't want to. Dean isn't handling it well, and he's leaning heavy on the alcohol.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Long-Distance Call | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of arguing, angst, everyone's saying things they don't mean, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5056

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For hours most nights recently, you watched Dean sleep. In the dim light coming in through the cheap curtains in motel rooms, you would make out the details of his face and trace your eyes along them. He was just so beautiful, and you considered yourself incredibly lucky for every day you got to spend with him; despite the fact that those days were coming to an end. 

Dean knew you hadn’t been sleeping, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him why. 

Sam was driving himself crazy talking to witch doctors, professors, and demonologists trying to wrap his head around a way to break Dean’s deal. You didn’t get involved, though; you knew it was futile to do so. 

You weren’t sure if feeling helpless and knowing the situation was helpless was better than feeling helpless and trying to gain control of the situation, but you knew Sam probably felt as horribly as you did. 

“Y’know, someday, if we ever get a house— it could happen!” you assured Dean off his skeptical look. “We should get a couch. It’d be better for our backs than sitting on Baby or these shitty mattresses.”

You sat up facing Dean who lounged on the headboard in your shared motel room. Tension had been high between the brothers recently, and you decided it was best for the three of you to bunk separately. 

“You are annoyingly optimistic, you know that?” he replied. 

“I like to think of myself as more of a realist,” you returned. “But I’m trying to be more like you lately.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked. His eyes held such an intensity when he looked at you. 

In vulnerable moments like these, you couldn’t bear to look back at him. You opted for looking down at the mattress or, really, anywhere other than his face. “I mean, your whole thing is being annoyingly biting and sarcastic and— I mean, you just have the most amazing sense of humor— even when things suck major ass. And I don’t know how you do it. But… it’s admirable.” When your eyes returned to his face, he was looking at you with such pride and admiration. 

“What?” you asked.

“I just love you,” he said. 

You grinned widely and reached for his hand. You held it for just a moment before speaking again. “When are you gonna tell Sam?”

“What?”

“That we can’t save you.”

He sighed. “(Y/N)—”

“No, Dean, he deserves to know.” You shifted to your knees from your cross-legged position. “He’s on a wild goose chase instead of enjoying the time he has with you.”

“He’s a grown man, he can make his own choices,” Dean insisted, hand retreating from yours. He crossed his arms over his chest.

You gave him a look. “And maybe he’d make different choices if he had all the information about the situation available to him.”

“Alright, professor, no need to lecture me,” he grumbled, getting out of bed.

“Dean—! Don’t get mean just because you’re pissed at yourself and this whole situation,” you said, standing to face him. “Look, I’m only saying something because I don’t want the last few weeks of your life to be spent fighting with your brother.”

“Way to put that in perspective, (Y/N), thank you,” Dean spat. 

“See, this is when your attitude pisses me off beyond belief,” you argued. “I’m trying to have a conversation with you, and you’re being a complete dick. This didn’t have to turn into a fight, and I’m not understanding why it did!”

“Because you’re my girlfriend, not my fucking therapist,” he responded. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live my life.”

“Okay, this clearly isn’t about me.” You shook your head, turning away from him to grab your shorts and shoes. 

“Then, what’s it about, (Y/N)?” 

You turned back to him. “Clearly, this is about your deal.” “Oh, my god,” Dean scoffed.

“You’re runnin’ out of time. You’re scared, and you’re lashing out. It’s crap. I only wanna help you because I love you,” you told him. “And I’m not gonna tolerate you getting mean with me just because I told you something you didn’t wanna hear.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked, seeing you stomp toward the door. 

“Out,” you replied. “Don’t follow me.”

***

That night, after yet another argument, you convinced Dean to let you sleep in his car and have him take the bed because you knew you wouldn’t get much sleep anyway. You were hurt and angry, but you missed holding Dean. You missed memorizing his features while he slept and finally seeing him at peace. 

And the next morning, the situation was no better. Now, instead of Dean and Sam fighting, it was you, Dean, and Sam fighting. 

Sam had gone to talk to another person about how to potentially break Dean’s deal. “So, the professor doesn't know crap.”

“Shocking,” Dean commented. “Pack your panties, guys, we're hitting the road.”

“What? What's up?” Sam asked. 

“That was Bobby.” He gestured to the phone he’d just hung up. “Some banker guy blew his head off in Ohio, and he thinks there's a spirit involved.”

“So, you two were talking a case?” 

“No, we were actually talking about our feelings. And then our favorite boy bands,” Dean replied dryly. “Yeah, we were talking a case!”

“Dean, stop being an ass,” you scolded. 

“Well, get Sam to stop asking stupid questions.” Sam huffed. “So, a spirit? What?”

“Yeah, the banker was talking about some sort of electrical problems at his pad for like a week. Phone was going haywire, computer was flipping on and off,” Dean explained. “This is not ringing your bell?” He pressed when Sam looked at him skeptically. 

“Well, sure, yeah. But, Dean, we're already on a case,” the younger one replied. 

“Whose?” Dean asked. 

“Yours!”

“Right. Yeah. Well, you coulda fooled me,” the older scoffed. 

“What the hell else have we been doing lately other than trying to break your deal?” Sam protested. 

“Chasing our tails, that's what. Sam, we've talked to every professor, witch, soothsayer and two-bit carny act in the lower forty-eight. Nobody knows squat! And we can't find Bela, we can't find the Colt. So until we actually find something, I'd like to do my job.”

“We should summon Ruby,” Sam suggested. 

“I'm not gonna have this fight with you.” Dean shook his head. 

Sam continued anyway. “She said she knows how to save you.”

“About that, Dean has something he wants to tell you.” You turned to your partner expectantly with your arms folded. 

“What?” Sam asked, looking between the two of you. 

Dean was giving you a glare which you returned. 

“Dean, what?” Sam asked again. 

“She can’t save me,” Dean answered finally, still holding your glare. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam turn back to you. “(Y/N)—?”

“She told us she can’t save him, Sam,” you admitted. 

Sam turned his anger toward you. “Whoa, so you’ve known this whole time and haven’t told me?” 

“It wasn’t mine to tell, Sam!”

“Yeah, but the both of you still kept a secret from me,” he responded. 

“You really wanna talk about who's keeping secrets from who?” Dean snapped. 

You turned to the car. 

“Where are you going?” Dean called after you. 

“Guess we’re going to Ohio.”

***

You were silent for the entirety of the ride to the deceased’s house. Dean and Sam only spoke to make a snarky remark directed at each other or at you, but you refused to respond. 

You asked the woman what happened to her husband, and she reluctantly told you that he kept talking to a woman named Linda on the phone. However, there was no one on the other line when she would pick it up to check. 

Curious about who this woman could have been, you and the brothers returned to the motel to research. 

“Linda's a babe. Or, was,” Dean commented. 

Your heart dropped. You knew he was kidding, but now was so not the time to make jokes like that. “Don’t say shit like that, please.”

“She’s dead, (Y/N),” he replied dryly. “Don’t be jealous.”

“I just think it’s in really poor taste to say that right now considering the state our relationship’s in,” you told him, trying to remain as calm as possible. 

He slammed his laptop shut. “Are you seriously picking a fight with me over this? Right now?”

Sam interrupted before you could respond. “Oh-kay! That’s enough. Who’s Linda?”

“Linda Bateman.” Dean turned his eyes away from you. “She and Ben Waters were high school sweethearts.”

“So what happened?” Sam asked. 

“Drunk driver hit them head on. Ben walked away.”

“So, what then? Dead flame calls to chat?” Sam wondered aloud.

“You would think, but Linda was cremated. So why's she still floating around?”

“You got me,” Sam shrugged. 

“What about that, uh, caller I.D?” Dean asked his brother, referring to the number he’d found on Ben’s phone. 

“Turns out, it's a phone number,” Sam replied. “It's about a century old, back from when phones had cranks.”

“So, why use that number to reach out and touch someone?” Dean returned. 

“Got me there too, but we should put a trace on it.”

“Well how the hell are we going to put a trace on something that's over one-hundred years old?”

Sam suggested that the three of you should head to Ben’s phone company’s local office posing as representatives of their headquarters. 

“You guys go ahead without me,” you said. 

“Oh, c’mon, (Y/N)—”

You cut Dean off. “No. Both of us need space before we kill each other. So, please. Go.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled and stormed out of the room.

Sam stayed behind with you for a moment. “I’m sorry about him,” he said.

You sniffled, wiping away tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “It’s okay. Just a rough patch, I guess. Call me when y’all have something.”

He nodded and pulled you into a hug. Sam placed a quick kiss on the crown of your head before following his brother out of the door. 

***

Sam called to inform you that the number had called over a dozen people multiple times over the last week. So, you and the Winchesters split up to investigate. Without a car, you stayed in the motel room and called the numbers Sam had forwarded to you posing as a representative of the phone company. One of the people you’d spoken to said that he’d been hearing his deceased brother calling him to reconcile the broken relationship they’d had when his brother passed away. 

Just as you hung up the phone with him, Dean burst into the room and immediately started pacing. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. 

Dean didn’t answer. 

Sam sat at the table in the room. “He said our dad called him.”

“No fucking way,” you breathed out. “You really think it was him?”

“I don't know, maybe,” Dean grunted. 

“Well, what did he sound like?” Sam asked. 

“Like Oprah!” the older brother snapped. “Like Dad; he sounded like Dad, what do you think?”

“What did he say?” you questioned. 

“My name,” Dean replied. 

“That’s it?” Sam pressed. 

“Call dropped out.”

You shook your head and folded your arms, sitting cross-legged on Sam’s bed. After the recent fights with Dean, you’d decided to get a room separate from the two brothers and had been hanging out in their room all day. “Why would he even call in the first place, Dean?”

“I don't know, (Y/N)! I’m not a fucking psychic,” he snarked. “Why are ghosts calling anybody in this town? But I mean, other people are hearing from their loved ones, why can't we? It's at least a possibility, right?”

You wanted to chew him out for snapping at you like that, but you truly had no energy to put up another fight. 

“Yeah, I guess?” Sam replied in your place. 

“Okay, so what if....” Dean trailed off, only looking at his brother. “What if it really is Dad? What happens if he calls back? What do I say?”

“Hello,” you suggested. 

“Hello?” he scoffed. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. 

“That's what you come back with. Hello?” Dean continued. 

“Fuck off, Dean,” you sneered. 

Dean huffed, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the door. 

Sam shot you a puppy-dog-eyed look and turned to the door to stare after his brother. 

You sighed and buried your face in your hands. 

“(Y/N)?” 

You picked your head up. 

“What’s happening to you guys?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, tearing up. “We started fighting ‘cause I told him to tell you about the whole ‘Ruby’ thing, and I said some mean shit, and he said some mean shit, and it’s just a mess now.”

Sam gave you another puppy-dog-eyed look. 

“It’ll be fine, though. I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

If it was even possible, Sam’s face dropped even further. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled lopsidedly, knowing he just didn’t know how to help. “Can we talk about something other than my boy drama?”

Sam nodded. “Sure.” 

***

For the next few hours, you scoured the internet for information on the “SHA33” number that was calling these poor people. 

Dean returned with caustic remarks to spare. “Find anything?” he asked Sam while pretty much blatantly ignoring you. 

“After three hours, I’ve found no reason why anything supernatural would be going on here,” Sam sighed, shutting his laptop. 

“Me neither, Dean, thanks for asking,” you said. 

“Well, you know, you think a Stanford education and a high school hook up rate of zero-point-zero would produce better results than that,” Dean scoffed at Sam.

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned, hoping to elicit some sort of a response from Dean. 

He shot you a glare, but other than that, he said nothing. Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet. “Motel pamphlet rack.” He dropped it on the coffee table along with a few books. “Milan, Ohio. Birthplace of Thomas Edison.”

“So what?” you asked. 

Sam grabbed a book and leafed through it. 

Dean just raised his eyebrows at you as Sam looked up from the book. 

“You're kidding,” he said. 

Dean smirked as his brother. 

***

Well, a huge waste of time was the only thing Dean’s suggestion led to. The tour you went on at a museum showed the invention Thomas Edison believed could communicate with spirits and informed you that he was a devout occultist. However, the “spirit phone” didn’t set off the EMF detector. 

Sleep refused to claim you. Your anxiety kept your mind racing through the long hours of the night. You sat at the table in your room staring at the door just waiting for Dean to knock. However, despite it being three in the morning, he hadn’t come yet. Your fights had all been stupid and petty, but both of you were too stubborn to be the first to admit fault. 

And with each passing night, you could feel the clock ticking. You knew Dean was running out of time, and you just wanted him to hold you again. As the sun rose, your heart sank knowing he hadn’t come to make things right with you. 

You stayed in your room upset until Sam called you to come over to theirs. 

“What’s up?” you asked upon entering. 

“That girl Lanie—” Sam was referring to the victim he’d spoken to— “her Mom's ghost spooked her out pretty bad last night.”

“That sucks,” said Dean, typing furiously on his laptop. 

“What… are you doing, Dean?” you asked hesitantly. 

He looked at you briefly; the expression on his face confusing. He looked back down at his computer. “I think my dad’s right. I think the demon is here. Check it out.” He handed you some papers and dug around in his bag. 

“What is this, weather reports?” you asked, leafing through the papers.

“Omens. Demonic omens,” he responded. “Electrical storms everywhere we've been for the past two weeks.”

Trepidatiously, you said, “I don't remember any lightning storms.”

“Well, I don't remember you studying meteorology, either,” he snapped.

‘So much for us being civil,’ you thought. 

“But I'm telling you, that bastard's been tailing me; wearing some poor dude's meat,” Dean finished. 

Sam took some of the pressure off you. “And it’s following you because…?” he asked. 

“I guess I'm big game, y’know? My ass is too sweet to let outta sight.” Dean threw a wink at you, and you were getting incredibly thrown off by his changing attitude. 

“Okay. Sure,” Sam snorted.

Dean snatched the papers back from you. “Don't get too excited, Sammy. Might pull something.” He stood from the bed and moved away from you and his brother.

“Dean, look, I wanna believe this man, I really do…”

Dean cut his brother off. “Then believe it! if we get this sucker, it's Miller Time.”

“Yeah, that's another thing. Dad rattles off an exorcism that can kill a demon? I mean, not just send it back to hell, but kill it?” Dean’s eyes lit up. “I've checked it out. This is heavy duty Dark Ages. Fifteenth century.”

“Dean,” you said softly. “I checked on it, too. So did Sam. So did Bobby.”

“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 

Sam jumped in. “Look, it definitely is an exorcism, okay, there's just no evidence it can kill a demon.”

“No evidence it can't,” he rebutted. 

“Dean…” you trailed off, not wanting to start a bigger fight. 

“Hey, as far as I'm aware the only one of us who has actually been to Hell is my dad. And maybe he picked up a couple of tricks down there, like which exorcisms work,” he snapped. 

“Maybe!” you replied. “I hope so; for your sake. But we gotta be sure.”

“Why aren't we sure?” he asked. 

“’Cause I don't know what's going on around here, Dean!” you cried. “I mean, some guy blows his brains out, a little girl is scared out of her wits—”

“Wow, a couple of civvies are freaked out by some ghosts. News flash, (Y/N), people are supposed to be freaked out by ghosts!” he shot back. 

You held his stare venomously. Dean eventually dropped his head in frustration. 

“Dad tell you where to find the demon?” Sam asked carefully. 

“I'm waiting on the call!” he shouted. 

The tension in the room was thick, and you had no idea what to say.

Sam sighed deeply and tried to change the subject. “I told Lanie I'd stop by.”

Dean scoffed. “Oh, good, yeah. No, you go hang out with jailbait. Just, uh, watch out for Chris Hansen. Meanwhile I'll be here getting ready to, y’know, save my life.”

Sam shook his head and turned to the door. You just stared at the floor. 

“You two are unbelievable, y’know that?” Dean shouted. “I mean, for months, we’ve been tryin’ to break this demon deal. Now, Dad’s about to give us the fuckin’ address, and you blink? The man is dead, and you’re still butting heads with the guy?!” He turned his attention to you. “And you? What happened to us? What happened to your ‘unconditional support’?”

“Dean, you still have it!” you replied. “That was never in question! What I’m questioning is where your fuckin’ head’s at. Because this is not you.”

“Oh, god.” He rolled his eyes and began to pace. 

“I’m not gonna mince my words,” you began, anger boiling to the surface. “This is fuckin’ crazy. I mean, there is no proof. At all. All you’re acting on is blind faith.”

“Yeah, well, maybe!” He shouted back. “Y’know, maybe that's all I got, okay?”

You held his stare, the anger melting out of you at his words. When you could see tears forming in his eyes, he looked at the floor. 

Sam piped up. “Please. Just please don't go anywhere until I get back. Okay, Dean? Please.” 

Dean stayed silent. 

“C’mon, (Y/N),” Sam urged you. 

You looked up at Dean. For the first time that week, he offered you a kind word. “Go. It’s okay.”

You nodded. As you turned to go, you stared over your shoulder back at Dean. 

***

At Lanie’s house, the young girl got you up to speed on what happened to her the night before. 

“Have you told your father about any of this?” Sam asked her.

“And bother him at work?” she replied. “No. He wouldn't believe me anyway, he'd just chuck me into therapy.”

“So what did your mother say?” you asked. 

“She wanted to see me. So at first I thought I was supposed to go to the cemetery,” she sniffled. 

“Did you?” Sam prompted. 

Lanie nodded meekly. “Nothing happened. But then she started asking me to do other things.”

“What sort of things?”

She almost seemed embarrassed to say. “Bad things.”

You crouched down and looked up at her, breaking her gaze from the floor. “Lanie, please. Can you tell me what happened? It’s very important.”

She teared up, young eyes swimming in fear and sadness. “Mom told me to go to Dad's medicine cabinet.”

You waited patiently for her to continue. 

“She wanted me to take his sleeping pills.” She stopped for a minute to gather her courage. “Take all of his sleeping pills.”

“She wanted you to kill yourself?” Sam couldn’t help himself from saying. 

She nodded, crying harder. “Why would my Mom want me to do that?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know.”

“She just kept saying, ‘come to me,’ like, a million times,” she hiccuped. 

Your eyes widened. “Oh, sweet girl, that's not your mother.” You stood from the ground. 

Sam told Lanie, “Listen to me. Don't answer the phone. Don't use the computer. Don't do anything unless I say to, alright?”

You started down the stairs and listened carefully; just one set of footsteps was following you. You turned back to see Lanie still at the top of the stairs. “You okay?”

Her breathing was quick. “Where's Simon?”

“Simon?” you asked. 

“My little brother,” she responded. 

The next thing you knew, you were watching Sam shove the little boy out of the way of a speeding truck from the porch of Lanie’s house. 

Immediately, you called Dean. “Dean, it’s not your dad,” you rushed out. 

“Then what is it, (Y/N)?” he asked flippantly. 

“A crocotta,” you answered. 

“What is that, a sandwich?” he scoffed. 

“They typically live in filth. Mimic loved ones. Whisper, ‘Come to me,’ then lure you into the dark and swallow your soul,” you stated. 

Sam motioned for you to head to his rental car as soon as he delivered Simon to his sister safely. You followed quickly. 

“A crocotta, right, damn, that makes sense,” he snarkily replied. 

“Dean, c’mon, babe—”

He cut you off. “Hey, don't these things live in filth?”

“Yeah,” you replied. 

“Oh, god, at the phone company there were these flies. Pretty much as soon as we got down to the basement where this guy Stewie was hangin’ out,” he rushed out. 

“Okay, uh, okay,” you nodded. “Meet us there.”

You brought Sam up to speed on the conversation you’d had with Dean, and as night fell, he sped to the phone company. 

***

Despite calling Dean several times, you and Sam had to keep moving forward with the case. You watched as the man Sam described to you as Stewie unlocked his car. Silently, you rushed him with a metal spike. You shoved him down onto the car and held a metal spike to the back of his neck.

Stewie grunted. “What the hell?!”

“I know what you are,” you spat. “And I know how to kill you.”

“Wait, wait— Please! If we're overcharging you for the call waiting or something I- I can fix that. I am your friend!” he stammered. 

Confusion overtook you, and you turned to an equally confused Sam. You suddenly noticed a man standing behind him with a bat. “Sam, look out!” you cried. 

But it was too late. He was hit over the head with a bat, and you released the man in front of you. You threw your spike at him, but he caught it just before it hit him. He stalked toward you, and the man smiled widely. The man you’d been holding down shoved you to the ground from behind, and you were knocked out, too.

***

When you next came to, your wrists and feet were bound; that was the first thing you felt. Your head pounded, and your wrists ached from how tight the bindings were. When you opened your eyes, you turned your head to see Stewie was dead and bleeding profusely from his chest. 

You shrieked in horror, and then, the man who’d knocked you out appeared in front of you. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” you snarled.

He just laughed mockingly as he stalked between you and Sam. 

You realized something. “My last call with Dean. That was you. You led us here.”

“Some calls I make, some calls I take, but you have to admit, I had you fooled for a while. All that Edison phone crap,” he chuckled. He moved over to a telephone exchange cabinet and sighed in ecstasy. 

“What are you doing?” Sam asked. 

“I’m killing your brother,” he smiled. “Or maybe I'm killing another guy. We'll just have to see how it goes.”

***

The creature removed the knife from the chest of the man beside you. You grimaced at the wet squelching sound it made as he did. 

“Y’know, mimicking Dean's one thing. But my Dad?” Sam complimented mockingly. “That's a hell of a trick.”

“Well, once I made you two as hunters, it was easy. I found Dean's number, then your number, then your father's numbers. Then, emails, voicemails, everything. You see, people think that stuff just gets erased, but it doesn't. You'd be surprised how much of yourself is just floating out there, waiting to be plucked,” the creature grinned. 

“Dean’s not an idiot,” you stated sharply. “He’s not gonna kill that guy.”

“Then the guy kills him,” he shrugged. “And I kill you two. And here I thought I was only getting one hunter.” He stalked toward you, and you struggled harder. “Now, I’ve got another. And a pretty one, at that.”

You reared back and spat in his face. Almost like a reflex, he immediately backslapped you. 

Unfazed, your head returned to a neutral position and you just glared at him. 

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, tracing the knife down your cheek. “Technology. Makes life so much easier. Used to be, I'd hide in the woods for days, weeks, whispering to people, trying to draw them out into the night. But they had community, they all looked out for each other, I'd be lucky to eat one or two souls a year. Now when I'm hungry, I simply make a phone call. You're all so connected. But you've never been so alone.”

Just as the man’s jaw unhinged like a snake to reveal rows of teeth, Sam came up behind him and wrapped his arms around his neck in a chokehold. You sat patiently while Sam and the crocatta struggled for the knife. You watched both men slam each other into various surfaces until they disappeared from view. 

You couldn’t do anything to help yourself, and you anxiously waited for— hopefully— Sam’s return into the room. 

Much to your relief, Sam stumbled back in minutes later. You grinned up at him happily.

***

You were the one to drive Sam’s rental car back to the motel seeing as he was injured and sore from his fight with the monster. You went at least twenty miles-an-hour over the speed limit for the entirety of the drive. 

You burst into Sam and Dean’s room, and you began to panic when you didn’t see him there. 

Then, you checked your room, breathing out in relief when you saw Dean holding a wash cloth to his eye. “Dean!” You ran to him, kneeling down in front of him.

He looked up at you, and you immediately kissed him passionately. He returned your kiss eagerly. When you broke away from him, you took the cloth from Dean’s hands gently to help him clean the wound.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “I— I’m so sorry.”

You placed your free hand on his knee. “We’ll talk in a minute, alright? Let me clean you up first.”

He nodded. 

***

“There,” you told him having placed the final bandage on his assortment of cuts. “That guy kicked the shit out of you.” Although Dean would normally laugh at jokes like that, his countenance was completely serious. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. 

“I know,” you said softly. “I am, too.”

“I just— I lashed out, and that wasn’t fair to you. You were right,” Dean admitted. “It scares me how well you can fuckin’ read me. And with everything going on, I just—”

“I get it,” you cut him off. “I’m sorry, too. I was being petty. I got mean, too.” You paused for a moment. “I’m sorry it wasn’t really your dad.”

Dean looked down at the ground. “Naw, I gave you a hell of a time on this one.” He huffed. “I wanted to believe so badly that there was a way outta this. I mean, I'm staring down the barrel at this thing. You know, Hell. For real, forever, and I just…” he trailed off, unable to finish. 

Your eyebrows scrunched sadly, and your eyelashes flickered. 

“I’m scared, sweetheart. I’m… I’m really scared.” As tears pooled in his eyes, he couldn’t seem to meet yours. 

You nodded, tearing up as well. “I know.”

“I guess I was willing to believe anything. You know, the last act of a desperate man,” he tried to joke through his stifled cries. 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but there’s nothing wrong with having hope, Dee,” you told him gently. 

“Hope doesn't get you jack squat,” he scoffed. “I can't expect Dad to show up with some miracle at the last minute. I can't expect anybody to, y’know? I mean, the only person that can get me out of this thing is me.”

“And I’m right there with you,” you told him. “Every step of the way. To Hell and back.”

Dean offered a lopsided smile. “To Hell and back.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[miss-madness67]

Massages and More (Dean)

Dean really likes your massage.

“Would you please quit moving?” you berate Dean, who instantly stops squirming under you. Your hands travel through his back in a calming manner. His muscles react to your touch.

“Sorry,” Dean murmurs, “I’m just not used to this.”

You had convinced Dean to let you give him a back massage. He had come to the bunker tired after a long hunt. He claimed that his back was sore, and you jokingly commented on his age. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but as an apology, you offered to relieve his pain a little.

That’s the reason why you’re on top of Dean Winchester -in a nonsexual way- caressing all of his back muscles. He is resting face down, shirtless, and you are straddling his hips. Some sexual innuendos pop into your mind, but you decide to remain quiet. The point of this is not sex. You want Dean to relax and make his poor back feel better. Of course, you cannot deny the enjoyment from touching that perfect body of his.

Dean and you have always had a weird thing going on. You are friends who have sex and have feelings for each other but don’t acknowledge them head-on. It’s been months since it started; you dance around expecting the other to confess their love. Even though you know you both feel the same way, neither says anything. It’s exhausting, really. Several times you’ve considered maybe, just maybe, being the first one to say it. And then you would think, why you? Why not him? Yeah, you both were stubborn, alright.

With the help of your index and thumb finger, you press into his lower back upwards, trying to release some tension in there. Dean sighs in contentment. You do it again on the other side. It’s a good thing that you made him take a shower first. His skin is still wet from it, and it’s easier to slide your fingers up his back into the juncture between his shoulder blades. You stop briefly to admire the strength of his upper body. His broad chest always makes you swoon a little bit… or a lot. Even if he’s not a big fan of workouts like Sam and eats a lot of junk food, the hunt keeps him in shape. His muscular arms are strong enough to tackle down a vampire, or to lift you up while he fucks you against the wall.

When he moves slightly, you go back to work. You don’t want him to find out that you’re probably enjoying this more than he is. With both of your hands, you press him down into the mattress in several key spots. He doesn’t complain, so you do it again. Dean has gone so quiet that you think he might’ve fallen asleep. You’re not a massage therapist at all, you’re just doing what feels right. You lower your hands to the hem of his sweatpants and work there for a few moments. Then you slide them up and to the left, and do the same to the other side. You’re getting the hang of it. You’re even focusing on the movements instead of Dean’s gorgeous back.

A/N: If you wish to continue for the adult part, click here.

[i-already-know-im-going-2-hell]

I think something that just occured to me is I don't think people realize how like, not normal codependent relationships are, even platonic ones.

Like, if you look at the Winchesters and call them codependent and stop there to explain their weirdness, you're not wrong, but like codependent implies that some natural relationship lines are being crossed.

Maybe they're not sexual, but codependent implies extremes regardless. These are not normal levels of emotion. These are not normal levels of need of the others closeness, emotional, physical, or otherwise. These are unhealthy, excessive, levels of interpersonal need.

Meaning that even if you don't define Sam and Dean as the erotically codependent beings angels canonically assign them as, these are not normal or healthy siblings.

They are self and peer reviewed codependent weirdos. Honestly, who actually cares if they're fucking, that's the least weird thing about their fucked up relationships.

Dean overriding his little brothers autonomy in a metaphor for allowing Sam to be raped just so that Sam will stay alive and Dean won't lose him? Much much weirder and darker than just them fucking.

Sam turning to a incessant murder machine everytime his brother dies fully in either a need to seek revenge or a need to make a trickster give him back? Yeah trust me, the blow jobs would be more normal.

Like, truly, codependent is not the cop out you think it is. By acknowledging they are, you are acknowledging they have an unhealthy, unnormal, weird relationship. One that according to the definition from the dictionary, is often times used to describe partners:

I just, truly, if this is how people view their siblings, I'm begging them to do some introspection or use like a therapist as a sounding board to see if their relationship with their siblings is healthy. Because if you look at Sam and Dean and see an average sibling relationship that's the same as yours and your siblings, then I'm concerned. And you should be concerned too

[winchesterwild78]

Daddy’s Girl pt 7

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural

Warnings: court proceedings, angst, fluff, slight smut, mention of sexual assault

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This chapter will touch on the sentencing of the jackasses, how the family is navigating life and other twists and turns. 

This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

I moved back into the bunker but not our shared bedroom. I slept in the spare room down the hall. Most nights I stared at the ceiling longing for Dean. My heart was still broken from the cruel words he flung at me, the anger he had towards me. 

We had appointments with a therapist. Delilah, Dean and I had our own, then a family appointment and of course one for Dean and I together. I was scared the cracks in our foundation would open up and swallow us whole. 

The day we were due back in court for the sentencing I woke up early. I took a shower and walked quietly to the kitchen. Turning the corner I gasped softly. Dean was sitting at the table. His green eyes flicked up to mine. He looked exhausted and sad.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” My breath hitched and my heart clenched. I missed hearing him call me that and meaning it. “Good morning, Dean. Are you ready for today?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He shifted in his seat and there was a crackle of tension in the air. “Hey, um, do you think you and I can sit and talk later?” He asked in an unsure way.

I took a deep breath, “Dean, I think we should wait and talk with the therapist. They can help us with communication so we don’t end up saying things we’re going to regret later. Hurt each other more.” 

Dean took a shaky breath and nodded. He stood and walked over to me, cupped my face, “For what it’s worth I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for Delilah. I spoke out of anger. I love you and I can’t lose you.” 

I leaned into his touch, “I love you too, Dean. I never stopped, but we have some work to do.” He nodded and let his hand slowly fall from my face. The warmth on my cheek lingered. 

A few hours later we were sitting in the courtroom. I held Delilah’s and Charlie’s hands. Dean sat on the other side of Delilah and held her hand. 

The judge came in and discussed the trial and what the charges were. “Since both defendants showed a lack of remorse, and it has come to light this attack was not the first one I feel it is my duty as an officer of the court and a sworn protector of justice that I sentence both of you to the max time and you two will have to register on the sex offender registry for the rest of your lives. Bailiff, please take both of these young men into custody where they will be transported to the regional jail.”

We all let out the breath we were holding. The boys were crying and their mother’s were wailing. Delilah looked at me and I leaned over, “Don’t feel bad for them. You did nothing wrong. Daddy and I raised you and Charlie to take accountability for your actions, this is how they take accountability.” 

She nodded. I made eye contact with Dean and he offered a soft smile. I craved his arms around me, his lips on mine. I just wanted us to get back to the way we were. I missed my husband.

The next few days we spent time together as a family. The distance between Dean and I was growing. Sam, Eileen and Jody came over more often and tried to help. 

Today Dean and I had our first therapy appointment together. I was nervous. All the hurt from the past few weeks was taking a toll on us. The ride to the therapist office was quiet. 

When we arrived, Dean walked around and opened my door out of habit. Walking into the building, his hand graced my lower back. Again, habit. It made my heart flutter, a smile formed on my lips. Almost like there was a spark of hope igniting between us. 

When we walked into the room the therapist invited us to sit wherever we were comfortable. Dean and I sat on the couch, but opposite ends. I noticed she wrote something down. 

She started telling us about herself and then invited us to tell her about our marriage and what brought us here today. She already knew about Delilah, but she didn’t know what happened between us.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his spot. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “Well, the stress of what happened to Delilah really got to all of us. Dean and I didn’t handle it well, and things were said that led to our separation. When I got into my accident I wasn’t living at home. Waking up in the hospital I saw my babies and Dean. Leaving the hospital I decided to move back home.” 

“I see, are you two sleeping in the same room?” I shook my head no. She wrote something down. She looked at Dean, “So, Mr Winchester, what do you think happened that brought you two here today?” 

Tears filled Dean’s eyes and my heart broke. “It’s my fault. I got so angry at not being able to protect my baby I took it out on my wife. I’ve always been able to protect people. She didn’t deserve the things I said to her. It wasn’t her fault and I told her it was. None of this was her fault. I’m a coward. I got scared and lashed out at the one person I knew who would always love me. She’s seen me at my worst and helped put me back together. I guess I just assumed she’d always be there no matter what. Now I’ve lost the love of my life forever.” 

I gasped softly and the therapist looked over at me. “Mr Winchester.” “Dean, please call me Dean.” “Okay, Dean, tell me when you first knew Y/N was the one. Tell me about the moment you fell in love with her.”

Dean smirked a bit and I looked over at him, wondering if it was the same day I was thinking about. 

“We had just finished a particularly grueling, um week at work.” I smirked at his choice of words. “We hadn’t been dating long, but had been working together for years. The two of us decided to get away for a bit so we went to a friend’s cabin. Y/N didn’t know because I blindfolded her. When we got there I had blankets spread out on the floor, our favorite takeout and pie. Had to make sure my girl got her favorite pie.” 

I smiled thinking about the day. A warmth filling my body.

“Candles everywhere. I went to start a fire and the wood was wet. I ended up chopping wood. She doesn’t know it, but I saw her watching from the doorway. The soft smile that ran across her lips, the way she bit her lower lip.”

I clenched my thighs together thinking about his cutting the wood. His shirt was tight against his body, the flexing of each muscle with the swing of the ax, and the way his strength was on display. I remember how it turned me on and made me feel. Like this man could protect me and anyone else that came along for the rest of our lives. 

“When the fire was lit, I put on some music. I don’t know how to dance, but I knew how much she loved it, so I tried. I took her in my arms. I still remember the way her eyes looked at me. So beautiful, so full of love. We danced and I lost my footing. We tumbled onto the blankets, me hovering over her. Her hair falling in her face. I gently brushed her hair back, looked in her eyes, kissed her lips softly and that’s when I knew. When I knew I was in love with her and would never love anyone else for the rest of my life. I knew she was going to be my wife, the mother of my children. That was the day I told her ‘I love you’ for the first time.” 

By the time Dean finished, tears were streaming down my face. The therapist told us it sounded like there was still a lot of love between us. This tragic incident in our lives tried to create a wedge. So, she gave us some homework, “I want the two of you to spend time together. Just the two of you. No children, no family. Just the two of you. You two need to get back to what made the two of you fall in love. I want you two to go away for a long weekend, or a week. Y/N, I want you to start by moving back into your bedroom with Dean. If this is going to work you have to be back in there.” 

I nodded. We thanked her and left. Walking to the car, Dean’s hand was by his side. I looked over at him and slid my hand into his, our fingers intertwined. He looked at our hands then at me and smiled. 

The drive home wasn’t as tense as the drive there. We talked about the homework and how we would figure out how to get away for a little bit. He took my hand and held it tight, “We will figure it out, baby. I want to make us work. I want to fix us. I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you too, Dean. I want us to fix us too.” He kissed my hand. We drove home and when we got home I walked to the spare room and started to gather my things. 

Dean came to the door and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you need any help, sweetheart?” I looked up at him and shook my head. He walked towards me and cupped my face, “I’m so sorry, baby.” His forehead rested on mine. I looked up at him, our eyes met and he leaned closer to me. I leaned up and our lips met softly. 

He pulled back and looked at me. Tears in his eyes and tears in mine. His hands moved into my hair and pulled me closer to him and his lips crashed on mine again. The weeks of separation, the anger, the pain, all slipping away. 

We pulled apart when we heard someone clear their throat. We looked at the door and saw Sam. “Well I see therapy is going well.” He chuckled. “Actually yes. We have homework that we need to talk to you and the kids about. First, my beautiful wife is moving back into our room with me.” 

I grabbed my things and walked past Dean and Sam. Sam smiled at me as I walked past and he squeezed my shoulder. 

Walking into my shared bedroom with Dean I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I felt more of the shattered pieces coming back together. 

“Okay guys, we need to talk to you all about the homework our therapist gave us. She wants mom and I to go on a long weekend away. Just the two of us to refocus and work on us, our marriage. So Sammy, if you don’t mind could you keep an eye on them?” 

“Yes, of course.” Jody looked at us and smiled, “Well guys, you’re welcome to use the cabin if you want, and I’ll keep an eye on the kids when Sammy can’t.” 

I hugged her, “Thank you. The cabin sounds great.” Delilah smiled and looked at Sam and then at Charlie. 

“We will figure out a good time for everyone so we can get away. I want to make sure schedules are lined up so nobody is inconvenienced.” 

Sam stepped closer to me, “Y/N, what would inconvenience us the most is if you and Dean separate. Y’all should go this weekend. That gives you a few days to get things in order.” I nodded.

Once it was settled I walked into the kitchen to start cooking dinner. Dean came in and leaned against the doorframe watching me. I was standing at the stove when I felt his arms snake around my waist. “Is this too much too fast? I can let go if you want me to.” “No, Dean. It’s perfect.” I leaned back into him. 

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I craved him. He spun me around to face him and he tilted my chin up, “I will always love you. You are the love of my life and I am so thankful you’re my wife, my partner, the mother of my children. Thank you for giving me a beautiful little girl and a devilishly handsome son. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you deserve.” 

Delilah stood at the door and watched us. She loved watching us and seeing the love between us. Her heart ached at the pain there was between us and she was determined to help fix it. Knowing our love story, and how we needed to get away she talked to Sam and Jody about recreating the magic of that weekend where Dean and I fell in love. Sam and Jody were all for it. Charlie offered to help too. 

Jody and Sam went ahead to the cabin and got it ready. They met with the local florist to have flowers delivered to the cabin the day we were supposed to arrive.

Dean helped me finish cooking dinner and the four of us sat at the table like we used to. I couldn’t help but smile looking around the table. 

“So daddy, can we have a movie night like we used to?” Delilah asked, batting her eyes at Dean. He chuckled, “Yeah, pumpkin. That sounds perfect.” 

The four of us sat around eating and talked. Delilah said she was glad I was back home where I belonged. “I am too baby. I missed you three so much.” Dean lifted his eyes and looked at me. He smiled softly. 

Delilah took notice and looked at Charlie, “Hey rugrat, let’s go get the cave ready for movie night.” “But I’m not done eating.” “Bring it with you.” She said more sternly. She glanced between Dean and I and Charlie nodded. 

He grabbed his burger and headed out of the kitchen with Delilah.

Dean and I chuckled. “She’s not subtle.” He smirked, “No she’s not. I wonder where she got that from?” “Her daddy and Uncle Sammy.” Dean laughed. That deep, head tilted back, full of joy, belly laugh that I missed. 

“I missed this, Dean.” “Me too sweetheart.” “I’m going to clean up the kitchen before we start the movie. I should be long.” 

I stood and Dean stood. He took my hand in his, “Y/N, tell me we will get through this. I can’t lose you.” 

I took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, “Dean, we will get through this as long as we’re both willing to put in the work. This, tonight, is a big step in the right direction.” 

He nodded and cupped my face, “We were interrupted earlier. Care to continue what we started?” 

His green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the sunlight. I smiled and leaned close to him. I placed my lips softly on his and my hands found the back of his neck. Dean sighed against my lips. Each time we kiss feels like parts of the cracks start to heal.

The two of us finished cleaning the kitchen and made our way to the Dean cave holding hands. Charlie and Delilah saw us holding hands and exchanged smiles. 

Settling in for a movie, Dean offered me his arm and I slid in next to him. A small olive branch to help mend our relationship. He kissed my head and pulled me close. His fingers draw delicate patterns on my skin. 

Delilah was on his other side. Her usual place since the day she was born. Even as she’s gotten older, her relationship with Dean has gotten stronger. It has changed to grow with her, but there will never come a day where she won’t need him. 

Even in the midst of all of this pain, I am thankful she and Charlie see us working hard at mending our relationship, not just throwing it away. She’s been able to see Dean as a protector and a fighter, and someone who will always be there for her.

I looked over near the end of the movie and saw Charlie asleep on the floor and Delilah asleep against Dean. Dean’s eyes were closed too, his lips slightly parted like he was asleep. I smiled and started to get up slowly. 

With his eyes closed he smirked, “Where are you going?” 

I giggled, “I’m going to get blankets to cover the three of you up.” “I’m not asleep, besides, I’m not missing the first night of you back in our bed.” I chuckled softly, “Fair enough, but I need to cover them up before we do.” 

I stood and he slipped off the couch, carefully laying Delilah down. We grabbed blankets and put them on the kids. Dean turned off the tv and the light.

We went to our bedroom. The door closes behind Dean with a click. I walked to my dresser and pulled out some clean underwear, and an oversized shirt. “I’m going to jump in the shower before bed.” Dean smirked, “Okay sweetheart. Enjoy.” I nodded and walked into the bathroom. Part of me wanted Dean to come in and the other part knew it wasn’t a good idea yet. We still had so much work to do before we had sex again. No matter how much I wanted it. 

When I finished my shower I walked into the bedroom and saw Dean leaning against the headboard. He was shirtless and in his gray sweatpants. The ones that drive me crazy without him even trying. He smiled at me as I bit my lip. “Did you enjoy your shower, sweetheart?” “Yeah, I did. It was great.” 

He pulled the blanket back on my side and motioned for me to slide in. I climbed in the bed and he slid down, taking me in his arms. “Baby, I hope you know I’m not expecting anything. I’m just glad you’re back where you belong. Sleeping right next to me.” 

“I know, Dean. I���ve missed sleeping here. I love you and I know you’re not expecting anything. I do want you, more than anything, but I think we should wait.” He nodded his head in understanding. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.” I nodded and snuggled closer to his side.  

Drifting off to a better sleep. Better than I’ve had in a while. 

The next morning Dean and I were packing and planning our trip. I was excited and a little nervous. Dean and I hadn’t been on a trip alone since before Delilah was born. 

“Okay, so you two are going to be okay with Uncle Sammy and Aunt Jody? You have everything you need, right?” 

Delilah smiled, “Relax mom. We are going to be just fine. You and dad need to focus on you two. Don’t worry about us. We are in very capable hands.” I nodded. 

Dean carried out bags out and I noticed the way his biceps flexed under his shirt as he walked past. 

My breath hitched and I licked my lips. Delilah smirked, “Dad’s a total babe, isn’t he mom?” My head spun and I looked at her. My face flushed red, “Delilah Rose!” “What?! I can see how you look at him mom. I hope one day I have a love as great as you two have.” 

I cupped her face, “You will sweetie, I promise.” 

Dean walked in and said “She will what?” Before I could answer Delilah smirked and said “Oh a husband that’s a total babe like you so I can undress him with my eyes like mom just did you.” 

Dean laughed loudly and I covered my face. “That is not what I said.” “You didn’t have to mom.” She winked at me. 

Dean flashed a smile at me and walked over, taking me in his arms, “You were undressing me, were you?” I hid my face in his chest. He smiled as he pulled me close. 

We said our goodbyes and we took off in the Impala. Dean grabbed my hand and interlaced our fingers. “Ready sweetheart?” I nodded and he hit the gas. 

As we drove closer to the cabin, memories of that weekend played in my mind like a silent movie. I looked out the window and over at Dean and smiled. He’d steal glances at me and his memories of that weekend ran through his head too. 

Since that weekend, we’d been through so much, getting married, having babies, raising them, now we were faced with the prospect of our marriage not surviving if we didn’t put in the work. 

Dean was willing to do whatever it took to keep his marriage going. 

I was staring out the window and saw our favorite take out place. Dean saw it too and pulled in. I smiled. 

“Should we eat here or get it to go?” I asked softly. “I think we should get it to go.” I nodded. 

We walked in and ordered the food. Not much had changed in the restaurant. More dust covered items hanging from the wall, the carpet was worn, but the woman behind the register was just as sweet as she had been. 

She remembered Dean and I and asked how we had been. Dean beamed with pride when he told her about the kids and how we were getting away for a romantic weekend, just the two of us. 

She smiled, nodded and held up her finger. Dean and I shared a confused look. 

She returned with a small bamboo plant and handed it to Dean. “This is for good fortune, growth and resilience. You two will be okay. I see love. Strong love.” She smiled at us and Dean thanked her. 

A few minutes later we were back in the car with the food. 

I sat with the plant in my hand thinking about her words. She was right, there was definitely strong love still there. 

We pulled up at the cabin as the sun was beginning to set. Dean and I started to carry things in and as we walked in I gasped. 

There were blankets spread out on the floor, battery operated candles everywhere, and beautiful flowers on the counter. I looked at Dean and smiled. 

Walking to the kitchen I put the food down and grabbed the card attached to the flowers. I read it and smiled. “What does it say sweetheart?” 

I read it out loud: “Mom and Dad, we hope you love the flowers and the blankets. We want you two to be as comfortable as possible while you’re falling in love again. We love you both. Love Delilah and Charlie.” 

Dean smiled, “Those sneaks. I bet Sammy and Jody had a hand in this too.” I smiled, “probably.”

We unpacked the food and Dean carried it to the blankets. “I’m gonna start a fire.” He stood and grabbed some wood. “Huh, there isn’t enough for the whole weekend. I’ll have to chop some tomorrow.” I giggled, “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.” 

Dean looked at me and smirked, “Well then I guess I better put on a show then.” I touched his arm, “I can’t wait.” 

We ate dinner and talked. Remembering the therapist’s advice about talking about us and not focusing all our energy on the kids. At first it was hard but we eventually started talking about us and how we fix our relationship. We laughed and we cried. 

Dean stood and walked over to the record player. He turned on Led Zeppelin’s Since I’ve Been Loving You. He offered me his hand and I stood and took it. 

We swayed and he held me tight as he sang along to the lyrics. As the song ended he dipped me and I smiled. “We made it without falling this time.” “Oh sweetheart, I never stopped falling.” 

My heart fluttered and I gasped softly. Dean leaned forward and kissed my lips. 

Lifting me up he walked me backwards towards the blankets that covered the ground. The light of the fire casting shadows around the room. 

He gently laid me down and hovered over me. “You’re more beautiful than the first time we were here. You’ve given me an incredible life and two amazing children. I love you more than anything. I’ve loved you since the minute I laid eyes on you and I still can’t believe you chose me.” 

I looked up at him. His eyes full of love and regret. Dean leaned down and slowly kissed my lips. The kiss healing more of the cracks in the foundation of our love. I knew he was sorry and he regretted everything he said. It still hurt, but our love was worth fighting for. He was worth fighting for. 

My hands found the back of his neck and I pulled him down. The kiss between us turned heavy and needy quickly. 

Dean’s hand slipped down and to the hem of my shirt. He stopped and I nodded against his lips. 

His hand slid under my shirt and left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

Within minutes our clothes were discarded and Dean was hovering over me with lust filled eyes. His eyes scanned mine for any sign of hesitation. I saw his question and cupped his face, leaned up and kissed his lips. “Dean, I’m ready if you are. I love you and I want you.” 

The look in his eyes quickly changed back to need and want. Positioning himself between my thighs he lifted my legs and pushed in slowly. 

My fingers grabbed his biceps and my head tilted back as I moaned his name. 

His head found the crook of my neck as he stilled. “Baby you feel so good.” 

We made love over and over until we were both exhausted. 

“Dean, that was incredible.” I rolled over and kissed his lips. “Baby, I love you so much and I’m so sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve anything I said to you. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had left me for good.” 

I placed my hand on his cheek, “Dean Winchester, you are the love of my life. Yes you can be an ass sometimes, but I could never nor would I ever leave you. I understand why you did it and I forgive you.” 

Dean’s eyes filled with tears and they silently fell. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.” “Yes you do. You deserve me, our children, Bubbles, and the beautiful life we’ve built together. Don’t ever forget that. You saved the world. So you, Dean Winchester deserve so much more.” 

Dean pulled me in his arms and threw a blanket over us. “Want to sleep out here tonight?” I snuggled closer and nodded, “I’m quite comfortable right here.” 

The two of us fell asleep, our bodies tangled together in front of the orange glow of the fire. 

The next morning we woke up to the sounds of the birds singing and the sun shining through the large ceiling to floor windows. 

Dean stretched and looked at me. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” I smiled, “Better than I have in a very long time.” He kissed my lips, “Me too, baby. Well I better go chop some firewood. Want to watch?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I smiled. 

“You better believe it.” I giggled as I stood up with the blanket wrapped around me. “First I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?” 

He grinned and as I took off down the hall he came bounding behind me. Our laughter and giggles filled the cabin. When Dean caught up to me he pulled me in his arms and kissed me. Our chests rising and falling, trying to catch our breath. “Sweetheart, I love hearing you laugh. It’s been too long since I was the cause of it. Thank you for not giving up on me or us. I love you.” I placed my hands on his firm chest, “Dean I’ll never give up on you or us. I love you too.” 

Back at Jody’s house the kids were settling in for the weekend. They decided to hang with Jody and the girls since Sammy and Eileen were working late. Jody noticed Delilah was very quiet over breakfast and pulled her to the side to talk to her. 

She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone since all the stuff happened with Jaxon and Adam. 

Delilah was sitting on the bed in the guest room and was on her phone. Jody knocked on the door, “Hey sweetie. Can I come in?” Delilah nodded. 

“How are you doing, baby girl? I know a lot has happened lately.” Delilah shrugged, “I guess I’m okay. I just feel so guilty mom and dad are having problems. This almost broke them. They have always been so in love and they almost split up because of me.” Her tears started to fall. 

Jody grabbed her hand, “Hey, no. This isn’t your fault. None of this was your fault. I don’t care if you snuck out and danced naked in the streets, he had no right to put his hands on you. Neither one of them did. As far as your parents, sweetie, they will work it out. I’ve known your dad for years and he can be a jackass sometimes, but he is head over heels in love with your mother. He’s going to do whatever he has to in order to make it right.” 

Delilah took a deep breath, “Thank you, Aunt Jody. This is just so hard.” “I know honey. I went through the same thing. I was about twenty and went to a friend's party. I remember getting a drink, and then the next thing I remember was waking up to a boy on top of me. I screamed and fought, but I passed out again. The next morning I woke up naked and bruised. I was so ashamed, but therapy and a great family helped me through it. You have that right here. So many people love you and are here for you. You’ve got this sweetie. After all, you’re a Winchester.” 

Delilah smiled and hugged Jody. “Thank you, Aunt Jody. Thank you for telling me and reminding me what I have.” 

Sam had stopped by to check on the kids and to make sure they had everything they needed. Charlie asked Sam if he could talk to him for a minute and Sam nodded. 

Sam and Charlie went outside and sat on the porch. “What’s up buddy?” “Uncle Sam, no one will tell me exactly what happened to Delilah. All I know is it was really bad. I just want to know so I can help her.” 

“I get it bud, but it’s not my place to tell you. Just be there for her and help her when she asks for it.” Charlie nodded, “Okay. Thanks Uncle Sammy.” 

Sam ruffled Charlie’s hair, “Anytime buddy.” They stood up and as they got to the door Charlie turned and looked back at Sam, “Uncle Sammy, I might not know exactly what happened to Delilah, but I can promise you nothing will ever hurt her again. I’ll make sure of that.” 

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[bigfan-fanfic]

Brother Mine (Winchester!Reader x Sam and Dean Winchester PLATONIC)

@xweirdo101x Hello, hope you are having a good day/nightI was wondering if I could request a Sam and Dean having an older brother (maybe by one or 2 years)  maybe they haven't seen reader in a couple years. The brother's finally get to see reader when he pulls them out of trouble?

(okay, author's note in that Sam is 22 at the start of the show and Dean is 26. The show spans the same amount of time as in the real world, technically, so Sam ends the show at 37 while Dean ends it at 41. Meaning this elder brother is probably 28 at the start and ends it 43. Good lord, that show went on for a while lol)

"So, explain to me why the two of you chuckleheads are in jail in freaking Kentucky? Because last I heard, Sam was going to college in California and you were still hunting boogeymen with Dad."

The two young men in front of you share a glance as you bail them out of some podunk town's drunk tank.

"Dad's... in trouble." Sam sighs, finally, to a harsh glare from Dean.

"Good riddance to bad assholes." you growl, and Dean clenches his fist

You and your little brothers don't exactly have a great relationship.

With the better part of seventeen years of your lives dedicated to hunting what lies in the darkness, spurred on by your domineering and obsessive father, Dean always has blamed you for "abandoning the family" and "breaking Dad's heart" because you left the life at nineteen and left seventeen year old Dean and thirteen year old Sam behind.

You did the amateur boxing circuit for a while before you were hired on to an indie security company and ended up catching the eye of the owner who trained you until you took over, eventually buying the company and running it.

You know a lot of your money was sent to help pay off any expenses Sam had, but you don't know if it was used for that or blown for motel stays or alcohol or sawed-off-shotguns or salt slugs for Dean and John.

You tried to stay in touch with Sam, but it was awkward. And he wanted space away from "family."

So you know neither of them would ever contact you unless something real bad happened (and apparently Dean's grudge was so strong that he wouldn't even inform you that John went missing)

Though to be perfectly honest, it wouldn't really matter to you anyway, and that's a matter to discuss with your therapist.

"I can't believe you called him." Dean grumbles, like a child.

"Sam apparently knew you'd need a responsible adult." you snark, and he grimaces. "Now, care to tell me why you're road-tripping?"

Sam looks at you. "My girlfriend. Jess. Whatever got Mom... it got her too."

"And you think that Dad is close to tracking it down and that's why he vanished." you sigh.

"Lemme guess, you're gonna tell us that there's nothing that goes bump in the night?" Dean sneers, looking at Sam.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna tell you that it's not your job to chase it. It's not your duty."

"We save people. We hunt things. It's the family business." Dean growls.

"Jesus, Dean, do you hear how you sound?" you groan. "It's this kind of obsession that I tried to get away from! A terrible thing happened to Mom, and there was nothing any of us could do to stop it. It's not our fault, and it's not our responsibility to chase whatever did it down!"

"It's just gonna keep hurting people. We've seen it happening. It's gathering other people like Sam."

"Fuck." you growl.

Dean senses an in. "You were even better than me, back in the day. Remember when you ganked that skinchanger?"

He says "you were only 14" with as much reverence and awe as you do disgust and shame.

"I can't convince either of you to... let the chips fall where they may?"

"Nope." Dean pops the "p" sound.

"Sorry, no." Sam adds.

"I don't wanna kill things anymore, Dean. Not even bad things. But I do care about you both. So here. I'm going to help you, on one condition. We're going to all come back to my place in California, and Sam is going to apply to fucking law school, and you're gonna think about what you really want with your life, Dean."

They think.

They look at each other.

They nod.

"Welcome back." Dean grins.

"You better not still drive that shitty Impala and listen to crappy 80s rock."

Sam winces.

[chiisana-sukima]

if heaven/hell hadn't been vying for the apocalypse, do you think sam ever would have reasonably had a shot at escaping / having an actually good and healthy life? just curious about your opinion! :)

I think the root problem was Azazel, and that neither Sam nor Dean could've done better than they did in canon as long as the instigating event of Azazel's deal with Mary remained unchanged. Plotwise, as long as Azazel still wants Sam to rule Hell's armies, everything is still essentially the same up to the point when Dean goes to Hell and Sam is killing himself with drugs and alcohol trying to get there too.

Ruby's machinations are the first thing that would've gone differently in a No Apocalypse universe, and although Jared didn't start playing Sam as having overt, symptomatic PTSD until after the Cage, even without Ruby this is still a man for whom the only way out is through. He would've gotten himself to Hell one way or another, simply because he couldn't tolerate having Dean there in his stead. And given time in Hell as an inevitability for both of them, I can imagine it ending worse than canon, but I can't imagine it ending better.

In the bad (complimentary) spn in my head, the most likely outcome would be that since there would be no rescue from Cas, Dean would be a demon by the time Sam managed to get to him and Sam would eventually end up the King of Hell in order to protect Dean. The CW's spn I don't think would go that far, but before the first writers' strike cut s3 short, they were planning on having Sam go "fully darkside" (whatever that means) to rescue Dean, so I can't see that ending well either.

I want to specify though that I think Sam did get out and live a good, relatively healthy life. He died at home of natural causes at what appears to be a reasonably advanced age, with his apparently well-adjusted adult son at his bedside. Since the cycle of violence in spn is represented by failure to accept the death of loved ones (Mary->John, John->Mary, Sam->Jess, Dean->Sam, Sam->Dean, Dean->Sam again, etc), the reversal at the end with Dean asking Sam to let him go, Sam doing so, closing down the bunker, and having his own child who as an adult lets him go in turn, represents the end of the Winchester curse.

I don't think Sam ever recuperated 100%. He names his kid Dean after all, which is touching, but also kind of concerning given Everything. And the shrine of dead family pictures with no photos of living family to balance it out is a bit weird.

But, blurriness of his gender-nonconforming husband wife notwithstanding, this is a montage of a good life:

He's happy. His son is happy. He goes to parks and has a home and is proud of his son for studying and playing catch.

I assume the Sam of this montage still has PTSD. Jared still has MHIs irl and still sees a therapist after however many years, and he was the one who embodied Sam's PTSD for us on screen. I still have PTSD that I got when I was 10, and I'm 60 now and my daughter is 27. It's a disability. But the hard parts don't mean you haven't had a good life in total. Barely pulling through at 38(-ish, the age Sam was when Dean died his final death) doesn't mean your disability won't be well-managed at 48 or 58.

A lot of Sam fans feel that because when Sam died his Heaven was back with Dean, sitting in the passenger seat of Dean's car, listening to Dean's music, presumably following where Dean leads, without Dean first having had a chance to grow beyond the damage he had and passed on to others, it means Sam didn't escape his past. Tbh I think this interpretation is valid. I don't think any of the writers of spn through the years could imagine a story in which the members of a relationship are truly equals, treat each other as equals, and are treated by the narrative of their story as equals. We live in a society.

But I'm not naive by any stretch, and I nonetheless can imagine it, I'm better than them, so I'm satisfied. I don't want a revival, and the more time goes by for J2M to grow out of a plausible age range to set the revival before the finale, the less I want one, for precisely this reason. I prefer my own version of the future.

[sammerific]

Fic rec list for @spnficrecfest! This is just a list of some great spn fics I recently read + older reads that I may have recced before on my old deactivated account that I still love. Most of these involve hurt, so I decided to post this on the whump day. This list is mostly gen except for the fics labeled with "Major Relationship(s)."

Recent Reads:

struggle and succumb. by TheQuietWings Major Relationship: Sam/Lucifer (M/M) Major Warnings: non-con, graphic depictions of violence, dead dove: do not eat Summary: There's only so long anyone can fight in the Cage. Sam Winchester breaks.

you could live a better life than you do by TheQuietWings Major Relationship: Lucifer/Nick/Sarah (F/M, Other, Multi) Summary: The arduous process of convincing the devil that you love it.

circle, broken by AreYouReady Summary: A series of conversations and resolutions. Cas haunts the fringes of a new Heaven.

rip your heart out. by sp8ce Major Relationship: Sam/Lucifer (F/F) Major Warnings: non-con, suicide Summary: Lucifer is trapped alone in a time-compressed vacuum, so she muses on her one true vessel who will understand her like no one else ever could.

more than the world by spnworks777 (alexmeg) Major Warnings: major character death Summary: A few simple choices not made, and Dean is left wishing that he had turned around sooner, had never left, had asked him more. Now he's sitting beside his brother in the hospital, his body burned beyond what his chances of survival should have been.

The Darkness Followed by procrastin8or951 Major Warnings: suicidality Summary: "Hell is forgetting yourself and Heaven is only remembering, but all Dean needs is to stop. Never to be what he isn’t, but not to be what he is. He just needs to stop."

What of this is real? by angelszn (artbabe) Major Relationship: Nick/Sam (M/M) Major Warnings: past non-con Summary: Nick feels empty without Lucifer. All that's left is him and Sam.

D'Arc by Xenerik Major Relationships: Jessica/Sam, Ruby/Sam (F/F) Summary: Sometimes she feels like she’s in drag, an elaborate performance, layers and layers. A girl dolled up as a boy dressed up as a girl disguised as a boy, and on and on.

Older Reads:

The Way Back by rainylemons Summary: AU in which Dean gets between Lucifer and Cas, preventing Castiel’s death and eventual return to full-blooded angelhood. In the following months, a mostly human Cas gets a job at Taco Bell, Dean recovers from wounds given to him by Lucifer, and a silent, shell-shocked Sam wanders in from the cold.

The Space Around Him by rainylemons Summary: Two years ago Sam Winchester went blind after an opportunistic infection ruined his optic nerve. He and Dean have since settled down, but Sam's still struggling to learn the difference between adapting and coping. Fortunately, he has an awesome brother, a therapist, a few exotic dancers, and a canary named Phil to help him out.

Head Space by ameliacareful Summary: A witch curses Sam leaving him blind, deaf, and bedridden. Left with only the inside of his own head and the occasional touch, Sam begins to unravel.

You & I by howldax Major Warnings: major character death Summary: Dean wakes up slow. He’s still in the car; he knows that straight off just by the smell of her, the feel of her against his back and thighs. She’s still sleeping, her engine quiet, and the sky is still mostly dark, starting to get orange-yellow at the edges with the upcoming sunrise. For a moment he’s not sure why he’s awake.

Beyond Words by notyouranswer (gorgeouschaos) Summary: Dean said no to Alastair for thirty years. Dean picked up a phone, dialed Bobby, and couldn’t make his voice work. (Dean doesn’t talk, after Hell.)

[all-4-wincest]

This should be fun!

NO CHEATING! Your last celebrity photo/gif you saved is your therapist. Who is it?

I’ll go first:

Umm…Demon!Dean is my therapist! I don’t think we would get much done. We’d be too busy having a lot of sex!! We could both work out some of our aggression that’s going on! 😂😂

Now it’s everyone else’s turn, and I’m gonna tag some friends cuz…well just cuz, okay!

@huntressandlioness1 @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @cyi-can-you-imagine @pookeenpie @ilikaicalie @writethelifeyouwant @supernaturalkickparty @sam-winchester-admiration-league @samisadeangirl @celticmama44 @kittenofdoomage

Umm… I guess that’s enough, however, everyone is welcome to answer.

[delulu4dean]

“Audio-Therapy”

Warnings: none

Parings: Dean x sister!reader

Summary: you show Dean the magic of audio therapy

Word count: 1,679

You’ve known your brothers Sam and Dean since you were about ten years old. Your dad didn’t tell you about them, and he didn’t tell them about you. It was a one night stand after a hunt, he met your mom at a bar and you were born. When you were ten, your mom said she’s done raising you on her own, and demanded John be in your life. Unfortunately it wasn’t going to happen, as John was dead. Finding out about Adam was already a lot that year for them, but finding out about you too? A ten year old sister? Sam and Dean weren’t exactly happy or excited. And then the whole thing with Lucifer and Sam being in the cage together happened. That’s when Dean started being more present in your life. Along with him being with Lisa and Ben, he had you sleep over a few times, he’s visited other times. And that’s when your connection to the Winchester brothers started.

Around the time you were fifteen, there was a time where Dean died, and then he wasn’t. And during that time, you helped Sam look for Dean, because one moment Dean was dead in the bunker, the next he was gone, with a letter left behind. Sam fought against you helping at first, but he was desperate to find Dean. This was your first real experience with the supernatural world. Seeing Dean as a demon was a terrifying experience, to say the least. But you knew you wanted to be a hunter just like your brothers. And after you, Castiel, and Sam cured Dean, you begged and begged and begged to be a hunter just like them. Sam and Dean protested and protested, but you didn’t back down. You chose to stay with them instead going back home. It’s not like your mother protested much, she never wanted a kid, let alone to be a single mother. But she also didn’t know what kind of things Sam and Dean were involved with.

Here you are now, 23, living in the bunker with your older brothers, still. You’ve become quite the skilled hunter, and you can tell your brothers are proud. Proud and scared.

You’ve picked up on some things over the years. One being how much Dean bottles up all his emotions. It’s not like you’re one to talk much about your feelings either, you typically keep them to yourself… for the most part. But in your time at the bunker you’ve discovered audio therapy. And you figured it’s time Dean tries it.

“Dean, grab your keys, we’re going on a drive,” you order your eldest brother.

“Where?” he asked, looking up from his laptop.

“I dunno, maybe we can grab some burgers or something.” You shrug.

Dean looks at you for a moment, thinking.

“You just want to go on a drive?”

“Yes, I’m introducing you to therapy.”

“So I’m driving to a therapist?” Dean raises his eyebrow.

“No, just get your butt in the car,” you push.

Dean reluctantly shuts his laptop, and gets up, grabbing his key. You can tell he was not in the mood for anything with the word therapy in it, especially after taking you to your “retail therapy session.” You both get in his car and you put in a mixtape you had to make for the car because no way was Dean letting you just find a way to connect your phone to it.

“Hey, you know the rules,” he starts.

“The rules are stupid when you don’t let anyone else drive this car, so zip it,” you tell him.

“So what’s this therapy?” Dean asks you, starting the car.

“Audio therapy,” you answer.

“What, like driving with music? I already do that. All the time. A little bit of AC/DC and some time on the road and I’m good.” He begins driving.

“It’s more complicated than that. Ignoring your feelings isn’t therapy, Dean,” you begin to explain. “Audio therapy is screaming at the top of your lungs to songs that sing your pain.”

“Like that mixtape you made? The one with all the emo songs?”

“Yes, and that’s what we’re listening to right now, so I can show you what audio therapy feels like.”

You press play, and One Step Closer by Lincoln Park. And as the song plays, and you sing along, Dean just listens. You enjoy your time singing, and then you start screaming. “Shut up when I’m talking to you! Shut up! Shut up!” Dean glances at you before his eyes go back to the road, his facial expression a mix of concerned and impressed.

“You okay, kid?” he finally asks.

“After that song? Yes,” you smile.

“So what makes this different than just listening to music?”

“You find songs that you relate to and sing your little heart out. Someone else already put your feelings into words, all you gotta do is sing them,” you try to explain to your brother. “So are you going to play your music, or what?”

Dean starts playing his music, mumbling the words. You lean forward to turn up the volume before slumping back into the passenger seat.

“I can’t hear you!” you poke his arm.

“Why does this matter so much to you?” Dean questions you.

“Because all you do is hold in your emotions. You don’t talk about anything, you just hold it all in. This way you can at least get some of it out,” you spell out for him.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

“You know, I’ve never heard a person who’s actually fine say ‘I’m fine.’ They’re always the complete opposite of fine.”

“What about when you say you’re fine?”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you actually believe me when I say that!”

“You’re ‘I’m fine’ is very convincing,” Dean defends himself. “Considering your resting tone is annoyed.”

“That’s not my resting tone, I’m just always annoyed. Like have you ever thought maybe, just maybe, I’m just never fine?”

Dean sighs, as you both fall into silence, minus the music playing in the car. Dean mumbles to the music again, as he pulls into the parking lot of a local burger joint.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks.

“Yes, actually,” you say. You avoid ‘I’m fine’ after the conversation you and your brother just had.

“Are you sure?” Dean looks over at you. “Because you just said you’re never-“

“I’m okay. I’m not great but I’m okay,” you insist, cutting him off. “But I’ll be great if I can get a burger in my tummy!”

The two of you walk inside and order, before sitting at the table. After a few minutes, you’re digging in. Well Dean is digging in, you’re eating slower than him. He wipes his mouth before taking a sip of his soda before looking up at you.

“So, what’s up with you, anything new?” Dean asks you. “Any boyfriends?” You shake your head in response, your mouth full of food. “Girlfriend?” You shake your head again.

Silence falls onto you again, as you continue eating your food, one fry by one fry. Dean just watched you eat.

After eating, the two of you walk to his car and he plays his music again. You just look out the window as he drives around. He sings along to the music, this time louder, clearer. As you look out the window you see you’re not going home, but rather that’s he’s continuing the drive. You look up at him and he’s really getting into the song that’s playing. The drive keeps going for the next fifteen minutes until you’re somewhere. Nowhere? Well it’s dark, no cars around.

“Shit, you’re finally going to kill me,” you joke, in a serious tone with a deadpanned face. Dean did not pick up on the joke.

“Kill you? What no, we’re here to… talk about our feelings,” Dean says. You can tell it was harder for him to say the last part, because Dean has to fight it out.

“That’s the point of the music,” you groan.

“Come on, kid. I’m thinking I’m not the only one you’re doing this for.”

“I want you to open up to me, not the other way around,” you explain to him.

“I will, but you got to open up to me too.”

“I’m just dealing with normal stuff, you’re the guy who saves tons of lives. You have a lot more to talk about.”

Dean sighs, putting the car in park. He looks over at you, taking a deep breath, as he puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Look, just because the things I’ve been through are crazy, doesn’t mean you haven’t been through stuff.”

“See this is why I prefer the music, nobody has to talk. We can sing, we can scream, and I don’t have to feel like I’m burdening you with my problems. You may say it’s fine but I don’t feel like it is. If these feelings are all too much for me I can’t imagine dumping them on somebody else, so-“

“Hey, it’s a lot for one person to carry alone, let me carry the weight with you.” Dean’s hands move from your shoulder to your head, steadying your face to look him in the eyes. “Tonight we’re both going to open up. You let out how you’re feeling to me, and I’ll tell you how I’m feeling.”

And that’s how you spend the rest of the night. For the next hour and a half, you and Dean take turns, going back and forth talking about things. Small things, big things, whatever is bubbling over or irking you, you talk about it. Sometimes one of your problems will remind Dean of something, and it flows into a new conversation. There’s some crying too, but good crying. And this is just the beginning of a weekly check in you and dean start doing. Once a week, you play some songs, sing out how you feel, and by the end of the night, if it’s still not enough, you talk it out.

✰✰✰✰✰

A/N: This kind of sucks sorry I had like a different idea but I did not know how to write it so I just did this.

[scoobydoodean]

You go to your first therapy session with Therapist Sam Winchester and tell him you're depressed and he prescribes a night out at a strip club.

[girls-alias]

Dean's Dream P7

Title: Dean's Dream P7

Part 6

Words: 1,979

Relations: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Sad.

Masterlist

Prompt:

Dean is captured by a Djinn and dreams of Y/N.

It's been a year now. A whole year of pain and false hope. Today's the anniversary and the feelings from waking up haven't changed. I still look for her and wonder where I had seen her for her to be in my dream. I think I hear her voice, I think I see her smile, I think I see her in the distance but it's never her. I can't count the tears I cried for her, the tears that fell for the woman and the life I had lost. There were no words available to me that could truly express my loss.

Sam had tried everything, I appreciated his help but there was no way to understand or help, he didn't get it. Yeah, he lost Jess but losing Y/N was different in my eyes. I only had her for a day before she was gone again, and yet she promised me perfection; it would have been easy to give me all she had promised.

Sam knew the anniversary today. The anniversary of the day I gained nothing but lost it all. I will admit, I lost the plot a little. I began looking for djinns just so they could take me back to her but Sam always stopped me or they were well hidden.

I groaned as Sam slammed his fist against my bedroom door. I rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head. If there was ever a day that I should be left alone it was today, Sam didn't recognise that or if he did, he didn't care.

"Come on, Dean," He commented loudly as he walked in. I considered using the gun under my pillow. "I already moved your gun, come on. We're going out," He explained he knew what I was thinking. He sighed when I showed no indication of getting up. With a fast swipe, he pulled the blanket off me. I looked up at the ceiling, silently praying for the strength to deal with him today.

I sat up, groaning as I wiped my eyes. "Look, Sam. I'm not in the mood," I explained, anger lacing my tone even though I was trying to sound calm.

"I know but this could be good," He tried, he took a seat at the edge of my bed, looking at me hopefully. I rolled my eyes at his false hope. The stupid hope I had lost not too long ago. "So, you said the houses looked like they were in Salt Lake. I know we've already looked but what if she's looking today as well. She might be looking for you too," I wanted to hope. A month ago, I would already be on those streets searching for her but today, I knew it was a waste of time. I had made her up, she wasn't real.

Y/N'S POV:

"Dean!" I tried to scream but a tube down my throat stopped me. I choked on it slightly. My eyes quickly wandered around the room. Where's Dean?!

I quickly learned I had been in a coma for nearly 3 months. Doctors didn't expect me to wake, I showed no signs of waking but I knew it was because of Dean. I had asked nurses where he was, asking when he was coming back but they explained sadly that I had no visitors. Really no one? When I was a little more stable, a kind doctor explained that I was brought in for a car crash, my family were in the car but I was the only survivor. He asked if I remembered the crash but I can't remember anything before Dean. I don't remember being young, I don't remember who I was, in my mind, I was Dean's and he was mine.

Therapists took an interest in my case as they all seemed to want to examine my brain. They all explained that dream comas were common but the fact I believed it so deeply and couldn't remember anything before it made my case even more appealing to them. They would try and coax new answers out of me, each week asking if I had remembered anything new, each time growing a little more frustrated that my memory made no improvement but I was fine with that, my whole being believing Dean and my time with him wasn't a dream.

"Oh, I won't make it to my next session," I explained nonchalantly as I gathered my bag and stood from my chair. My therapist, Noah, looked at me confused. I smiled at the thought. "I'm going to Salt Lake City to find Dean," I explained but his eyes showed sorrow. His smile faded and tightened into a thin line.

"Y/N, I don't want to upset you but you've already looked, it was just a dream," He reminded me though I'd never be able to forget his opinion as he says it multiple times in one session. I rolled my eyes.

"I already bought the coach tickets and I have it planned out this time," I explained but his unimpressed expression told me he doesn't believe me. I sighed, pulling the map from my pocket. I opened it, flattening it on his coffee table. "I start here," Pointing to the coach station. "I'll walk up to the house we had, stay there for about an hour, walk to Sam's house, this way and then get coffee from his favourite cafe and stay local until my coach leaves," I explained, often following the route I would walk with my finger. He looked between me and the map unconvinced. I rolled my eyes again. "It's been a whole year if he's going there to look for me, it'll be today,"

Dean's POV:

I groaned sitting back in my seat as Sam drove us to Salt Lake City. A part of me wondered if I actually would see her but I fear getting my hopes up because it will only hurt more.

Y/N'S POV:

I stepped off the coach with a wide smile, holding my backpack straps as I looked around hopefully. Please be here!

I started my walk to the house. Music played through my earphones as I walked, smiling happily at everyone I passed, once I made it to the neighbourhood I smiled even wider. I looked at the house, the dream. I sighed, a little disheartened he wasn't already waiting for me. I took a deep breath, strutted over to the house and took a seat on the curb, I took my earphones out so I could listen out for him calling my name. My attention turned to my book to pass the time but I could barely focus. Any noise and I was looking around for him. I wonder if he'll look different. I wonder if he smells different. I can't lose hope.

Dean's POV:

As we drove the streets that felt familiar and heartbreaking, I found myself looking around for her. I shouldn't have got my hopes up but Sam's right. If she's looking for me, it will be today.

The houses began feeling more and more familiar, and recognising them only made me gasp. "Turn left," I instructed eagerly.

Y/N'S POV:

I had been sitting on the curb, coming up to two hours now, I was getting anxious not seeing him but plastered a smile on my face. I started the walk to Sam's house. Following the route, we had driven a year ago.

Dean's POV:

"Stop, stop," I opened the door before he even stopped. I rushed up the path and porch steps knocking quickly. I found it! I found the house. I waited impatiently before a man answered the door looking at me confused. I looked at him slightly confused as I expected Y/N, my beautiful Y/N. "Sorry, doesn't Y/N live here?" I asked, looking past his shoulder slightly.

"No, I'm sorry. I think you have the wrong house," He explained. I sighed.

"Thanks anyway," I turned back, walking back as Sam stood, door open looking over the car. He looked at me hopefully but I shook my head. I climbed in resting my head on the headrest. Sam got back in, apologising for my heart breaking another time.

"We'll wait here, maybe she'll think the same thing," Sam said hopefully. I ignored him as I rested my head on the side, mindlessly looking out the window, a tear falling from my eyes with ease.

Y/N'S POV:

I made it to Sam's house surprised. The house had been pulled down to make room for a kid's park that was still in construction. I sighed continuing on to Dean's favourite cafe. It was a long shot he would remember it but it's still something.

I made it in, ordering myself a drink before taking a seat at a table. All my plans felt like a waste of time. Maybe Noah and everyone else was right. Maybe I truly did dream of him. Maybe I was making myself crazy by believing it. I put my headphones in, resting my cheek on my palm as I practically sulked while reading. My heartbreak echoed through the air. I wiped the tears as they fell. All hope faded to nothingness.

Dean's POV:

I reluctantly guided Sam to the house he had lived at. Finding it was a park under construction only hurt my heart more.

"Let's just get some coffee and have a think about it," He suggested but I just want to go home.

We parked up, finding a coffee shop further down the street. I sighed, heading straight for the tables as Sam went to the counter to order our drinks. I took a seat, noticing the seat behind me was unoccupied but a book and backpack saved the seat. I sighed, resting my head in my crossed arms as I waited for Sam.

Y/N'S POV:

I got back to my seat, barely paying attention to anything around me. I moved my backpack onto the table, carefully climbing into my seat as a troubleman took a seat behind my chair. I sat, my headphones returning to my ears as I resumed my position, reading with my cheek on my palm.

Dean's POV:

Sam came over, drinks in hand as he took a seat opposite me. I drank hastily. I just want to leave. Sam began brainstorming things we could do to look for her. I sighed, resting my chin on my palm as I rolled my eyes. I don't have the strength in me anymore.

THIRD PERSON POV:

Y/N checked her watch. Sighing a final time, she rose from her seat, gathering her things and leaving the table.

"I need the bathroom," Dean instructed, getting up from his seat. She looked down at her phone as she changed the song on her playlist, a song full of rage playing through them as she felt numb, the heartbreak can only hurt so much before you feel nothing.

Though expected they did not see each other. It seemed to have been timed imperfectly. If she had waited one moment later or if he had got up one second earlier they would have bumped into each other. Yet she still walked out of the cafe and he still went to the bathroom. Neither knew their true love was behind them and neither knew their breaking hearts could have been healed with one second. One second either of them could have changed to meet but neither knew, and neither would know. She still got on her coach, and he still drove home. Both believed the dream was fake and both left, their heart empty and souls crushed.

If they knew how close they were to having the reunion, it would only hurt them more. Both lost hope, neither looking for each other again. The emptiness never fades and pain never heals. He owned her heart and she his, forever.

Masterlist

Part 8

[asmutwriter]

You Saved Me (Part 15)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 12) You bump into no other then Dean Winchester as you work your normal day shift at the local pub.

WORD COUNT: 2271

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, set in a pub, very brief mentions of death, lots of angst, small amounts of fluff

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

A YEAR LATER

You smiled at the next customer. Taking their drink and food order. Writing down their table number as you see someone sit at the bar nearby. It was about 3pm so the lunchtime rush had passed. Only a few stragglers who were coming off of a late shift were coming in. You walk down the short length of the bar. Your customer service smile changing to a genuine one as you recognize the man.

"Dean" you say. He looks up. His saddened face lightening slightly as he meets your eyes.

"Rose. What are you doing here?"

"Working. They don't let me behind the bar of most places. Unfortunately" he lets out a small chuckle. "What can I get for you?"

"Whiskey. No ice". You nod. Turning around.

"Coming right up". Pouring the whiskey into the glass. Facing Dean again as you place the drink in front of him. He smiles at you. Taking the drink and downing it. Pushing the glass towards you. You take the bottle of whiskey. Refilling the empty glass. "Difficult day at work?". He chuckles slightly. Nodding as he delicately picks the glass back up.

"Something like that"

"Anything I could do to help?"

"Just keep the drinks coming. That'll be help enough"

"So a really bad day at work then?" he nods. Downing his drink again. Gently pushing it again. You take it. Pouring as he talks.

"You don't need to know about my problems though. You're at work and I'm sure you have a lot going on" He takes the glass. Sipping it. You put the lid back on the bottle.

"As you can see-" you motion to the practically empty bar. "I am very busy". You half smile at him. "Just think of me as any other bartender. One that you can vent your problems to. Everyone knows that we are basically like therapists, just with less qualifications. Well, us and hairdressers". He half smiles. Looking at his drink as he tilts the glass. Watching the liquid.

"Have you ever trusted someone so unconditionally and then they just... stab you right in the back?" he looks back up at you. You think for a moment.

"Sadly, yes. It is a shitty thing to happen" he nods. Downing his drink. "Have they apologised?"

"She's tried. She hasn't stopped texting me. Wanting to explain herself. But I don't want an explanation. Honestly, I don't even care that much about what shes done. I care about the fact that she lied to me. Lied to Sam". You nod. Him passing you his empty glass. You fill it up again.

"That is tricky. Unfortunately its up to you if you want to forgive her or not" you pass him his drink back. "Only you can make that decision"

"Sam wants me to forgive her". He shakes his head slightly. "I don’t know if I can. She hurt Cas. She-" he pauses. Taking the glass again. Lowering his voice slightly. "She got another hunter killed. We could've avoided it. We could've stopped that situation from ever happening if shed just... listened to us. Talked to us". You watch him. Eyes steady as he downs his drink again. He shakes his head. Eyes looking at you.

“What’s the latest with you then?”. He changes the subject. You half smile at him. Understanding the want of a new topic. You stretch your arms out semi dramatically towards the bar.

“I got a new job - as you can see. Been here a month I think. It’s good work. I’m trying to save up some money though”

“Yeah? What for?”

“I want to own my own pub. Have my own place like this”

“Isn’t that the dream?” He chuckles slightly

“There’s a place not to far from here. There's rumours that it might go up onto the selling market soon”

“Yeah?” You nod. An uncontrollable smile coming over your face as you talk.

“I think I could convert it into a pub in the bottom. Apartment styled house in the top”. He chuckles slightly. “I asked an estate agent about it. I would have enough to buy it. If I sell the place I’m staying in now. I just don’t quite have enough to renovate it too”

“Could you buy it now, save up money, renovate it at a later date?” You nod

“That’s my plan. Hopefully anyway. I’ve put in an offer for it earlier this morning. Just need to see if they accept it”

“There is a small problem though”. He says, a slight smile on his lips as he looks at you. You furrow your brow softly. A look of concern coming over your face.

“What’s that?”

“If you open a pub this close to my house then I’ll be forced to come to you whenever I want a beer”. You laugh slightly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing?” You smirk at him. Causing him to let out a soft chuckle. "How far do you live from here then?"

"About 20 minute drive. There are a few places closer but this place has the best whiskey". You chuckle slightly. Another customer comes up.

"Excuse me" you say. Going over to the new customer. Taking their order and serving them before going back to Dean. Placing your hands palm downwards onto the wooden surface top. "My shift ends in-" you look at the clock on the wall "20 minutes. Anything else I can do for you?"

"How about another drink?" he says. A smile on his face as he looks at you. You nod and half smile. Refilling his drink back up. He takes it. Looking into the bottom of it as the amber of it stares back at him.

"How about I make you a sandwich?". He gets brought out of his drunken trance. Looking at you. You smile at him. "It has bacon in. Its one of my own makes. I make it for the girls if they've had a long day". He half smiles at you. Nodding slightly as he places his glass down. You go over to a small kitchen part. Still being able to see him as you put on some gloves. Cooking up some bacon as you prepare the bread.

Dean watches you as you make it. Eyes hungry as they stay glued to your hands. You serve it onto a plate. Placing it in front of him. He practically drools at the sight of it. You take your gloves off. Throwing them into a small bin by your side.

He takes a bite. Eyes shutting in bliss as he tastes it. "Holy fuck" he mumbles through a mouthful. "This is awesome". You chuckle. Watching as he opens his eyes again. "Where did you learn to make this?"

"It was my go to meal when I was younger - for if my dad was out. It didn't require much cooking and meant I was having a somewhat healthy diet. Well, healthier then pizza every meal"

"Oh my god. This is excellent. Best thing I've tasted since..." he trails off. "Might be the best thing I've tasted". You laugh.

"I don't think its that good" he smiles. Taking another bite.

"If you do buy that place. Then make these. You'll be having people from all around the world coming to your bar". You laugh. Shaking your head slightly.

"I appreciate you feeding into my ego". He smiles at you. Taking another bite. Eyes shutting again. A soft moan escaping. Your grin expands. Enjoying the pure ecstasy you've given him. You look back at the clock. Not sure how 15 minutes had passed but they had.

"I have to go and get Anna and Lydia from school". He opens his eyes to look at you. "I'll leave you in the trusted care of my fellow employees".

"Wait. How much for everything?". You look at the glass. Counting on your fingers.

"5 drinks. £15?".

"And the food?". You smile at him.

"On me". Him smiles. Taking out his wallet and handing you a twenty. Before you can protest he speaks. "£5 tip for being an excellent server". You smile. Going over to the till and putting the money in. "I hope that you have a good rest of the day"

"After this-" he motions to the food "I think its only up from here". You laugh. Taking off your apron as you fold it.

"I'll see you around Dean"

"You too Kathrine". You smile. Going out the back. Grabbing your car keys and coat. Heading to your car you frown.

"Oh you've got to be fucking me right now?" you say. Seeing your flat tire. You kick the wheel. Regretting it as you feel your toes buckle under the force. "Ow" you say tiredly. Dramatically grabbing your foot at the dull pain. "Ow" you repeat. Dropping your foot as you go round to the boot. Opening it up. No tire. Slamming the boot down. Shutting your eyes. "Ok. Calm down. Just text Anna and say that she needs to get a bus. Then call a mechanic. Do they even bring tires to place like this?".

You grab your phone out. Pulling up the number of a nearby mechanic. Just as your about to ring them you see Dean walk out. Putting his denim jacket back on. He walks over. A soft frown on his face. You motion at your car before going back to your phone. "Flat tire. Haven't got a spare to change it. Just about to ring a mechanic". He bends down.

"Hang on a second". You pause. Your thumb hovering over the dial number. "We've got the same tires. I've got a spare that you can have"

"Are you serious?". He nods. Standing back up straight. "You are a lifesaver". he chuckles. Going over to his Impala and grabbing the tire out. Bringing it over. "Thank you so much Dean"

"No worries. Do you need help changing it?". You shake your head.

"No. Not the first time I've had to change my tire. Which is why I no longer have a spare" he chuckles slightly. "I've just got to text Anna that I will b a bit longer then expected". He watches as you bring up her number.

"She's at school with Lydia?" you nod. Going to text your daughter. "How about I pick them up and drive them home? Whilst you fix this"

"Oh no I cant expect you to-"

"I insist". You bite at your bottom lip as you look at him. His eyes soft as they look at yours.

"Yes. Yes then. Thank you" he smiles.

"What school are they at?". You tell him the name.

"They're about 10 minutes from here. I'll text Anna and let her know that you're picking her up. Thank you again Dean" you say. Hugging him quickly before he goes to his car. You fix your tire. Dumping the spare one in the boot. A text from Dean as you finish.

'Got to yours. Made the girls a drink. Watching Finding Nemo'

You smile at the message. Getting into your car and driving home. You open the front door. Hearing the familiar noise of the film as you go into the living room. Lydia turns to look at you from the sofa.

"Mum!" she exclaims. Jumping up as she runs over to you. Anna pausing the movie as she turns her head. Smiling at you as you hug your youngest daughter. She goes back over to the sofa she was sharing with her sister.

"I'm going to go and make myself a drink. I'll be in in two seconds. Carry on watching you three" you smile. Going into the kitchen as the soft humm of the film plays through the wall. Making yourself a coffee you go back into the room. Sitting down next to Dean.He glances at you. A soft smile on his lips as you smile back at him. You scoot close to him. Whispering.

"Thank you again"

"No worries. I'm always happy to help"

"Its really appreciated though". You kiss his cheek. Turning back to the film. He turns to look at you. You watching the film so you don't notice the flash of emotion in his eyes. Taking a sip of your coffee as you watch the movie. His eyes going back to the screen.

"I can't believe you let them sway you into watching this movie?" you say as it finishes. Looking at Dean as the two girls grin from their sofa.

"They said it was a cartoon. And I'm never one to turn down a good cartoon". You laugh. Standing up as you grab the mugs.

"Cant argue with that logic" you say. Going into the kitchen again as you dump the cups into the sink. He follows you shortly behind.

"I should be getting back home".

"Feel free to stay for longer if you'd like". He shakes his head.

"I don't want to leave Sam to long so I should get back". You smile softly at him.

"Thank you for today. Its always good to see you. Plus you've been a massive help for me". He nods, a small smile adorning his lips as he looks at you.

"I told you, always here to help". You chuckle slightly. Nodding. "If you do manage to open up a bar then let me know. I'll be your first customer". You laugh. He grabs his jacket from the side again. "See you around".

"See you soon". You say as he heads out the kitchen. Hearing the front door shutting behind him as he leaves your home.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@sojuxxi

[walker-extended-universe]

John's Boys, Chapter 1

Relationship(s): Bonham Walker & John Winchester, Abeline Walker/Bonham Walker, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

Tags/Warnings: Abandonment, Angst, Heavy Angst, Family Dynamics, Crossover, Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence

Summary:

After John learns the truth of what happened in the nursery that night, he can't just sit by while a monster like that roams the earth. But, he knows he can't drag his boys on a cross-country revenge trip with him. So, he calls on an old friend for a small favor. Bonham knew from the start that this wouldn't be a temporary thing. Too often, he's seen his old army friends that "just need some time" go off the deep end and never return. But he also knows that someone needs to look after John's boys if the worst happens. So he agrees to a small favor.

Written for @angstober Day 21: Abandoned

A/N: Yes this is another Walker/Supernatural crossover that has both too much and not enough thought behind it why do you ask :)))))))

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

--------------------------

If there was one thing Bonham had learned from his time in the Marines, it was that nine times out of ten, if you got a call from an Old Army Buddy, it was usually a bad sign.

The only thing that was worse: they showed up at your front door without calling first.

When he saw John Winchester’s impala in the drive leading up to the main house, Bonham told Abby not to worry about it and that he’d handle it. It’s not that he thought John was a bad person; far from it. The man had saved his bacon more than a few times overseas. But showing up like this, out of the blue, without so much as a letter between them in years, could only mean something bad was coming.

He’d heard things through the grapevine about other members of their troop. Men disappearing to their old friends’ apartments without a note to their wives. Men leaving suicide notes in voicemails that their families wouldn’t hear until months later. Men just disappearing and relying on their friends to keep the secret.

When Bonham saw the carseats in the back of the car, his stomach dropped. This couldn’t be anything good.

“She’s dead, Bonham.” John told him. “She’s dead. The house is gone. And I can’t- I can’t just sit here when the bastard that killed her is still out there.”

“I know.” He didn’t imagine he'd be thinking differently if Abby had been taken from him like that. “But you’ve got two boys to look after. You need to think about them.”

“I’m trying to think about them,” John insisted. “I can’t- I can’t let them live in a world with that monster in it.”

“I know, John. But you gotta let the cops do their jobs. That’s what we pay taxes for. Just- You can stay here if you need a place but-”

“But I gotta get back on my feet?” John chuckled darkly. “I can’t, Bon. I-I can’t. The things I’ve seen, the things I know…. I can’t just let it go, I can’t. But…..” he sighed. “But I know I can’t bring the boys down with me.”

“John-”

“You don’t have to say yes. I’ve got other people I can ask-”

“John, you need help.”

“Why the hell do you think I’m here?!” John snapped. “I need- I need them to be safe. But I need to handle this myself and I can’t- I can’t take them with me. They don’t deserve to get pulled into this mess.”

“They don’t deserve their father to abandon them either.”

“I’m not abandoning them!” John started pacing. “I just- I need time. I know what I’m doing, I just need time. A year, maybe less. Hopefully less.”

Bonham let him get the energy out.

He shouldn’t agree to this. John needed help, not a revenge mission. Maybe he should agree on the condition John went to a therapist instead of a gun shop.

But John wouldn’t agree with it. And that wasn’t the only person he had to talk to, and he knew what Abby would say.

“Let me run it by my wife,” he said eventually. “Why don’t you bring the boys inside and we can talk?”

John’s shoulders relaxed. “Alright. Just give me a minute.”

—-----------

“Are we really thinking about this?” Abby asked him quietly. They’d retreated to the kitchen to talk while John watched his boys in the living room.

“I don’t agree with it either, Abby, but I don’t know what he’ll do if we don’t. Those boys need a home and if John won’t give it to them….”

Abby sighed. “I know, Bon, but we just had a boy ourselves in case you forgot and this hasn’t exactly been our best year….” She nervously twisted a dish towel in her hand and needlessly cleaned the counter. “How long did he say? A year?”

“He’s gonna aim for less than that but yes. But Abby….” He put a hand on her shoulder. “We have to be ready for it to be longer than that.”

She sighed and leaned into him. “I want to say yes. You know that.”

“I know.” Bonham kissed the top of his head. “If you think we can handle it, I can go buy another crib today.”

She tilted her head up for a kiss. “...Tell him we can do it. For one year. After that, he’s on his own.”

Bonham kissed her softly. “Alright. Make me a list of things we need for them and we can be set up in time for dinner.”

Abby hummed. “Find out what Dean’s favorite is and see if John will join us, would you?”

“Of course.”

—----------------

“But why do we have to stay here? Why can’t I go with you? I can help!”

John stared at his oldest son. How was he supposed to explain this to someone who wasn’t even old enough for kindergarten yet? “Dean…. This is something I have to do alone. And I need you to look after Sammy until I’m done.”

Dean swallowed hard and nodded tearfully. “O-Okay. When’re you gonna be done?”

John didn’t have an answer, so he made up one. “I’ll be back in time for your next birthday, okay? Be good for Bonham and Abby and look after Sammy for me, okay?”

Dean nodded and rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I-I can do that.” He bit his lip, then threw himself at John’s leg in a hug. “Come back soon, okay?”

“I will,” John lied. “Be good, okay?”

Dean nodded furiously, still not letting go of him. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, Dean. I love you too.”

John hugged him one last time, then got back in his car and drove away, leaving his sons in the rearview mirror.

He just needed to kill this demon. Once the demon was dead, they could be a safe, happy family again.

He wasn’t abandoning them, he just needed time.

[urfavcurlypookie]

The Winchester brothers x vampire reader

Mention of Interview with the Vampire 1994!

Warning: Dean being a dick head

Summary: you were in a band that was famous you played the guitar or sometimes sang with your brothers one played the drums while the other played the guitar and was the leader.

"Just give her time," Sam whispers, his voice barely audible. "She'll come to us when she's ready." "Time?" Dean hisses back, his voice tinged with frustration. "We've been standing here for ages, and she hasn't even looked our way. This is getting ridiculous. how would we even know to comfort a creature like her?" he didn't hesitate to call her a creature.

Sam sighs, recognizing the challenge in Dean's words. "She's not just a 'creature', Dean," he whispers back, his expression hardening. "She's a person, just like us. And people need time to process their pain, especially something as big as what she's going through."

Dean scoffs, the skepticism in his voice evident. "Yeah, but she's not exactly your average person, is she? She's a vampire, for god's sake. Who knows what her needs and emotions are like."

Sam closes his eyes, trying to keep his temper in check. "Maybe, but that doesn't make her feelings any less real. We've hunted creatures for years, Dean. We know they have minds, emotions, just like humans do. So don't write her off just because she's different."

Dean rubs a hand over his face, his frustration evident. "Fine, I'm not writing her off. But it doesn't change the fact that we suck at this whole emotional support thing, Sam. What are we supposed to say, 'Oh, sorry you haven't been human for centuries'?"

Sam lets out a huff of air. "It's not about finding the perfect words, Dean. It's about being there, listening, showing that we care. We've been through our own share of pain and hardship. Maybe we can relate more than we think."

"Well, isn't that heartwarming," Dean retorts sarcastically. "You think a couple of tragic childhoods make us qualified therapists now?"

"No, I'm not saying that," Sam responds, his patience fraying. "But we've been through pain and loss, just like she has. Maybe we can use that to connect with her, understand what she's going through."

"Connect with her?" Dean throws up his hands in frustration. "She's a vampire, Sam. A dangerous, blood-sucking creature. Do you really think she's interested in connecting with us? get it in your head Sam she's not a living thing but a creature of the dark who would have snap out necks by now if she wanted"

"And there it is again," Sam replies, his voice rising slightly "That prejudice and judgement. She hasn't hurt us, Dean. In fact, she's helped us, saved us more than once. You can't just label her as a mindless monster."

"I don't care about how she's helped us, Sam. I'm just pointing out the obvious," Dean snaps back. "We're hunters. We hunt creatures like her, monsters, not have emotional support group sessions with them."

"She's not like the other monsters we've hunted, Dean," Sam insists, his voice hardening. "We know her. We've fought alongside her. We've seen she has a conscience, feelings, just like us."

"Oh, right," Dean scoffs, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "A vampire with feelings. Real scary stuff. What, is she gonna start reciting poetry next?"

"Shut up, Dean," Sam shoots back, his irritation flaring up. "You're just being difficult for the sake of it. You can't see past your preconceptions and biases."

"And you're being too soft," Dean retorts, his gaze narrowing. "This is the monster business, Sam. We're supposed to hunt, not cuddle up and share feelings."

"It doesn't have to be one or the other, Dean," Sam counters, his voice firm. "We can be hunters and still have empathy for others. You're just too stubborn to see it."

"Oh, yeah, I'm the stubborn one," Dean rolls his eyes, his sarcasm turning into anger. "I'm not the one who's gone all bleeding heart over a bloodsucking creature."

Sam steps closer to him. "She's not just a bloodsucking creature, Dean. She's a person, and she deserves our respect and understanding, not your mockery and judgement."

Dean sneers, his face hardening. "Yeah, well, my respect is reserved for humans, not creatures like her. I'm not gonna waste my time on something that doesn't even have a soul."

"And you've drunk the damn Kool-Aid, Sam," Dean retorts, his voice rising to match Sam's. "You've gone all 'hug a monster' on me. Next thing I know, you'll be inviting her to sleepover on our motel rooms."

Sam takes a step forward, his patience snapping. "Don't be ridiculous, Dean," he retorts, his voice sharp. "I'm not saying we should treat her like a best friend. I'm saying we should treat her with some damn respect and understanding, considering the fact that she's helped us more than once, and not once has she thought to turn on us."

"Oh, wow, what a glowing endorsement," Dean mocks, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "She hasn't tried to kill us yet. What a saint. Maybe we should give her a thank you card."

"That's not the point, Dean, and you know it," Sam retorts, his voice hardening. "The point is, she's saved us, she's fought alongside us, and she's been nothing but loyal to us. Yet, you're still treating her like she's just another monster to be hunted down and killed. We don't even know her backstory yet or what happened to her"

"Who cares about her backstory?" Dean shoots back, his expression hardening. "She's a vampire, Sam. She's probably got a long list of victims under her belt. It doesn't matter if she's helped us or not. She's still a creature of the night, a bloodsucker."

"That doesn't make her a bad person," Sam counters, his voice steady. "Just because she's a vampire, it doesn't automatically make her evil. She's clearly shown compassion and decency. There's obviously more to her than what you're willing to see."

"And you're just willing to overlook all that because she's batted her eyelashes at you a few times," Dean retorts, his comment clearly meant to wound Sam.

Sam's jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing. "This has nothing to do with any of that. I just refuse to write off someone because of what they are, especially when they've proven time and time again that they're not a one-dimensional monster."

"Well, aren't you just the epitome of open-mindedness," Dean sneers, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I should tell you to start a charity for monster rehab next."

"You're being a jerk, Dean," Sam snaps back, his irritation clearly showing. "You can't even see past the fact that she's a vampire to appreciate the good things she's done for us. That's just sad and narrow-minded."

"Oh, so now I'm the jerk for not fawning over a vampire?" Dean retorts, his anger starting to boil over. "Sorry I've got my priorities straight, Sam. We're hunters, remember? Our job is to gank monsters, not make friends with them."

"Yeah, I remember, Dean. I just thought you'd have evolved enough to understand the complexity of the world by now," Sam shoots back, his own frustration bleeding into his tone. "But I guess I overestimated you. You're just content with categorising everything into black and white, good and evil."

"And you've gone soft," Dean fires back, his voice rising. "You've lost sight of what this job is about. It's not about playing nice with the monsters. It's about protecting people, saving lives. And sometimes, that means putting a bullet between the eyes of a bloodsucker."

"And what if the bloodsucker happens to be a good person?" Sam counters, his tone challenging. "What if they're just a victim of circumstance, just like you and me? Ever think about that, Dean?"

"Yeah, because that's common," Dean retorts sarcastically. "Vampires with a heart of gold. They just go around sucking blood for the hell of it and have a conscience. Give me a break, Sam."

"I'm not saying it's common, Dean. But it's not impossible," Sam responds, his voice calm. "You can't just lump all vampires into one category. They're not all mindless killing machines. Some of them are trapped in the cursed life they never asked for."

Dean rolls his eyes, clearly not convinced. "Oh, so now you're a vampire sympathiser? What's next, a petition to save the damn creatures?"

"No, of course not," Sam replies, his exasperation growing. "But I'm willing to consider the possibility that they're not all evil. Isn't it worth giving them a chance, at least? Or are you just scared of changing your close-minded views?"

"Scared? Me?" Dean scoffs. "Yeah, right. I just happen to think you're being an naive idiot, running around trying to play therapist to every monster we come across."

"It's called empathy, Dean," Sam snipes back. "You should try it sometime. Maybe it'll help you see beyond your narrow perspective." (AHH HE ATE THAT LIKE ALWAYS)

Dean lets out a bitter laugh. "Empathy? For monsters? Yeah, sure, Sam. And I'll just go ahead and join the Monster Fan Club while I'm at it, shall I?"

"Oh, grow up, Dean," Sam retorts, his irritation flaring. "The world isn't black and white. You can't just label everything as good or evil. There's so much complexity and nuance that you refuse to acknowledge."

"Nuance? Complexity? You're talking about monsters, Sam. Not people," Dean argues. "They're creatures that feed off people, that kill innocent people. And let's not forget they have no souls. Sorry if I'm a bit sceptical of their so-called goodness."

"And you think having no soul automatically makes them evil?" Sam presses. "Maybe it's time you broadened your thinking, Dean. Just because they don't have souls, doesn't mean they can't have complex emotions or moral codes. They may not have human souls, but they can still act in ways that reflect virtues like compassion or loyalty."

"Oh, please," Dean scoffs. "Compassion and loyalty? From a bunch of blood-thirsty monsters? I've yet to see a vampire go around doing good deeds just for the hell of it. They're predators, Sam. They don't care about anything except feeding and surviving."

"And you're so sure about that, huh?" Sam challenges. "Because you've met every single vampire in existence, right? Or is it just your convenient excuse to label them all as evil and not feel guilty about killing them?"

"I don't need to meet every damn vampire to know what they're like," Dean retorts. "We've hunted them for years, Sam. We know their nature. They're not like us, they're not humans. They're monsters, plain and simple."

Sam takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. "And you're not willing to consider the possibility that there might be exceptions? That not all vampires are mindless killers?"

"Exceptions? Sure, there might be a few," Dean relents, reluctantly. "But they're not the rule, Sam. The vast majority of vampires we've encountered have been just as ruthless and blood-thirsty as they come. The few "exceptions" don't change that."

"But they should still count for something, Dean," Sam replies. "You can't just ignore the existence of the ones who are trying to do good, just because most of them are evil. It's not fair to lump them all into the same category."

"Not fair?" Dean's gaze hardening. "Since when is hunting fair? It's not about being fair. It's about keeping innocent people safe from the monsters that threaten their existence. It's about making sure the good guys, the humans, survive. The vampires can fend for themselves."

"That's just it, Dean," Sam retorts, his voice rising. "We're not the good guys in their eyes. We're the hunters. We're the ones who come after them, trying to kill them with no remorse. Maybe if you could see things from their perspective, you'd understand that they're just trying to survive too."

"Oh, now you're playing devils advocate for the monsters?" Dean huffs. "Do you hear yourself, Sam? You're trying to justify their actions, like they're just misunderstood creatures fighting for survival."

"I'm not justifying anything, Dean," Sam counters, trying to keep his tone level. "I'm just trying to get you to see that their actions aren't black and white. It's easy for us to pass judgement, but we have no idea what they've been through, what they've had to do to survive."

"They're not worth our sympathy, Sam," Dean's voice hard. "They're monsters, plain and simple. They feed on innocent people, leave broken families and shattered lives in their wake. They're not misunderstood, they're not victims, they're predators. And they deserve to be put down."

Sam and Dean's argument continued to escalate, their voices growing louder and more heated with each passing moment. The tension in the air was palpable, the two brothers locked in a battle of wills, neither willing to back down.

"You're just stubborn, Dean. You think you're always right, that your way is the only way," Sam shot back, his voice raising as his frustration mounted. Dean let out a scoff, his irritation evident. "And you're too soft, Sammy. You let your emotions cloud your judgement, make you doubt yourself."

You who had been standing quietly nearby, could hear every word of the heated exchange between the brothers. Your keen hearing picked up their every word, the tension and emotion palpable in their voices.

You had seen the brothers argue before, but there was something about this argument that made your unusually concerned. Perhaps it was the intensity of their words, or the way their voices echoed in the space around them, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of worry in your chest.

As you listened to Sam arguing in her defense, she felt a mix of emotions wash over you. On one hand, you were touched by his words, his willingness to see past your vampiric nature and recognize that there was more to you than just a killer. On the other hand, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, knowing that you had caused this argument and put Sam in the middle.

You had never meant to cause a rift between the brothers, but it seemed that your presence had unwittingly become a source of tension between them. As you watched their argument continue, you found yourself torn between the desire to intervene and the fear of making things worse.

Despite your inner conflict, you found yourself unable to stay silent any longer. The argument between the brothers was getting too heated, and you couldn't just stand idly by and watch them tear each other apart. With a deep breath, you stepped forward.

"I never wanted to be turned into a vampire. I was 16 in the mid century, I was quite lovely back then I had a band with my brothers one played the drums and one sang and I played the guitar. Everything was great we had glory, fame everything kids could ask for...but I wanted a childhood also my father was a rockstar back in his time..I was turned into a vampire one night and taken away and this pair of men called me their daughter while there was a small girl with them who looked like a very lovely doll I must say...I had a family once again. But they were different " you say not making eye contact.

Dean and Sam quieted down, surprised by your sudden interruption. Their argument was forgotten, at least for the moment, as they turned their attention to you, listening intently to your story.

"I loved playing that guitar but with my new family I was more like a doll I felt like a child once again they dressed me like one they curled my hair into one I liked I mostly...but I felt different from others my pale skin and my red eyes, I missed being human but I was no longer one centuries passed I forgot what it meant to be one until I found you both. I know you don't trust me Dean but I wish for you to understand I would never harm you nor Sam" you looks at them "you have my word, and I never break it"

Dean's initial skepticism and anger faded as he listened to Anlie's story. Her words held a note of sincerity that he couldn't ignore, and he found himself being touched by her tragic tale of being turned against her will and losing her own life. But he still remained cautious, his hunter instincts cautioning him to be wary of the vampire, despite her seemingly innocent demeanor.

Sam, on the other hand, felt a strong surge of empathy for Anlie. He could see the pain and longing in her eyes, and he believed every word she said. He didn't understand why Dean was so resistant to the idea of trusting her.

"I...I know I don't have what it takes to be a kid once again but I would never harm anyone I only drink animal blood" you say being honest

Dean raised an eyebrow at her claim, his skepticism still evident. "And we're just supposed to take your word for it? How do we know you're not just saying that to get us to lower our guard?"

You look at him "I'm just a kid, probably haven't been one after being stuck as an immortal vampire...but I have feelings I think" she says confused.

Something in her words struck a chord with Dean, his expression softening just a bit. He could see the innocence in her eyes, a quality that was at odds with the image of a vicious monster that had been ingrained in his mind.

Sam noticed the slight change in Dean's demeanor, sensing that his brother's hardened stance was beginning to soften. He shot Dean a subtle look, silently encouraging him to give Anlie a chance.

Dean let out a reluctant sigh, his resistance slowly wearing down. "Alright, let's say we believe you for a moment. But how do we know you won't snap someday and go on a killing spree?" You smile "pinky promise I won't!" You put your pale pinky out.

Dean couldn't help but be a little taken aback by the childish gesture. He stared at you for a moment, uncertain how to respond. But eventually, he let out a resigned sigh and held up his own pinky. "Fine, pinky promise," he grumbled.

Sam hid a small smile, quietly pleased with the progress that was being made. He knew that it would take time for Dean to fully trust you, but he believed that deep down, you were trustworthy and deserving of a chance.