#sam's kept at a distance not to spare him from the horrors of hunting - it's also bc he's a potential liability

[finalgirlsamwinchester]

john @ sam

[katehuntington]

Title: I Can See Clearly Now Fandom: Supernatural (season 1) Characters: Dean Winchester (POV), Sam Winchester, Y/N Pairing: Dean x female feader Words: ± 5550 words Description: After a falling out, the Winchester brothers are on the road trying to find Y/N, who has taken on hunts alone. Then Dean gets a disturbing phone call and he needs to move fast if he wants to save the her life. Warnings: Angst! Adult language, canon typical violence, description of blood and injury. Speeding/on the phone while driving. Panic, crying. Description of medical procedures. Possible character death. Author’s note: This is a rewrite from an earlier one shot. I changed it to Dean’s point of view and I hope it captivates you all even more! Thank you, @mrswhozeewhatsis for being my super skilled Beta and helping me with this story. Thanks to you it really came full circle.

      “I just don’t understand why you can’t pick up the phone and call her.”       I ignore Sam, keeping my gaze fixed on the road ahead, as raindrops run up the windshield, trying to find the way of least resistance. Unintentionally, I clench my jaw, after which I sigh, frustrated. It’s not the first time he brought it up. Apparently my pain in the ass little brother can’t take a hint. You would assume that ‘college boy’ is able to pick up on my annoyed glares and awkward silences, or maybe he just chooses to dismiss them. I’m not sure which one is more stupid. 

      Trying to come off as casual and uninterested, I stare past the window wipers, which squeak every time the blades unblurs the glass. Then I shake my head slightly, both disagreeing and as a warning.       “We talked about this. I’m not calling her,” I state. “She made it clear that she needs to be alone.”       “Are you that blind?! Don’t you know her by now?!” Sam exclaims.       “No, I don’t, Sam! How can I if she keeps lying all the time?!” I can’t help but to raise my voice and I bite my tongue afterwards. It happens a lot these days, that I’m unable to keep my emotions in check, especially now that she ran for the hills.

      Over the last couple of months, Sammy and I grew closer to the young huntress, closer than we should have. Not that she made it easy for us, because she acted like a total bitch at first. In the beginning I thought she hated my guts, with her fighting me on every decision I made. But fate would have it that when shit hit the fan, Sam and I were there to catch her. So we teamed up and hunted together. The Three Stooges, the Musketeers. The good, the bad, and the ugly, Sam being the ugly one of course. We became more than just colleagues, more than just acquaintances. We became friends; we became family.

      I let that fundamental word echo through my mind as I ponder. It means a hell of a lot; I don’t go around calling anyone that. You gotta earn that title. Bobby Singer once told me, ‘Family don’t end in blood.’ I don’t think I fully understood what he meant, until Y/N became a part of our team. Sammy found a sister he never knew he wanted, a study buddy, a fellow nerd who he could get excited with over serial killer hauntings and prehistoric books. 

And I... I found someone I never expected to find: someone who brings out the best in me and makes me feel things I thought I wouldn’t be capable of, not after all the literal horror I’ve witnessed in my lifetime of hunting. I found a goofy kid who laughs at my lame jokes, a girl with an appetite of a trucker and the ability to drink me under the table. I found a rock chick who loves Zep and AC/DC and adores my car as much as I do. I found the woman who puts family first, is kind and generous, and never ceases to help others in need.

     You know what? I’m just gonna say it: I found the woman I’m in love with.

      Things were good between us. It must have been a month ago when I first kissed her. I downed five shots before I could muster up the courage, and still I found shooting a charging werewolf the night before less scary. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve kissed plenty of girls, but she isn’t just any chick. This was Y/N, and I really didn’t want to fuck it up. We hooked up several times, and it was always either epic or awesome. Despite that we were taking it easy, I fell hard for her.       Deep down, I always had this itch that she didn’t tell me the whole story. There was something she kept hidden. Little things gave her away. Short, almost unnoticeable hesitations. Starting a sentence by questioningly calling my name, and then dismissing it with a ‘never mind’. I never really pushed her, figuring that she would tell me when she was ready. It never got to that point, though. A week ago, the unthinkable happened.

      After almost a year of searching, the one person who we’ve been looking for stepped into our motel room: Dad. But the air in the room changed the second he laid eyes on Y/N, who didn’t hesitate to pull her gun on him. After a heated discussion with weapons drawn like in an old spaghetti western, the truth finally surfaced. Apparently Dad was working with Y/N’s parents, when a plan backfired and killed them both. Even though Dad was her guardian, he left Y/N at an orphanage. Since then, she had made it her life-long mission to get revenge. The easiest way to find Dad was to latch on to his sons. Every hunter has a justification to sign up for this life; John Winchester was hers.

      “She had a reason,” Sammy mentions, as if he could tell what was on my mind just now.       “You mean Dad?” I assume with a tone.       “He shouldn’t have left her like that. That’s all I’m saying.”       A silence follows as we both continue to stare into the darkness beyond Baby’s headlights.       “No, he shouldn’t have,” I agree, after several quiet seconds.       Surprised by that conclusion, Sam frowns. I can almost hear him thinking: did Dean just admit that Dad did something wrong?       “I’m not saying that what she did was a-okay. She still used us,” I correct.       “I don’t think she did,” my younger brother disagrees. “Y/N desperately tried to stay away from us, remember that? She was mean, you two were clawing each other’s eyes out...” The both of us smile faintly at that. “But somehow, we still stuck together, and it’s a good thing we did, because we all would have ended up dead without each other.”

      Sammy isn’t wrong there. Even two weeks ago, Y/N only just saved me from getting hanged by a poltergeist in an old hotel in Gold Canyon, Arizona. I remember waking up in the dust, noose still around my neck and her beautiful face above me, scared tears in her eyes after which she kissed me deeply.

      “Y/N wants us there, Dean,” Sam snaps me from my thoughts. “We need to back her up.”       “She’s the one who left, Sam,” I remind him, burdened.       A semi rushes by on the other lane. Its headlights blind me and illuminate Sam’s face, after which the light fades again as the Mack passes. The wipers shoot from right to left and back, offering me some kind of visual.

      “She thinks we’re still mad. She held Dad at gunpoint. I kinda get why she doesn’t think we can get back to how things were.”       “Who says we can?” I bring to mind.       Sam stares at me, his jaw dropped.       “You’re still holding a grudge? Seriously? He left her at a fucking orphanage, Dean! She grew up in seven different foster homes!”       “Does Dad sound like the kinda person who would just up and leave a kid he was responsible for?” I argue, feeling the anger starting to boil again.       “He did the same to us.”

      Sam eyes me coldly from his corner between the front bench and the door of the Impala. He has his arms crossed, his hair hanging before his eyes and everything about him says that he’s not going to agree with me. For a second I consider stomping the breaks and giving my brother a lecture, but instead I shoot him a glare.

      “Watch your mouth, Sam,” I warn, my tone low. “Dad never left for longer than a month. He did the best he could.”       “You were ten, Dean!” Sam exclaims. “And he expected you to take care of a six-year old kid!”       “And it didn’t turn out so bad, now did it?!” I shut him up. “Have you considered that maybe he wanted to spare Y/N this life? That that’s the reason why he left her at the orphanage?!”       “Bang up job on that,” my brother huffs.

      I hate it. I hate that a part of me agrees with Sammy. And so I don’t respond and let him win this argument, if there is such a thing as winning today. Contemplating, I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, pressing my prints into the leather. I’ve always lived in a black and white world. Monsters are evil, people are innocent. Kill the evil, save the innocent. Simple rules, straight-forward orders. I do what Dad tells me to do, because he’s the leader of this pack and he’s always right, right? 

     That’s the thing, I don’t know anymore. Dad forbid us from hanging with Y/N, because the girl they care so much for, holds him accountable for her fucked up childhood. No matter how you look at it, it’s an shitty situation that is forcing both me and my brother to pick a side.

      “Maybe creating some distance ain’t a bad idea. This business doesn’t allow us to be social. The more people we care about, the more people die,” I say, breaking the awkward silence.       “So what, you wish we’d never met her? That’s what you’re saying?” my brother scoffs.       “No, Sam! I’m saying that I’m worried. I’m worried that this - this, whatever this is, will split our family up!”  Frustrated I accelerate, despite the slippery wet asphalt.

      “Look, Dean…” Sam lets the air flow off his lips, struggling to ease it on me. “I know there’s more going on between you and Y/N--”       I roll my eyes. “Oh, here we go.”       “I know that Dad got in your head when he ordered us to stay away from her. I heard him say that she’s an enemy of this family… She isn’t, though. She’s a part of this family. She’s more to you, I can see it in the way you look at her. Plus, motel walls are thin.”       I can’t help but to smirk at that. Seems like we woke someone up after I snuck to her room on several occasions.       “All jokes aside, you love her, Dean.”       I freeze, then manage to open my mouth in order to respond to that, but Sammy beats me to it. Thankfully, because I’m sure ‘I do not!’ would have gotten a good laugh.       “You don’t have to say anything, I don’t need a confirmation from you to know that it’s true. But before you close that door, think about how precious that is,” he explains. “I had that kind of love with Jess and I lost it. I would do anything to get that back. Think it through before you let her go, that’s all I’m saying.”

      “We’ll locate her, make sure she’s okay, then we go from there. Who knows, maybe we can work this out. But you can’t expect me to choose her over Dad, Sam,” I add, when I see a hopeful spark in my brother’s eyes.       “I‘m not. But I do think that now would be the time to start having a mind of your own,” he suggests.       “I’m here trying to find her, ain’t I? Dad would kill me if he knew,” I remind him.

      Our father was against this little rescue mission and I knew that going down this road will put a big dent in his trust. On the flip side, letting Y/N run off in the state of mind that she was in, feels wrong too. What if something snatches her and we’re not there to back her up? I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.       Suddenly my Metallica ringtone reverberates through the car; someone is ringing my cell. Who the hell would call at this hour?        I take my phone out of my pocket and check the display, then my heart stops. An eerie sensation fills my stomach and creeps up my throat. She wouldn’t casually call, not after that clash three days ago.       I pick up hastily. “Y/N?”       “Dean…”       It’s her all right, but a peculiar fear causes the hair on the back of my neck to stand up when I hear her say my name. The fear that surfaces whenever Sammy’s in trouble, or Dad is. Hearing the sound of her voice isn’t as comforting as I hoped it would be. It’s weak, trembling, almost a whisper. I immediately know something is off.

      “Are you okay?”       “No – no, I’m not,” she cries. “Dean…”       I close my eyes for a split second, then stare down the road again. Fuck. She just admitted that she’s not okay. It has to be bad, otherwise she wouldn’t… Fuck! I swallow down a lump in my throat and glance aside at my brother, who stares back and instantly reads that something bad has happened.       “Are you hurt?” I ask, worried.       She doesn’t actually answer my question, but I can hear her respiration, breaths hitching with every inhale; she’s in pain.       “I need your help.”       “Where are you?” I ask quickly, not wanting to waste any time.       “Lincoln… 1722 Tremont, in an empty warehouse,” she answers with difficulty.

      I look over my shoulder and only need a split second to read the sign beside the road; Lincoln is the other way. With my phone pressed between my shoulder and my ear, I hit the brakes hard and turn the wheel completely to the left with both hands. Baby slips and makes a 180° as Sam holds on for dear life. When we’re facing the road to Lincoln, I push the gas pedal down completely. With shrieking tires my car catches grip on the slippery asphalt again and races away, fishtailing, leaving a trail of burned rubber. I take the phone back in my hand, speeding up to a hundred miles an hour.       “Listen to me, Y/N. You’re gonna keep talking to me, okay? Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes, understand?” I beg her.       Whimpers from the other side; she’s crying. I’m mentally kicking myself for letting her go in the first place, my heart breaking as I listen to her despair.       “Hey now, it’s okay… It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. I’ll be right there,” I hush her, trying to tone down my own anxiety to a minimum.       “I’m sorry, for leaving and… and the fight with your dad.”       “That doesn’t matter right now, don’t worry about it. We’ll figure this out, just like we always do,” I promise.

      It’s quiet on the other side, but I can hear the blood rushing through my veins. As I push Baby to her limits, I send up a short prayer to the God I don’t believe in. Anything that helps.       “Dean, if this...” she sobs. “If this is it, you need to know that I--”       “- No, no, no, no, no. Don’t you dare start that goodbye shit, you hear me?” I interrupt, harshly, but regretting my tone the second I can practically hear the tears fall. “You can tell me later, alright? It’s gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine.”       My eyes have filled with tears over the course of the conversation, but I blink them away, nowhere near ready to admitting that this might be the last conversation I ever have with her. She has to be okay. There is no other option, I’m not gonna accept an outcome that is anything less.       “Please hurry.”       “I’m going as fast as I can, sweetheart. Only ten minutes behind you,” I tell her. “Did you call an ambulance?”       “No, I can’t…” Her voice fades, getting weaker by the second, but she’s able to whisper. “They’re still here.”

      It feels like someone just knocked the wind from my lungs. Holy shit, this won’t be just a rush to hospital. Is she kept hostage? Maybe they left her for dead, for bait maybe?       “What are they, Y/N?”       But she doesn’t answer. The only thing I can hear is the constant distortion from the phone connection.       “Y/N?”       Nothing.       “Y/N! Answer me!” I yell into the phone.       Not a word, not even the sound of respiration. Frustrated, I throw my phone in the back seat and step on the gas even harder, although Baby can’t go any faster.       “FUCK!!!” I cuss out loud as I slam the steering wheel.

      The Impala dangerously speeds up I55. Anxiety is jolting through every nerve, mixing with multiple feelings I can’t even begin to explain. Sam watches me, I can feel his gaze burn in the side of my head. Only for a moment, I glance at him, about to explain to him what’s going on, but I can’t. If I say it out loud, I acknowledge that this is happening. 

      Sammy’s eyes are wild, apparently not sure what question to ask first.       “She got caught?” he asks, scared.       “No, she called to make me an offer on better cable!” I snap sarcastically, going out of my mind. “Yeah, she got caught!”       “You know what snatched her?” he interrogates.       “I would have told you if I knew, Sam!”

      From the corner of my eye I can see Sam swallow hard. It’s doesn’t happen often that I lash out like this, I hope he understands. I’m glad that he doesn’t push any further, because a lump the size of a brick obstructs my throat as my mouth runs dry. 

     You stupid, stupid idiot. 

     How could I have let her go like that? Lecturing myself won’t help her, but I can’t stop the guilt from boiling over inside of me. I need to save her. It’s the only way to make this right.

      Without switching on the turn signal, I take the exit and skid through the tight corner. At the following intersection I run a red light, a station wagon swerving out of the way, but I don’t give a shit. I don’t care for a speed bump either, but when the exhaust pipe hits the asphalt as my car bounces off the damn thing and leaves a spray of sparks in our wake. I give the dashboard a pat. Sorry, Baby.

      “What do we prepare for?”       Sam looks at me, waiting for my lead. It’s a solid question, because I have no idea what we’ll be facing. I go over the handful of clues: cattle mutilations, several dead, bled out bodies. They are all omens, but we weren’t tracking a case, we were tracking Y/N. I didn’t study the signs well enough to judge them, so I shrug desperately. Fuck, I wish I had paid more attention.       “I don’t know… uh, werewolf, demon?” I shoot, panicky, but then I remember something that she mentioned. “They are still here.”       “What?”       “The last thing she said; they are still here,” I repeat. “We’re talking about more than one, that gives us something. Whatever this is, they’re working as a team. Demons? Vamps?”       “Holy water and dead man’s blood it is,” Sammy concludes, as I take a left, barely slowing down.

      We approach a more remote section of town. Old rigs and factories tower over us, some of the buildings still in use, others empty. Tremont, it says on the corner of the narrow street; this is it. With no time to lose I reach over in the glove department to get my flask of Holy water. Sam quickly opens the door, the pouring rain hitting him as soon as gets out. My wise little brother heads to the trunk to get armored up, but I can’t wait for that. As he digs through the weapons, I bolt towards the factory.       “Dean! What the hell?!” I hear Sammy exclaim.       “You take everything out of the trunk that might come in handy, I’ll go find Y/N!” I tell him, without awaiting a response.       “Wait! You can’t go in like that!” my brother objects.       But I don’t listen. I don’t give a rat’s ass that I don’t have back up, that I’m going in blind. With my gun pulled out, I approach a door with white numbers; 1722. My own heartbeat drums in my ears, fast and restless, as I hold my weapon in front of me, finger off the trigger, but ready to point and shoot at anything that isn’t Y/N. With a fierce kick I free the door from its hinges and scan the place, holding my flashlight above my pistol.       “Y/N!!”        No answer, just the echo of my own voice sounding through the high empty spaces, only disturbed by the rain on the roof. In a fast, yet careful pace I move further, but then halt, startled. On the floor, only a few feet away, the light shimmers on a body, motionless, just a pile of human. The sound that erupts from my throat is one I don’t recognize to be mine.       “NO!!!”

      I hasten towards her and crouch down. I knew she was in trouble when I heard her fragile voice, but her state shocks me to the core. She lays face down in her own blood, and I force myself to stop shaking as I carefully turn her over. In her left hand I find a cell phone, 911 is still on the line. Quickly, I take the device and put it to my ear.       “Hello? Anyone there?”       “This is Ali from 9-1-1 emergency. There’s an ambulance on its way over to the Tremont intersection, sir. Can you tell me who you are?”       Smart girl. She called for help, but made sure we would find her first, not wanting to lead the helpless first responders into this dangerous place. I wipe her hair out of her face, cupping it with my left hand. Fuck, she feels cold. It heightens my fear to a new degree.       “I just found her, hurry up!” I tell the woman on the phone, desperately.       “A medical team is on its way, sir. They are just a few minutes out.”       “She doesn’t have a few minutes!” I exclaim.       “Does she show any signs of life?”       I check her pulse, but the outcome almost stops my own heart.        “No, no, no. She’s not breathing…” I notify the dispatcher, in shock. “C’mon, Y/N… Not like this.”

      I want to panic. I want to shake her, yell at her to wake up. I hear 9-1-1 emergency in the background, instructing me to perform CPR if I know how. But as I look down at her face, I notice something out of the ordinary. The operator’s static voice fades out as a beam from the streetlights outside is interrupted. I looks over my shoulder, watching Sam rush towards me.       “Vampires!!” I shout, my hand blocking the blood flowing from Y/N’s main vein through a set of bite marks.

      Just in time, because my younger brother can only just intercept an attack from above by one of the creatures, right before it releases its teeth on him. A second and a third appear from the dark and Sammy pulls out his machete. We both look around in disbelief while more vamps show themselves. I swallow hard; we walked right into a fucking nest!

      “Get her out of here!” Sammy shouts above the noise of struggle.       Not wasting time, I pick up her lifeless body from the ground and carry her to the exit, while my brother covers us. I try to ignore the blood that is dripping down my arms when I run out of the factory, the soaking rain drenching us the second we’re exposed to the elements. As fast as my legs can carry us, I hasten towards the main street. I have to get her to that ambulance. They can get her to the hospital and doctors will save her, right? I have to try. 

But when I glance down at that gorgeous face under the dreary skies and cold streetlights, I stop. By the sight of the girl I lost my heart to, I know. She has turned stone cold, there’s no blood left in her body, eyes slightly opened and pupils dilated. Her head bobbles over my arm limply, her messy hair stained with blood, hanging sadly in the rain.

      “Y/N?”

      Honestly I don’t know why I call her name. I know she can’t hear me, I know she’s… I pull in a shuddering breath, the glint of hope I had crushed by reality. I’ve seen death from up close plenty of times before, I know its face. And right now as I’m holding her in my arms, I see it, too. I swallow apprehensively while my bottom lip trembles as I exhale.       “No, no, no…” I whimper. “God, please no… Y/N, please!”       I just stand there until my knees buckle, with my girl in my arms, dead weight. Helpless and broken I close my eyes and look up at the sky, hoping for a miracle, a sign from above, anything. I’m so desperate that I’m even asking God for help, the man upstairs who has never done me any favors. Nothing happens, nothing changes. And so I pull her into my chest as I let my tears run free, resting my forehead to hers.

     My sweetheart, she’s gone… And I didn’t even get to say it, how much I care for her. On the phone earlier, I shouldn’t have interrupted her when I got too scared of what possibly laid ahead. Jesus, why didn’t I let her speak? Why did I let her go? This is all my fault.

      I rake my fingers through her hair and pull her into my chest for the last time, when a familiar sound catches my attention. Sirens grow louder, and when I direct my attention to the road ahead, an ambulance speeds around the corner and stops in front of us with shrieking tires. Two paramedics get out.       “Sir, I need you to lay her down,” one tells me, as he positions the backboard. “Did you find her?”       “Yeah, she was in the middle of the street.” I lie, continuing her plan to keep the first responders away from the danger in the warehouse.       The paramedics work fast, quickly hooking her up to a monitor.       “No pulse. No respiratory sounds.”       “Push 1 milligram of epi,” his partner responds as he starts compressions.

      It hurts to watch them work her chest so hard, putting in lines and drugs to get her back. She can’t feel it, I know she can’t, but it seems wrong. The monitor shows a flat line and a continuous beep interrupts the silence on scene. I back out and let them work, although I slowly begin to grasp that it’s pointless. Then I glance over my shoulder at the warehouse, torn between Y/N and my brother. I know I need to get in there and back Sam up, there’s nothing I can do for her anymore.       “Where you taking her?” I ask before I leave, my voice broken.       “Lincoln Medical Center,” the paramedic answers, before I make a run for it. “Hey! Where are you going? Sir!”       I don’t have the time to linger and hasten back to the warehouse. As I run, I take the bullets out of my Colt M1911, rubbing them in my bloody hands; that should teach those fuckers. With every step that I move away from Y/N, hate and anger multiplies, racing my veins like a deserted road. I’m gonna kill every single one of those bloodsuckin’ bitches, even if it’s the last thing I do. 

     Determined, I reload my gun and enter the large building, right in time to shoot one of the vampires from Sam’s back before it sinks its teeth into his neck. While I march in, I take out a knife, swipe the tip across the ground though the puddle of blood that Y/N left behind, and bury it in the guts of a creature who was coming at me. The thing looks me in the eye in shock, her injury stopping her mid action, choking with her mouth open and teeth visible. Driven by revenge I push the knife in deeper, fury causing my lip to twitch as I stare her down.       “Dead girl’s blood, bitch,” I snarl and then pull out the knife.

      The vamp falls down on the ground and tries to crawl away, but she can’t get far, completely paralyzed by the toxins running through her body. Another vampire picks her up from the floor and quickly flees. Sammy - out of breath and covered in blood splatters, caused by the messy beheadings - picks up the machete that he lost in the fight, ready to chop off heads if anything dares to come closer. Two well-armed and skilled hunters are enough reason for the rest of the nest to pull back and get the hell out of dodge. In a matter of seconds we are the only ones in the abandoned warehouse, alone in the dark.

      With questioning eyes, Sammy seeks eye contact, but I avert mine in time. Instead I stare down at my bloody hands, still holding the knife. Silently I put it away as my gaze freezes on the puddle of blood left by Y/N, watching my own reflection. Her blood worked, it intoxicated the vampires and turned out to be highly effective. Only the blood of the dead can do that. The fact that it harmed our opponents means only one thing. When I finally dare to meet my brother’s gaze and let him be a witness of the devastation, Sam knows. 

      Staggered, shocked and unable to act, Sammy folds his hands behind his head as he turns away from me. When he has gone full circle, I can see the tears shimmer in his eyes through his brown hair. I can’t stand the sight of my little brother being so upset, so I wander a few steps away. My hands are clenched in fists of rage, but it is not just anger I feel. Guilt, helplessness, desperation, sorrow. And this gaping hole that only grows larger with every loved one I lose. I lost her... I fucking lost her!

     Furious and out of control, I take my frustration out on two garbage cans. Raging, I kick them over and let out a loud tormented cry. I can feel Sam’s eyes on me, unable to respond. He’s speechless, but the sorrow in his expression tells more than words could ever say.

     I calm down, but only because the outburst doesn’t help me one bit. And so I place my hands in my side and swallow with difficulty, out of breath from boiling over. I can feel my eyes glaze over, but I don’t bother to turn away from Sam. I try to be his tough brother, someone he can look up to. A grown man crying doesn’t fit into that picture. But right now, I couldn’t give a shit who sees the tears that begin to roll down my cheeks, as I stare at the crimson pool in front of me.

      My younger sibling snivels, breathes in deeply and collects himself.      “We - uh…” his voice fails him completely, catching him off guard. He swallows and clears his throat. “We better clean this mess up, before the police get here.”       I just nod, numbed by the pain.

      It takes a couple of extra seconds before either of us actually gets to work. Without saying another word we cover our tracks. A thousand questions dwell on my mind, but those questions will remain unanswered. Hundreds of ‘what if's’, even more ‘if only’s’. What if I had stayed with her? Would she be smiling opposite of me in a small booth of the local diner right now? Did she love me? That was what she tried to say over the phone, wasn’t it? Why the hell did I cut her off? Why the hell didn’t I tell her first? How could I promise her that it was gonna be okay? I didn’t say enough and yet too much, unspoken words and broken promises. Did she know how I felt?

     You fucking coward, I think to myself. This is exactly what you deserve.

      These are only a handful of thoughts that cross my mind as we clean up the carnage. The lack of answers will weigh on my shoulders for as long as I live. Not knowing is horrible, but the reality that is her death, makes it all so much worse. I can’t find solace in self-hatred, not in the vampire corpses as we get rid of the bodies, not in the sudden change of the weather when we exit the building. 

     I’ve reached my car already when I realize that the rain has stopped falling. I take a moment to look up at the stars that peek from behind the passing clouds, bright against the dark night sky. Minutes ago it was pouring, but now everything is clear. Tonight, Sammy and I lost our friend, our family. Tonight, I lost the woman I love.

      There, I said it: I love you, Y/N.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if  you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work  or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page).

[hnrywinchester]

Fare Thee Well - - Chapter 10

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Paring: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, character deaths, PTSD Gabriel, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 4.4k

Gabriel froze. There he was. Loki. He was leaning up against the wall, dressed in one of those ridiculous vests as always, his face still stuck in that ‘someone-pissed-in-his-Wheaties’ expression even after all these years. However, Gabriel’s gaze was quickly pulled from his former friend to the cowering figure at his feet. Liv. She was sitting on her knees, one of Loki’s hideous neckties wrapped tightly around her mouth, gagging and suffocating her slowly. Loki’s hand was clutching her long, brown pony tail, effectively holding her in place beside him as if it were a leash. His stomach dropped at the sight. From what he could tell, she was generally unharmed. Her clothes were intact, one eye looked slightly swollen, but beyond that she was in one piece. Her mind was a different story, but Gabriel prayed he’d arrived on time.

“Liv…” Gabriel gasped, his voice shaking from rage and fear together, “what did you do to her?”

Loki smirked, happy to be eliciting the desired emotion from the angel, “Your pet told me she didn’t much compare to a horse, but I believe I have to disagree. Don’t you?”

With a guttural growl, Gabriel took a step towards him, ready to lunge, uncaring that the katana meant for him was missing with the elder Winchester. As his foot lifted from the floor, Loki responded. In one swift movement he pulled what Gabriel recognized as Liv’s hunting knife from the waist of his slacks and held it to her throat, freezing him in his path.

“Not one more step, or I’ll bleed her like a pig. I know you don’t have what it takes to heal her either. So no bluffing,” Loki taunted, cocking his head to one side, “It really would be a shame. I’ve taken a liking to her.”

Rage boiled Gabriel’s blood as he stared at the blade held to Liv’s throat, his nostrils flaring. He was helpless, there was nothing he could do to help her, besides obey. Her expression was unreadable, at least from this distance, her eyes refusing to meet his from across the hallway. This was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to happen, and he’d let it. He shouldn’t have let her walk out of that hotel room, he should never have run without an explanation, this was his fault. As always.

When Loki took a step toward him, Liv obediently fell to her hands and crawled along the floor beside him and Gabriel could feel the satisfaction radiating off of the Demi-God. This was pure heaven for him, complete control and power over not one, but two beings. This was what he lived for, toying with people, emotions and situations, molding everything into entertainment for himself. Gabriel couldn’t wait to end him once and for all. The question was how without losing her in the crossfire.

Loki came to stand a foot away from him, that smug grin still plastered on his face, “Get on your knees and beg,” he commanded.

As the words left his lips, he pressed the tip of the blade into Liv’s skin, her eyes snapping shut in pain as she held back her cry. Gabriel’s lip curled into a snarl as he slowly dropped, his eyes staying locked on the mirror image of his own. When his knees hit the floor, he kept his gaze strong and his body stronger. He may be on his knees but that didn’t mean he was giving in.

“Pathetic,” Loki ridiculed, “Look at what you resort yourself to. For what? A human? Are you that desperate for affections?”

With quick pull on her hair, Loki jerked Liv’s body level with the angel’s, their faces inches apart.

“Look at her,” he ordered, tugging her a little harder.

Slowly, Gabriel pulled his eyes from his opponent to hers, unprepared for the guilt that would undoubtedly wash through him. He felt his brow relax as her brown eyes met with his, his murderous stare softening. From here he could see her red, swollen eyes, bloodshot and filled with sorrow. They weren’t fearful like he’d been expecting, which raised questions as to what tortures Loki had subjected her to in the hour he’d had her. Her lips were strained against the pull of the fabric between them, her breathing hard as she tried to take in as much air her nose would allow. A bruise was forming beneath her right eye, she’d been hit by who he assumed was Sleipnir when he’d taken her captive but he couldn’t be sure. Loki generally tried to remain as unphysical as he could, he was all mind games and theatrics. Gabriel tried his best to apologize with his eyes, he could feel his lips downturning into a frown as she looked at him, helpless. She looked as if she’d given up, and that was not a phenomena that he was at all familiar with.

“Tell him,” Loki spat, “Show him the real person he falls to his knees for.”

With a quick tick of his wrist Loki cut the tie from around her mouth, causing her to gasp in mouthfuls of air as her body recovered from its lack of oxygen. Her chest heaved as she whimpered quietly, her eyes never leaving Gabriel’s, fear spilling into them.

“Please,” she begged, her voice raspy and exhausted, she’d been screaming, “please…”

“Tell him,” Loki demanded again, “or I will.”

“It’s okay,” Gabriel comforted, his heart racing in panic, “it’s okay, sweetheart. You can tell me.”

Her throat was closing in on itself, her tongue frozen in her mouth. He wasn’t making this any easier, with those anxiety-stricken eyes and soft frown, his tone so adoring even now. Half of her thought that Loki killing her was the better option, but she knew that Gabriel would blame himself and leaving him with that guilt to bear for eternity just wasn’t something she could do. The guilt was hers to bear, and it was time to come clean.

“I didn’t look for you,” she confessed, tears pouring from her eyes as the words left her lips in the form of choked sobs, “When you didn’t come back, I never looked for you. I never tried to find you. I… left you. I tried to forget you. I’m sorry! Baby, I’m so sorry…”

Liv’s wrenching sobs echoed through the empty space as she fell to her forearms, burying her face into the floor as she wept. She’d meant to bury that, he was never supposed to know, it was the one secret she meant to take to her grave. She couldn’t bear to look at him, the betrayal that would be etched into his face would haunt her until her dying day.

Gabriel stared at the floor, trying to process what he’d just heard. His chest was constricting as he fought the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. Not here, not in front of Loki. That would give him the ultimate trophy for this monopoly he’d designed, but his heart was breaking. Deep down he knew it was a good thing, that she’d never tried, she’d be dead. Yet, knowing that she’d never even attempted felt like every day of the past twelve years were all… for nothing. She loved him, so he thought, but maybe she didn’t?

“She left you. To rot,” Loki sneered, finally dropping his hold on Liv’s hair as he’d rendered her immobile with emotion alone, “yet you risk your life to save her, time and time again. She doesn’t love you. Who could? Ineffectual, degenerate little runaway. Not even daddy wanted you. You’re going to die, alone, for nothing. With no one to mourn you.”

“That’s not true, “ Liv sputtered, lifting her head to only be swiftly knocked in the temple by Loki’s foot.

With that one action, Gabriel’s rage won. He leapt from his knees and tackled the Norse Trickster, knocking him to his back.

“Go!” Gabriel yelled, flipping his eyes to Liv quickly, Loki’s elbow connecting with his chin before he could even turn his eyes back.

Everything in her was telling her to run, to find Sam and Dean, but as she watched as Loki gained the upper hand on Gabriel, she couldn’t bear to leave his side. She scurried against the wall, pressing herself as far into the plaster as she could, watching on as Loki rose to his feet.

“You think you’re some… poor innocent victim?” Loki began, walking over to Gabriel’s hunched form and planting another brutal punch to his jaw, “Gabriel with his deadbeat daddy and his mean older brothers. ‘Who will help me?’ ‘Who will save me?’ I did!”

Gabriel groaned as Loki lifted him by his jacket, pinning him against the wall by his neck, he knew Liv hadn’t left and he spotted her against the wall near the door to the penthouse, he needed to do something. He couldn’t lose. Not now. Neither one of the men had noticed the Winchesters come into view, but she did. She also saw what Dean was holding in his hands, Loki’s sword.

“But you… you couldn’t keep one promise. And then you had the audacity to ask me to help you… AGAIN?!” Loki continued, throwing Gabriel down the hall, landing right in front of her with his back facing her, “You think I deserve to die for your spinelessness? That my sons deserved to die?! For her!? You let my father die for a some wallowing Jezebel you found on the side of road and decided you wanted to keep!?”

Liv watched on in horror as Loki pounded the angel into the ground, flinching with each smack of his fist on Gabriel’s face. He’d been thrown in Loki’s angry speech and was now lying a foot away from her, Loki still yelling in the distance. This was her chance. She pushed herself from the wall over to his crumpled body, grabbing his shoulder with her hand and turning him to face her. Even though she knew she only had mere seconds to spare, she placed her hand on his cheek softly, running her fingers down the stubble of his jaw. His cheek was split open, his hair messily splayed around his face, he almost looked like he didn’t even care to fight anymore.

“Get up,” she whispered intently, “get up, and finish this.”

As she finished her request, he felt something slide into his hand, the wooden handle of Loki’s sword. Then her hand slowly closed around his, locking his fingers around the weapon.

“Silly girl,” Loki mocked, “He will lead you to your death, and blindly you will follow.”

When Loki spoke to her, her gaze never moved from Gabriel’s. Her eyes were strong, willing him to continue and finish this mission once and for all. She didn’t know where she stood with him anymore, nor did she want to, knowing it would no longer be in high regard, but she refused to watch him roll over and die.

Finally, Gabriel rolled to his feet, grabbing his former friend by his vest and whirling him around to press his back into the wall, the tip of the katana now gently resting against his abdomen. Loki laughed, letting his head loll against the surface behind him.

“Clever girl,” he chided, “of course you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass.”

“Shut up,” Gabriel snapped, shoving the blade against Loki a little harder.

“Face it, old friend, you’re a joke. You’re a failure. You couldn’t even keep the one thing you cherished above all else. You stand for nothing. And in the end, that’s exactly what you’ll die for.”

“You first.”

With one single groan as Gabriel shoved the blade deep into his stomach, Loki fell limp against Gabriel’s hold. Liv sighed in relief, knowing that now it was over. Gabriel’s quest for vengeance was complete and she hoped that he felt better. That he felt free. Yet, she knew this also brought a whole new level of problems to the table. Now he knew. He knew that she’d walked off and abandoned him, written him off like a bad date and moved on. Although she hadn’t, he’d still occupied every waking thought she had, there was no way explanation of why she’d done what she had. Certainly he would want one though, and she knew he deserved it.

“Oh thank god, so it’s over? We can go now?” Dean sounded from the doorway, his annoyance over this entire task still very evident in his voice.

Liv knew Gabriel’s eyes were locked on her, but she couldn’t meet them. Whether it was shame, embarrassment or fear keeping her from him she wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t face him. Quickly, she turned and sped off back to the ground floor. Running from her responsibilities was nothing short of a talent of hers, it was probably the one thing she did best. She knew it was a temporary solution, giving her maybe ten minutes at best before he’d undoubtedly be standing in front of her. His golden eyes would be glowing in the sunlight, looking at her with the disdain she deserved. Devoid of all the love they once held.

Leaning with her back against the Impala she waited, trying to gather her thoughts and organize them as best as she could. She knew what his first question would be: why? She knew why, but it wasn’t going to sit well with him. After he’d come back, her reasoning had been pounded to dust. Everything she’d thought to be reality had turned out to be nothing more than some sick, twisted alternate universe created solely by her own apathy. She’d brought him down to her level and he was far, far above it.

“Are you okay?” a quiet, soft voice asked from in front of her, her eyes still locked on the pavement beneath her feet.

That was not the first question she was expecting, although it should have been. He was always thinking of her first.

“I’m fine,” she lied, her voice still heavy with her lingering tears.

“You’re lying.”

Of course he knew. Hearing those words from his mouth did not help her situation, she’d never meant to lie to him. She never really had before. Not since they’d started whatever this was. She’d always trusted him with every secret, every feeling and he always accepted it. Except this time. No way he stayed true after this.

Still trying to escape her situation, she’d climbed into the backseat of the car, cornering herself like a rat. He followed, determined for answers that she didn’t want to give.

“Why didn’t you look for me?” he asked, keeping his voice gentle and void of an accusing tone, “I mean, better you didn’t, you’d be dead. But not at all?”

Liv felt her bottom lip begin to quiver as guilt went pummeling through her. The sadness in his question was hard enough to hear, but the look on his face was worse. She could still see the complete devotion he held for her, the esteem and the love. If she’d never let herself get taken, she’d be wrapped in his arms right now, their lips in a battle of affections as they reunited finally. He was supposed to be fixed, ready to take on the second act of his life, post-trauma, with her. They were retiring, jaunting off to some quiet, happy place to live out their days. Her days…. But no. They were here, in the back of the impala with an impossible mountain of regret settling between them.

“I thought you never came back…. Because you just didn’t want to. I thought, you didn’t want it anymore,” she told him, her voice heavy with shame, “I just… figured… you’d moved on…”

“Wait…” he began, his eyebrows furrowing, “thought I didn’t want what? You?”

As she sighed she felt him slide in closer towards her, but he was careful not to touch her. Whether it was because he didn’t want to or was afraid to she wasn’t sure, but she wished he would. Ever since he’d come around, she’d always felt like far less than he’d ever deserved, even less than anything he’d actually want. She was plain, boring, her hair was always messy and her life was even messier. She never wore makeup, or dressed in anything but hunter’s clothes, a stark difference to any company he’d kept in the past. When he never returned after the Apocalypse, it was something she’d been anticipating for years before. Now she realized she just had had no faith in him, he’d been there, proving himself to her, but she’d never believed it.

“Gabriel, I’ve never been-” she began before he cut her off.

“Don’t say it. If you think I’m someone who would waste my own time on anything other than what I want, you know me a lot less than I thought you did. After everything? You still don’t believe that I love you? What do I have to do, Liv? Pull the moon out of the sky and give it to you? Years. We were together for years, and you…”

He felt himself growing angry, and he didn’t want to lash out at her. Throwing the door open, he emerged back into the Colorado sun, trying to understand her reasoning. He’d been devoted, he knew he had. He loved her, once she came around he’d never wanted anything else. His mind never wandered, nor his eyes, and he gave her everything, but she still didn’t believe him. Did she ever trust him? He knew he had a… colorful past, but never once had he given her any reason to doubt him. Yet as soon as he’d left, she’d just… let him. Had she been relieved?

Watching him as he paced outside the car, she stifled back her cry. Her cheeks ached enough, her eyes burned, everything hurt from her fight with that doppelgänger asshole, and all she wanted was sleep. He wasn’t as angry as she thought he’d be, but that anger was replaced with disappointment and she wasn’t sure which was worse. She always knew he’d loved her in some way, but just because she’d known it didn’t mean she’d accepted it. She was far less than what he was capable of having, but anytime she’d broached the subject he’d always just shot it down. It made sense, the idea of her feeling that way was so preposterous to him that he wanted to shove it out of her mind, but it had never really left. Letting her body relax against the side of the door, she watched as Gabriel began talking to with Sam. His little smile alone was enough to brighten her mood, even if only for a moment.

When he climbed into the back seat once more, she cowered deeply into the corner. He looked over at her and she again, refused to meet his gaze, instead focusing on the pavement as Dean started the drive back to Kansas. She knew she was safe for now, Gabriel wouldn’t do anything with the Winchesters here. As theatrical as he was, he appreciated privacy at all the right times, this being one of them. As the scenery became monotonous, she found herself falling to sleep, the day’s events finally catching up with her. When her head lolled back against the old, worn leather, she was a goner.

One hill climbed, another one to go. Every time he felt like he was winning, another block showed up smack in the middle of the road. She thought he didn’t want her. After some of his anger had subsided, he wondered what he’d done to fail her so deeply that she would anticipate him walking out on her. He always knew she didn’t think the best of herself, but he’d always told her that her supposed shortcomings were all in her own head. She loved him, he knew that. She’d come immediately when Sam had called her, she’d walked into that room not out of obligation, it was because she loved him. He was going to cling to that until it was ripped from his cold, dead hands.

When he turned his head to look at her, to tell her that he loved her still, he found her chin tucked to her chest, passed out cold. Her head lolled side to side with the sway of the car and even to him that looked terribly uncomfortable. Gently, he guided her down by her shoulders, laying her head in his lap hoping to save her from a sore neck in a few hours. His fingers found their way into her hair, gently combing through the tangled strands and she whimpered quietly in sleepy response. Yeah, he loved her, always would. Finally now up close, he could see the damages of her time with Loki. The bruise under her eyes was darkening, there were welts on her wrists from what he assumed were his hands and the little cut on her neck was scabbed over. His own guilt washed through him as the realization that those were only there because of her association with him dawned on him. They were both disasters.

Three hours later, Dean pulled into a Gas n’ Sip, the loss of the engine’s rumble rousing Liv from her sleep. Whatever she was laying on was warm, the comforting ministrations in her hair keeping her in a relaxed state. This was nice. It smelled familiar, old leather mixed with arid… Her eyes shot open. When she realized where she was, she jolted upright, immediately running her hands over her hair smoothing it back down. Gabriel looked back at her, shocked by her sudden exit, his hand still in his lap where her head had just been,

“Sorry… must have…” she stammered, unable to get the rest of the words out.

Her feet couldn’t carry her away fast enough. She burst out of the car and beelined straight for the bathroom, her lungs going into overdrive as she gasped for air. Gabriel followed her out of the car, watching sadly as she ran to the bathroom, leaning his body back against the car.

“So, what’s going on? Everything okay?” Sam asked, pulling the gasp pump from the car.

“Peachy keen,” Gabriel responded, “how much longer ‘til we’re back?”

“Halfway there. Look,I know there’s something going on but-”

“Save it.”

Gabriel took off in the direction of the store, he knew she needed something to eat, water at a minimum. As he wandered around the store, half listening to Dean flirting with the cashier, he wondered if his life would ever go back to normal. Ever since he’d been back it had just been disaster after disaster and he was ready to call it. Maybe head back into hiding, go sit for a few hundred years and hit the reset button.

“Add these to his tab,” Gabriel instructed, throwing a water, a coke and a three musketeers bar onto the counter in front of Dean, effectively interrupting his playful banter, “We’re together.”

Gabriel smirked, wrapping his arm around Dean’s shoulders, earning him an eye roll as Dean shrugged his arm off. The bell to the door rang and Gabriel’s heart jumped as it always did when she entered a room. Her eyes fell to him at the register and again she continued with her sheepish approach. Was she afraid of him? He walked over to her, stopping just far enough way to where he thought she’d be comfortable, holding out the things he’d gotten for her.

“Did I get it right?” he asked tenderly, his confusion and sadness evident.

Nodding, she thanked him, taking the items from his outstretched hand as she wondered what was going through his mind. Did he hate her now? He should. As they walked out, a very grumpy Dean following behind them, Gabriel held the door for her, carefully keeping his arm from grazing her shoulder. He had no idea how to fix this.

The rest of the drive was in silence, Dean’s same twelve songs on repeat through the entire three hours. The pair in the back sat miles apart, both wishing for the same thing but too afraid to act. His arms seemed a perfect home as she remembered them. The way he held her as tight as he could, molding her body into all the right places of his to keep his embrace as tight as it could be. The little jokes, I love you’s and sweet nothings he would whisper to get her to laugh or smile made a little grin settle upon her face. She remembered dancing in motel room kitchens at midnight, days spent in bed watching soap reruns and eating anything her heart desired, and fingers that knew how to move against her like they were made just for her.

When they reached the bunker, she was the first inside. Castiel had already arrived home and the relief that settled in her chest when she saw the tan trench coat overcame all other emotions, even if only for a moment. She ran to him, burying herself in his chest, trying to keep the tears away at least until she was safely hidden in her room. Gabriel was next, having ran after her, he’d waited three hours in hopes of getting her alone for the conversation he knew they needed to have. The sight before him however only sent a pang of jealousy straight to his heart. There she was, already comfortable in the arms of his brother. He knew they were friends, hell he’d been thankful for it, but it was his arms he wanted her encircled with. He respected her wishes, walking off in the direction of the library as Castiel watched him with cautious eyes, no doubt afraid of his archangel brother’s anger. Gabriel wasn’t angry, however. If anything, he hoped maybe Cas would have an idea on how to help him fix it, but it didn’t stop the nostalgia of his face in her hair, smelling that coconut shampoo he loved so much as she nuzzled her nose into his neck.

“What happened?” Castiel asked as Dean and Sam entered the bunker.

“We got Gabriel, we open that rift tomorrow,” Dean recounted, “everything else is secondary.”

Gabriel could hear the conversation from his seat at the table, secondary his ass. Dean seemed to be forgetting it was his grace that was necessary for his little spell and he’d be damned if he walked over into Apocalypse land without having every detail of his relationship figured out first. Whether it was continuing or ending, it was being settled before he went and risked his life for those boys again. He’d be damn sure of it.

TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel