#supernatural sister

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: id luv if u could make one of car crash with the Impala and she gets pretty bad if she survives or nah it's up to u thanx

A/N: I hope you like this! Please comment if you like this so it helps me figure out if I should continue writing or not! Requests are still open. I have a ton of them that I’m working on and they are all such good ideas!

Sam and Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Car accident

You bounced down the halls trying to find Dean. You turned into the kitchen and saw him sitting at the table.

You grinned, “Oh Deanooooo!” You sung with a big smile on your face as you made your way over to him and sat down.

He looked at you and sighed, “what are you going to ask me for?” He asked before chuckling, already knowing you were scheming for something.

“Pretty pretty please can I take the Impala to go get ice cream?” You asked, sliding off the seat and landing on your knees into a praying position in front of him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “didn’t I just get you an entire gallon of ice cream the other day?” He asked.

“Okay yes and then you proceeded to finish the entire thing!” You whined.

“Okay yeah, I did do that didn’t I?” He asked laughing at himself before shrugging and giving an oops expression.

“Yeah you did,” you sassed, “so can I please take the Impala to get some more?” You begged still on your knees in front of him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, fine.” He said, shooing you away.

“Wooooooo!” You cheered in victory and jumped up off the floor before turning back to Dean. “Do you want something?” You asked, already knowing that he was going to.

“Hmmm can you get me a rocky road with hot fudge?” He asked. You nodded and went to walk away before you heard him shout again, “wait with m&ms too!”

“Got it!” You said.

“And whipped cream!” He exclaimed.

You chuckled and turned back around to look at him, “just text it to me Dean. See ya!” You said, grabbing the keys and walking out of the kitchen.

“Okay, okay, drive safe!” You heard him shout before running into Sammy.

“Where are you off to bug?” He asked. “And how’d you get Dean to let you drive the car?” He chuckled, seeing you holding the keys.

“I’m getting ice cream do you want anything?” You asked, turning around to face him while walking backwards towards the door.

“Nope I’m all good be careful and drive safe!” Sam shouted after you.

“Yessir!” You saluted him and continued your way out of the bunker.

You got into the car and made your way to the ice cream shop. It was around 9pm so it was dark, but the full moon lit up the sky and the backroads that you were on. You admired how beautiful the moon was and continued to drive. As soon as you drove around a bend, a car came out of no where and swerved into your lane to avoid hitting what looked like a werewolf running across the road.

“What the hell!” You shouted and immediatly jerked the impala. In an attempt to correct yourself, you overcorrected and spun out. You screamed as the car spun off the road and was making its way towards the trees. You braced for impact as you slammed into a tree. You cried out as your head hit the steering wheel. The impact of the tree flipped the car over and you felt the car rolling down the ditch until it stopped upside down. Glass was everywhere and you were aching in pain. You whimpered as your hand went to your head. It was gashed and gushing blood. Panic began to set in when you realized you were stuck hanging upside down by your seatbelt. You tried to get yourself down and maneuver your body so you could get up straight, but it was no use. The seatbelt was jammed and it was making a clicking sound that pulled you in closer. Your heart stopped when you remembered that it was a full moon and that you were almost positive there was a werewolf roaming around. You immediately reached for your phone that was in your pocket to call for help. You knew Sam would be more level headed than Dean and if you heard Dean panicking then you’d start to freak out even more. You felt extremely weak and quickly dialed his number.

“Hey, what’s up?” Sam answered.

“Sammy.” You whimpered, terrified and in pain.

“Hey hey hey what’s wrong?” He asked frantically.

“I’m scared.” You sobbed unable to keep your emotions in check any longer.

“What’s wrong?!” He asked once again in panic. You could hear Dean in the background asking what was happening and you let out another sob.

“Hey bug I need you to talk to me alright?” Sam asked calmly trying to get control of the situation.

“A ca-car swerved into my lane an- and I- I jerked the car and swerved o- off the road and c-crashed.” You cried, thinking about how badly you hurt and how the impala was totaled. You let out another sob, “Sammy the c- car is destroyed I- I’m so sorry please tell Dean I’m so sorry.” You cried.

You heard the phone rustling before you heard Dean’s voice.

“Hey kid, I don’t care about the car alright? Are you hurt?” He asked with concern in his voice.

“Everything hurts,” you cried, “And I’m stuck hanging upside down! And I think there’s a werewolf roaming around because something ran across the roads which caused the other person to swerve and I’m trapped in the car!” You panicked, completely frightened for your life. Not only were you aching in pain and trapped in the car, but there was another physical threat roaming in the woods you were stuck in. Your luck was completely terrible because this sequence of events just had to happen to you.

“Okay, okay deep breath kid everything’s going to be alright, okay? Sam just tracked your phone, we’ll be there in 7 minutes. You’re going to be alright.” Dean said calmly trying to soothe you, but you knew he was freaking the hell out.

“My head really hurts!” You whimpered, reaching up to grab your gashed head. Not only was it gashed and gushing blood, the way you were hanging upside down was making you woozy. The blood was rushing to your head and you felt yourself growing faint.

“Okay hey, I need you to keep talking to us okay kid?” You felt your world slowly fading out. “Hey, can you do that for me?” Dean asked again when he didn’t hear you respond.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Atta girl, keep talking alright? Don’t you dare stop.” Dean said. He could tell you weren’t going to be able to hang onto consciousness for much longer.

“Remember when we pranked Sammy that one time with that toy clown?” Dean asked.

“How could I forget?” You chuckled weakly.

“Yeah that was pretty funny huh? What colors were on that clown? Do you remember?” He asked, not giving a crap at all about the colors of the clown, but just trying to keep you responsive and forcing your brain to think incase you had a nasty concussion they were already expecting.

“Uhhh blue, green, red, y-yellow.” You answered.

“Yeah, yeah it was those colors, you’re right kid.”Dean responded already knowing the answer though. Shivers wracked your body and you realized how cold you were.

“De, ‘m so c- cold,” you whispered into the phone.

“Shit!” You heard Dean say before you heard the car they were in accelerate. The phone rustled and you heard Sam’s voice.

“Hey bug, you’re going to be alright okay? We’re almost there, I need you to stay with me for another minute. You’re doing so well bug, we’re almost there.” Sam said.

“Mhm.” You whimpered before hearing rustling in the woods.

“You’re here,” you sighed in relief.

“Almost bug, almost!” Sam ensured.

You sucked in a breath. Someone was out here with you and if it wasn’t your brothers then it was something.

“What! Somethings out here with me Sammy!” You cried panicking. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was now surging through your body or that you subconsciously knew that this could be your last fight for your life, but you somehow gained the energy to pick your head up and look around the woods. Your arms flailed as you tried to rip yourself from the seatbelt. You let out a strangled cry when you couldn’t get loose, yet again. You could feel your heart pounding through your body as you tried everything to see yourself free. You weren’t going to die without going down without a fight first. In your final attempt to free yourself, the driver side door was ripped open. You let out a strangled scream and frantically searched for something to defend yourself with.

“Hey! It’s Sam, it’s Sam! You’re alright, you’re safe!” You heard Sam say as he grabbed ahold of your shaky hands that were looking for a weapon.

“Sammy!” You cried, looking around for Dean.

“Hey, you’re okay! I’m going to get you down okay?“ He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” You whimpered, needing to know where he was.

“You were right, there was a werewolf. He’s taking care of it.” Sam answered.

You sucked in a breath terrified to be trapped in the car defenseless while there was a werewolf out there with your brothers. Sam noticed your panic.

“Hey, it’s okay! He already took care of it.” He corrected himself, reassuring you and just then Dean came into your view.

“Hey kid, everything’s okay. I need you to put your hands on the roof of the car so I can cut you down.” Dean said as he brought his knife to your seatbelt.

You nodded and put your hands up. You were weak though and your arms felt like jello. There was no way you’d be able to hold yourself up as you fell. As soon as Dean cut through the seatbelt, he noticed you weren’t able to hold yourself up so he quickly grabbed you to to lessen the impact.

“Alright that’s okay, I got you, I got you.” Dean whispered as he pulled you out of the car.

“Mm so tired De.” You weakly mumbled into your brothers chest.

“I need you to stay awake for me.” Dean said as he rushed you to the car. When he didn’t get a response, he gave you a little shake.

“Okay, okay.” You whimpered.

“I’m sorry kid, you can’t go to sleep.” Dean said softly as he placed you into the car. You groaned in pain at your body hitting the seat.

“I know kid, I know, I’m sorry.” Dean whispered before Sam slid in next to you and Dean hopped in the driver seat.

You felt weak so you gently slumped over and leaned against Sam.

“Hey bug, we’re going to get you cleaned up and you’ll be as good as new. Everything’s going to be alright, I just need you to keep your eyes open for me yeah?” He asked gently, seeing you struggle to stay awake.

“Mhm.” You mumbled, before everything went dark.

——

You jumped awake and panicked. Dean immediately grabbed your hand and you realized you were in the bunker.

“Hey you’re alright.” Dean reassured you and you instinctively brought your other hand up to touch the gash on your head. Before you could though, Dean grabbed it and held it down.

“You have a few stitches,” Dean sighed, “in a few different places.” He finished. You looked down and noticed two huge bandages. One was on your thigh and one was on your forearm. Just as you were about to say something, Sam walked into your room.

“Hey bug, you’re awake! How do you feel?” He asked, coming over to you and putting a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m okay.” You said as you winced in pain. Both of your brothers could see right through you.

“I’ll go grab the pain meds.” Sam said before turning and walking back out.

“How long was I out for?” You asked

“A couple days,” Dean trailed off. “You scared the hell out of me kid.” He said, rubbing his hand over his face.

“I’m sorry Dean and I’m so sorry about the car.” You said feeling terrible.

“Hey, hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for and as for the car? I don’t care, I’ll fix it. The most important thing is that you’re okay and that you’re safe kiddo.” He said softly.

You nodded and sent him a sad smile before realization hit.

“I never got our ice cream!” You said, disappointed. You looked back up at Dean and he smirked.

“I went out and got it for you because I knew that when you woke up you’d want it.” Dean said chuckling. You sent him a big smile just as Sam walked through the door with some pills and water.

“You guys are the best, thank you.” You beamed.

[winchesterdefender]

And Then There Were Three | Winchester Sister I

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

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

Warnings - very mild cursing, John Winchester

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 3,096

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

Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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

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

Dean Winchester was strong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" he asked gruffly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time John did drop his beer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Dean asked incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean Winchester was strong.

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

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

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

He's Dean Winchester.

[unknowntoyou2205]

Ain't the life for me

Info: y/n Winchester lived a life away from supernatural life, but one day turns that tale around.

Relationship: Winchester brothers x sister reader

Y/n Winchester yawned as she looked the door behind her. It was late at night and she had just finished her shift at the local diner. For the past 4 years she lived a life away from her brothers, contact was limited, bar the odd call the only way y/n communicated with her brothers was by text. They didn’t see each other but they kept tabs on her. Being the youngest of three, Dean and Sam had always been protective of their little sister.

Growing up with a father who had his vision set on catching a yellow eyes demon, y/n had been the after thought until her brothers found out about her. She was the offspring of an affair, and with her mother having no means to take care of herself, let alone a baby, y/n’s father had found the young babe being sprung into his care. He had Sprung the child onto Dean and Sam, and between the two y/n had become someone who knew she could become whatever she wanted to be. They made sure that she knew the basic self-defense skills to defend herself if needed, but they never forced her to learn how to use a gun or weapons. She told them she didn’t want to be involved in hunting, and they respected that, hiding their relief. She was their baby, and nothing could harm her with them around. Or so they thought.

With her headphones in her ears, y/n couldn’t hear the sounds around her. She kept her vision down, with her hood up to protect herself from the harsh winds that was starting to build up. It was unnaturally cold, but y/n took no notice, instead opting to pull her jacket closer to her body. She only looked up when she bumped into someone. Confusion came over her when she seen the figure of her oldest brother in front of her.

“Dean?” Y/n asked, furrowing her eyebrows gently as she took out an earbud. “Hey kid.” Dean smiled at her, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” y/n asked, not used to seeing her brother in person. “Had a case close by, decided to come see you before we left.” Sam’s voice came for behind her, and y/n turned to face her two brothers. “Okay?” Y/n spoke slowly before walking down the road again, hearing two sets of footsteps behind her. “Why don’t we drop you home. Save you walking the streets in the dark.” Dean offered, and y/n smiled slightly. “I am quite capable of walking in the dark, been doing it for years at this stage.” Y/n rolled her eyes at her brothers protectiveness. “Come on, don’t you want to spend time with your big brothers.” Dean smirked, and y/n eyed him slightly. “Okay, if you insist.” Y/n shrugged, liking the idea of some extra time with her brothers.

Dean smiled at her and linked his arm with hers, and y/n couldn’t help but look at him weirdly. He was acting out of character. Dean would never link arms with her, in fact if either of them were to make contact with her, it would be Sam. Dean was the type to kiss her head and wouldn’t make much contact with her unless she needed it. So having him this close, wasn’t something y/n was used to. But than again, maybe 4 years meant he wanted to be close to her while he could. She glanced at Sam as they came to a stop, but took a double take when she seen the car.

“That’s not baby.” Y/n spoke. “We’re not your brothers either.” ‘Sam’ spoke, and y/n gasped as she turned around. “Surprise kid.” ‘Dean’ smirked, grabbing her arms as ‘Sam’ opened the boot of the car. “No please.” Y/n begged, throwing her arms out only for ‘Dean’ to be much stronger. “Too easy.” ‘Dean’ chuckled as he forced her into the boot, ‘Sam’ slamming it before y/n had the chance to get up.

----

Dean groaned as y/n’s answer machine came through for the 6th time. He had been trying to call her for the last half hour, checking up on her to see how she was getting on. Not answering her phone wasn’t unusual, but not answering after the third time was. Y/n had a habit of answering calls eventually, and made it her mission to answer it after multiple calls. So having to attempt to get through to her 6 times, was worrying. Seeing his brothers frustration, Sam sighed.

“How many times have you tried?” Sam asked. “6. I’m worried Sammy, she never goes this long when seeing calls.”

Sam went to reply only for his phone to light up. Seeing y/n’s face pop up, he showed Dean before answering it.

“Hey y/n, you okay? Dean’s been trying to get through to you for awhile now.” Sam asked, and Dean moved closer, indicating for the phone. “Sam.” Y/n cried out, and Sam froze. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He asked, and Dean whipped his head to face him as he heard his brothers worry. “Sam, Sammy, please help me.” A mock replica voice of his was heard over the phone. “Who is this?” Sam asked, and Dean rushed over, leaning closer to hear. “Why I’m you Sam. At least to y/n I am. Good old big brother Dean is here too, ain’t ya Dean.” “Sure am.” Deans voice was heard over the phone and Dean took a deep breath as he realized. “Shape shifters.” Dean groaned, and Sam nodded in agreement. “I have to say, it was a lot easier to catch the girl than we thought. She went right along until the last minute. You know may be four years since you last seen her but good old baby ain’t hard to forget.” ‘Dean’ spoke into the phone and Dean grabbed the phone from Sam with a hard grip. “I swear to God if you harm her in any way…” “Careful Dean, you’re a long way away from getting here on time should we do anything to sweet old y/n.” ‘Dean’ Spoke back to his double before a cry was heard. “Let her go.” Dean stated harshly, his hand going white around the phone he held tightly. “I don’t think so, I think we’ll play with her for a bit. What you think Sammy.” “Great idea.” ‘Sam’ agreed with his ‘brother’, throwing a smirk at y/n who squirmed under his vision. “I swear to God.” Dean spoke through gritted teeth. “Say hello y/n, it may be the last chance to talk to them.” “Dean, Sam, please, don’t let them hurt me, please.” Y/n cried as ‘Sam’ grabbed her arm tightly while ‘Dean held the phone to her. “Y/n kid just hold on.” Dean stated, looking at Sam as his brother closed his eyes. “Sorry, signal cutting off. Gotta go.” ‘Dean’ replied into the phone before a scream was heard as the phone cut dead.

“Shit.” Dean cursed, throwing a hand through his hair. “We gotta go.” Sam stated, moving to grab baby’s keys.

----

Y/n’s eyes struggled to stay open while she sat in an old wooden chair that felt like it would break at any moment. The shapeshifters of her brothers had long since gone, having gave her a few bruises before leaving her alone. Movement could be heard outside the door every now and then, so y/n knew they weren’t gone far. She was tired and hungry, with her mouth gone dry long ago from lack of water. The taste of blood was evident, and she could feel pain in her shoulders from taking the strain of her tied arms behind her back. She longed for her actual brothers, but she had no idea if she would see them, or their real selves.

Her vision clouded slightly as she fought tiredness, before jumping when the door opened with a bang against the door. Two figures came into view, and y/n could see the Winchester brothers walking in. Noticing the change of clothes, her heart beat increased at the thought of possibly being saved. ‘Dean’ walked over to her and crouched down in front of her.

“Dean?” She asked, hope evident in her voice. “Hey kid.” ‘Dean’ spoke, placing a hand on her cheek before laughing when she leaned into his touch. “Too easy.” He laughed at her as he pushed her face to the side as he got back up, ‘Sam’ smirking as he walked over to them. “poor y/n, can’t tell if her brothers are here or not.” ‘Sam mocked her, and y/n couldn’t help the tear that fell down her cheek as she looked down. “I mean technically they are.” ‘Dean explained, throwing an arm out in her direction. “Just not the nice ones.” He winked at y/n, and y/n grimaced slightly.

The boys heads turned away from her as the sound of footsteps were heard. Y/n looked at the door with hope as a shine of light was seen coming closer to where the trio were. Her breath caught in her throat as she heard the sound of Sam and Dean muttering to themselves, and she let out a shout to gain their attention. Seeing what she was doing ‘Sam’ stalked towards her and grabbed her neck, taking a knife out from his pocket. She could only watch as two figured came in the door, and she smiled slightly as she seen the two faces that appeared.

“Well, look who it is.” ‘Dean’ spoke out, sharing a smirk with the ‘Sam’ over his shoulder before walking towards the two brothers. “Glad you could make it.” “Y/n, you ok?” Sam called out to her, and y/n winched as the hand on her neck tightened slightly. “Oh she’s fine, a little beat up but that does no one any harm.” ‘Sam’ replied to his doubleganger before raising the knife into everyone’s vision. “No.” Dean called out as the knife was brought down, but nothing was felt on y/n’s end. “No, please don’t hurt her, no.” ‘Dean’ mocked the brothers as he turned to face y/n as she was pulled off the chair by ‘Sam’. “Let’s play a game. Hide and Seek. We seek, y/n here hides.” ‘Sam’ smirked, pulling y/n close to him in a side hug. “Winner get’s y/n.” ‘Dean’ winked at her, and y/n squirmed slightly. “To hell with that.” Dean’s gruff voice shouted out, and y/n looked at him. “I just wanna go home.” y/n pleaded, shaking her head as tears welled in her eyes, eyes boring into her oldest brothers. "I just wanna go home." 'Sam' mocked her, pulling her head back.

Dean kept his eyes on y/n’s, his heart clenching to see his little sister so scared. They kept their distance to protect her, but all it did was lead danger to her. The Winchesters had their enemies, he should of known they’d of found their way to their sister somehow. He took a breath in as he nodded at her gently, before moving his gun up and shooting it. Y/n gasped at the loud bang, and felt herself being thrown to the ground suddenly.

“Y/n, move out of the way.” Dean shouted at her, and y/n didn’t need to be told twice.

She made a run out of the room, not turning back as she heard a fight start. Loud breathing was heard repeatedly as bodies were heard colliding. Leaning against the wall, y/n put her hands over her head to cover herself, trying to ignore the loud sounds. When it grew quiet she slowly began to look up, and she gasped as she seen what looked like Sam appear in front of her.

“Y/n.” Sam breathed, moving towards her. “No.” Y/n shouted, not trusting what was real or not. “Hey, hey kid, it’s us. It’s us bunny.” Deans voice was heard as he crouched in front of her, and y/n looked up. “Only one person calls me that name.” Y/n mumbled, recalling her childhood name. “Yeah, only one person would know that.” Dean chuckled lightly, remembering how she got that name. “Oh my God. You’re here, your really here.” Y/n cried, going to reach for Dean, but hesitating slightly. “Didn’t think we’d let them have you did you.” Dean asked, “I mean sure they look like us but are they really as good as the real deal.” Dean joked, causing y/n to chuckle lightly. “Thank you.” Y/n smiled, looking Dean in the eyes. “Hey come here, your old brother needs a hug after four years of purely texts.” Dean smiled, indicating for y/n to come give him a hug.

Y/n giggled lightly before moving to pull Dean into a hug. Dean brought his hand up to cup the back of y/n’s head, kissing her head as she snuggled into his chest. She hadn’t long pulled away from him when Sam moved to pull her to him. Y/n sighed in content, loving being in the arms she used to lay in as a little girl when she couldn’t sleep and needed comfort. The boys laughed happily as y/n moved back to look between the two of them.

“Why don’t we get you home.” Sam stated, cupping y/n’s cheek slightly. “Baby?” Y/n asked, looking at Dean. “Baby’s a keeper y/n, you know that.” Dean told her, and y/n smiled happily.

---

The ride home was quiet, the two boys relieved to have their sister safe, and y/n happy to be in the company of her brothers. No one spoke, but they didn’t need to, their company allowed them to know that each of them were safe. Which is why no one moved when Dean pulled up to y/n’s apartment building.

“Want to stay at mine tonight? I have an extra room and a camp bed I can make up.” Y/n offered, hoping her brothers would say yes. “Sure beats a motel.” Sam looked at Dean after a moment considering. “I get the bed.” Dean hit Sam’s chest before getting out of the car, opening the back door for y/n.

Y/n laughed at the brothers antics as they wrestled to the front door. There live might not be for her, but having her brothers with her was the life she wanted, both real and fake.

[winniewritesstories]

And Then There Were Three | Meg Winchester #1

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

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

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

Warnings - Mild cursing, John Winchester

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 3096

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

Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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

Dean Winchester was strong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" he asked gruffly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time John did drop his beer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Dean asked incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean Winchester was strong.

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

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

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

He's Dean Winchester.

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

[hahahahahangst]

The Cake

Tags (as per my masterlist): ❓👨🏻‍👨🏻‍👧🏻💖

Requested by: @themerakisstuff (happy birthday!!!!💕💖 )

Summary: it's your birthday! Sam and Dean seem to have forgot about it... but have they really?

AN: omg my first request AND my first reader insert ❗❗ i am beyond excited!

Sam and Dean have been gone the entire day. They left you in a random motel room. On your fucking birthday. Those two are un-fucking-believable. 

Leaving you alone on your birthday has to be one of the worst things they have done recently. 

You cross your legs on your bed and turn on the TV. Surely, there must be something to watch, right? 

The light of the television lights up your skin in the dark as the sound of the telenovela makes you roll your eyes - you never understood how Dean can enjoy this shit.

You change the channel. Doctor Sexy. Really? Another one of Dean’s favorites. 

Just when he has forgotten about your birthday. The universe really is trying to mess with you. You change the channel once more to land on a documentary. 

Know what? It’s good enough. Documentary on bees? On your birthday? Why would it be the pinnacle of sadness? Speaking about bees… Maybe Cas is available to spend some time together. 

Maybe, since it’s your birthday, you can try and convince him to bring you some cake from that bakery in Fort Wayne. You close your eyes and think of the cake fondly, your stomach growling. 

God, you are hungry. You haven’t eaten anything, thinking Sam and Dean were going to be back before evening, that they were just late, that they didn’t forget your birthday. 

Stupid of you to think that. 

You check the time on your phone. 3 AM. 

“Cas?” You say, closing your eyes and feeling kind of stupid for talking to yourself like that. “Are you free? It’s kind of my birthday, and nobody is around.” You open one eye, expecting to hear Cas’ wings flutter any moment. But you don’t. The bee documentary keeps going in the background.

So, just to recap: your brothers seem to have forgotten about you, Cas isn’t answering your prayers and the most compelling thing on TV is a documentary on bees.

That’s the premise for a very trashy, filled-with-drama teenage movie. 

You lean against the headboard of the motel bed and close your eyes. At this point, you might as well sleep.

“I told you we would never be back here in time!” Sam’s voice woke you up. “Fort Wayne isn’t exactly a short way from here.” You remain in bed, refusing to move. You don’t feel at all rested, just a slight pain in your neck from sleeping against the headboard. “You know how y/n is about her birthday!” Whispers Sam. “She surely thinks we’ve forgotten.”

You hear the sound of the door closing lightly and plastic bags being placed on the table. “We haven’t!” Complains Dean. “It was just… an organizational delay.” 

Sam sighs. “I’m not saying it wasn’t worth it, just… maybe next year we can take a case closer to Fort Wayne if you really want to go get that cake for her birthday.” 

You open one eye. “Can you guys shut the fuck up?” You mutter, mouth still dry and brain still clouded by sleep. You’re hearing their words, but you’re not really registering anything they're saying. “I’m trying to sleep.” You feel a hand on your shoulder and open both your eyes. 

“Happy birthday y/n!” Sam smiles widely. All of a sudden, you feel awake. You drag your hand over your eyes, surprised. “We brought you something.” That’s when you finally see the cake. It’s that cake. The cake from Fort Wayne you love so much. You snap into a sitting position Dean grins. 

“Always that look of surprise.” He says. “What? You thought we forgot about your birthday?”

You feel your cheeks fill with embarrassment. “Kind of.” You whisper. “You were gone all day.” 

“We took the day off to get you your favorite cake.” Dean smiles, satisfied. “I can’t believe you thought we forgot about your birthday!” He repeated. You smile so hard you almost hurt yourself and stand up from the bed. “Sam also brought you something.” 

You turn towards Sam, excited. He hands you a box a little bigger than your hand, wrapped in christmas-themes wrapping paper. “Sorry about the wrapping.” Says Sam, embarrassed. “They- they were out of birthday wrap and I had to improvise.” You smile at him and gently open the gift. You quickly realize it’s several DVDs of your favorite tv show. You force yourself not to start jumping in excitement. “Sam, this… this is amazing!” You look up at your brother and hug him. “Thanks.” You feel Sam’s arms around you as the comfort and familiarity of being close to your brother goes through you, flushing all anxieties and worries out of you. 

“Of course, kid. Anything.” Says Sam. How could you ever think they had forgotten about your birthday?!

“Alright, my turn now.” Says Dean, opening his bag. “I got two things for you.” He announces. You let go of Sam to turn towards him. “First of all, I made you your own copy of Baby’s keys.” He throws a keychain at you. You stare at it, completely overwhelmed by the fact Dean is giving you free access to his precious car. “And then, since you’re now technically an adult, I purchased this for you.” He hands you a small envelope. You open it and almost choke. 

Gift card valid for the purchase of 1 (one) DVD in our adult section

“I didn’t know what you liked, so…” Dean trails off. You look at the three objects you have in your hands and smile. A stack of DVDs, the keys to your brother’s car and a porn gift card. 

Well, maybe the gift card isn’t as emotionally valuable as the other two things, but it’s still… a gift? A well thought one for that matter. It’s not like he gave you his used magazines. You also hug Dean, who seems not to be expecting it, taking a couple steps back. “Thanks.” 

“Kid, I will never forget your birthday.” He says before kissing your hair. “Happy birthday, y/n.”

A/N: If you enjoy this or any sisfic content, I am writing a looong sisfic! :D Feel free to check it out here

[sciencewithottsnpotts]

The Family Business

Criminal Minds x Winchester!Sister

BAU Team x Supernatural Reader

Saving People Part Three and Final Ending to the Saving People Trilogy :)

———————

What an accomplishment it was, to be 19 and living a good life. You were interning at a law firm when your Boss got called in on a priority case, and you were the lucky duck who got to go with him to carry around all his paperwork. But you didn't mind- cause you knew pencil pushing would eventually lead to taking leads on cases. Normally, your Boss worked on the side of the DA's office, prosecuting criminals to the full extent of the law. But this case was an exception. Y'all had been hired to be counsel to a suspect in a major murder investigation. And low and behold, the group of individuals running the case just so happened to be the FBI's BAU.

You watched Hotch's reaction as your Boss pushed past him into the interrogation room to interrupt Derek Morgan in his stare down with your new client. All of the agents that currently occupied the room looked affronted but unsurprised at your Boss's appearance. Though none noticed you standing in the doorway until a certain computer tech had to get into the room.

"Excuse me. So sorry," she sang as she glided into the room. It was then that a certain individual with eidetic memory turned around and saw your face.

"Y/n Winchester?"

That name had everyone whipping around. Your smile was genuine as you gazed back on them.

"Hello guys. Long time no see."

"Winchester? Why does that sound so familiar?" Came Garcia's cheery voice.

"Because we got to work together 4 years ago. On what the news dubbed the "Sacrificial Spree Murders" that consumed upwards of 80 deaths once you got those perpetrators to confess."

"Holy shit. That's right!" Emily Prentiss's face was kind even in its shock. Though everyone's perceptions changed when Hotch spoke.

"I also recall you conveniently disappearing when said confessions happened before you went MIA for 6 months."

You couldn't help but blush at that. "Heh- yeah. Fight or flight- ya know? You no longer needed me with those confessions, and I was getting antsy from having been in the same place for too long. So- I bolted. Besides. I didn't need you guys tracking me to figure out where I parked my car or putting a gps device in the wheel well. I know you're with the government- and that's exactly why I didn't trust you."

"Fair enough I guess," commented JJ. "Especially since those guys got effectively sentenced without your testimony. My question would be- why are you here now?"

All attention was on Jennifer Jareu as she asked that question. But before you could answer, distinct yelling came from the interrogation room where your Boss was making his way to the door with your new client.

"Interrogating my client without offer to counsel is against this man's given rights. It is because of this we will be taking our leave unless you can provide a valid warrant for his arrest?"

Before Hotch could get a word in edge-wise your Boss paced forward.

"Exactly what I thought. Here is my card," with a snap of his fingers you had handed him a business card to give to Hotch, "And you can contact me or my intern with any future desires to reach out to my client. Good day, Agent Hotchner." And just like that he was marching out with the potential Unsub in tow.

"Aaaaaaaand that's my cue. Gotta follow the boss cause I have the keys to the Mercedes. It was nice seeing you guys- though I don't know if I'd call this "better circumstances". I guess I'll be seeing you around. Bye!"

And just as suddenly as you'd appeared to them, you were gone.

"Who the hell was that?" Came Morgan's voice as he stared around at his team as they watched the practical (familiar) teenager leave the room.

"That," explained Rossi, "Was one Ms. Y/N Winchester."

"Wait- Winchester as in that psycho-genius from that Sacrificial Murder Spree?"

"The very one- so it would seem." Prentiss said, a quizzical look on her face.

"What the hell is she doing working in a law firm? More importantly how? She's like 18!"

"If memory serves she would actually be 19 going on 20 as she had turned 16 by the time the case was wrapping up." Spencer buttoned his suit jacket, as he collected his bag and made his way from the observation room, now made obsolete with no one to observe.

The rest of the team merely looked at each other, before following him out to re-strategize in the conference room.

—————————

"Winchester," you're boss said, as you drove him and your client to the hotel. You looked up into the rear view, as he was sat in the back conspiring with the potential Unsub.

"Yes, sir," you acknowledged.

"Do me a favor when we get back to the hotel and call up your brother. We're going to need all the assistance we can on this one, if we're going against the FBI instead of working with them."

A trickling sense of unease slithered down your spine and coiled in your stomach. Call my brother?

"My – uh – brother sir?"

"Yes, Samuel."

Sammy, you want to say. "And why would we need him, sir?"

The look on your boss's face is incredulous. "Why would- you think you got hired because of your grades kid? Shit no, this industry is all about connections. Winchester is a powerful name in these courts. You're here so I have a solid line directly to the big man. So call him. We'll need all the wisdom we can get."

"Yes, sir. Will do." Is all you can say. Samuel Winchester the Lawyer? What kind of weird alternate reality was this? Did you fuck with the wrong dragon that stole a magical charm and get thrust into another world that mimics this one?

No, you think, you remember too much, and far too little at the same time. Because that's the truth. You remember your mother and her funeral. Your father and your brothers. Dean's mother hen attitude, Sam's healthy fitness lifestyle. Hunting. You remember all of it. You even remember Dean taking the Mark. The demon possessing him. Hell- literally. You even remember the case with the BAU. Every last detail of it. Getting captured, getting the girls out, going to the police, and...

You don't remember actually catching the bad guys.

But the BAU did! They said you bolted. And that sounds like something you'd do, but you can't actually remember it.

Why can't you remember it?!

"Winchester- watch out!"

"What?"

The sound of a truck horn has you zoning back in, though too late. You swerve, in an attempt to avoid the head on collision, and instead loose control of the vehicle, speeding uncontrollably off the edge into a deep forested drop below. There's screaming, and yelling, and a whole lot of fear.

This is not how I thought I'd go out! You think, closing your eyes and bracing for impact.

You feel yourself fall, and hit the ground. But it's far more mild than you expected. There's no screaming any more, no smoke. In fact, you're lying on linoleum tiles.

"Oh gosh, I am so sorry, are you ok miss?" You know that voice.

You pick your head and yourself from the ground, to see Spencer Reid of the BAU, reaching around a door, shock and remorse clear in his eyes.

"Uh, yeah. I'm ok, I think."

There it was again, the coiling unease, it was growing.

"Ah, Ms. Winchester, what brings you back to the precinct?"

You look around, surprised to see that, yes, you are back in the precinct. The one you had just left yesterday. When you got in a car crash.... Only you didn't.

Why were you back?

"We've brought back our client," your boss says behind you, exasperated.

Suspicion crosses Spencer's features, "Pray tell, for what reason. For you both left quite confident and angered yesterday."

"He wishes to make a deal." came another voice further down the hall your boss was standing in.

Your blood runs cold. You know that voice. Leaning around your boss, you see, of all people, Sam Winchester. And he's in a suit. And his hair- oh Chuck his hair!! It's cut short, and slicked back. He- he- he looks- jeez, he looks like a prick.

It doesn't take long for everyone to gather in the conference room, a camera set up in the corner, to record the whole room and this odd interaction. You sat against the same wall the cameras on, claiming to stay in the back ground to observe. Which, technically isn't wrong.

You were mostly trying to figure out, what in all of HELLS HALF ACRE WAS GOING ON!!

You were silently freaking out, and don't know how you managed to keep your face so neutral. Cause there was Sammy. Your brother Sam, dressed up in an expensive pin-stripe suit, hair all wrong, face too cold, working with your boss and client (do you even know their names?? Who are these people?) sitting across from the FB-fucking-I!

How do you not remember anything before this. Why don't you remember the arrests from the Murder Spree case like the team does?? Why didn't you die last night when the car went off the highway? Was that even last night?

For the love of all that is holy- what the HELL WAS GOING ON!

Your distress must have been obvious to everyone in the room, for it was Agent Prentiss who addressed you. "Are you alright Y/N?"

You look up in shock, ripped from your internal break down, and realize that everyone in the room is looking at you. You had to get out of there.

"Um, actually... no, I'm not." Your hand comes up to your head, pushing on one of your temples, while the other lays against the wall for balance. "I have a killer head ache that came out of nowhere. I think I may have a concussion from my collision in the hallway." You wince, hoping the lie is believable.

"What collision?" Asked Hotchner.

"That would be my fault," came Reid, "I opened the bathroom door to quickly, and preceded to hit Ms. Winchester with it." Remorse was evident in his voice. But you didn't care. This was all wrong.

You wanted to leave. You needed to leave.

Your panic must've shown through some, for it's your brother who speaks next. "Why don't you go to the break room and get some water, then find an observation room to lie down in the dark. We'll come get you when we're done here."

"That sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Sammy."

You don't see the confusion that crosses your brothers face at the nickname. He was Samuel to most, Sam to few and well, hadn't been Sammy since you were 12. At least here.

But you didn't know that. And you didn't care to. You speed walk to the break room, lowering your hand from your head, only when your in the seclusion of the room. The windows in the room are fortunately covered by their blinds for now. You grab a drink of water as you were told. But your growing panic doesn't let you sit.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. 

Run. 

Wrong. 

Run. 

Wrong. 

Run. Run. Run. Run. 

WRONG!

Over and over it screams in your head. You begin pacing the floor. Mug squeezed so tightly in your hands, your knuckles are white and your fingers are red.

This is wrong! You slam your mug and hands onto the counter, frustrated. The surface clinks underneath the impact. And that's when you see the drawer in the cabinetry.

You rip it open with a bang! At first glance it's all tongs and serving spoons. But buried under the layers of grimy and unorganized plastic wear you see it- a knife.

The tarnished reflection it shows in the horrid florescent lighting tells you the only truth you need- it's silver.

You hop to the fridge next, squished between the counter and the sink you had drank from earlier. The chances were low.

But there, inside that fridge was a fuck ton of brown butcher-paper-wrapped slabs of meat that said "Loui's Lambs. Best Chops in the State!" As well as a sticky note saying thank you to the cops or some shit for a stupid fundraiser.

You skip that useless information and instead look for the messiest wrapping on all the products. The one that was the juiciest, leaking the most, promising to be the bloodiest. Instead, you found a plastic Tupperware container, like the one you get potato salad in at the deli, full of "spare bits". Hey- don't hate- that's what it was labeled as, that was not your doing.

But it was full, and it was bloody. And it was as you starred at the two contents filling either hand, knife and bits, you realize why this doesn't feel right.

Your vision flashes. Dark warehouse halls, the dripping echo of an old abandoned and leaking building. Two men, one with dark and one with light hair. Tattoos, hidden under layers of grimy clothes. Glowing eyes.

"Djinn."

You whisper it, but the sinking in your stomach makes it feel like your yelled it. Djinn. It explained everything. Sam, the lack of memories, the glitch when the car almost crashed. The migraine! You were losing blood. You were loosing it fast. Cause these men didn't take long to act. You remember. Leaving the precinct, the day you brought back the girls, sneaking off to your car and searching out the two men.

Only back then you hadn't known about ask the tattoos that lingered beneath the dirty sleeves of your captors. You thought they were just human psychos. You remember it now. You remember it all. You also remember the only way to escape this dream world.

Your death.

You glance at the knife again. Putting the blood back into the fridge. You wouldn't need it. Because there was no djinn here. Not in this world. No, this world was controlled by djinn.

You slip the knife very carefully up your blouse sleeve and make your way from the break room to the bathroom. You double the act of the headache. One hand gripping your forehead, the other pressed against your stomach to keep the knife hidden in your blazer.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, headache and nausea becoming quite real as you physically lost more blood to the djinn. 

Chuck you hoped this worked. You were a Winchester for fuck's sake. Dying at the hands of a djinn, was not in your "Top 10 Ways to Die as a Winchester" list. 

You rushed into the bathroom and then the biggest stall, falling down as a harsh pang shot across your head. 

Why did your mouth feel so dry suddenly?

You pulled the knife out from your sleeve with shaking hands. Carefully, you lined the blade up with your heart. Just as you were ready to act, the creaking of the door broke through your pounding head.

"Y/N? Are you in here? Are you alright?" called out one Emily Prentiss. A vision of her flashes before you at the sound of her voice. Of FBI Agents swarming an abandoned warehouse. Flashlights swinging across the darkness. Voices calling "CLEAR" as they pass through rooms. An echo of Emily's voice as she lifts your head, the rest of the team following behind her. And a shadow and a flash of blue.

"No!" you shout, bringing the blade down, stabbing yourself in this dream world. 

"Y/N!" Emily's voice is urgent now. You blearily look down and see blood quickly pooling on the floor, hands going numb. The door bursts open, Emily standing above you with horror on her face. A shadow forms behind her, magic blue eyes and arms of tattoos visible in your fading vision. 

The last thing you can process in this false world is the word "duck" before the world goes white.

—————————

The beeping of the heart monitor is almost lulling to the team as they sit in your hospital room. All six of them crammed into the small emergency room, waiting for you to wake up. If Strauss or anyone higher up were to ask why all of them were waiting there, Hotch was prepared with the "protocol" argument. They needed to interview you, be assured of your safety, be prepared to get CPS involved if needed, and all that other red-tape type shit.

The real reason, though, was you had saved them. Barely conscious from the head trauma visible on your forehead you had stabbed the unsub, while laying in Prentiss's arms, as he attempted to kill her himself. Then you somehow managed to pull yourself up, half alive and still bleeding to death, to follow the sounds of gun shots and end the life of the other Unsub who wasn't falling, despite having over five bullets in his chest. They don’t even know where you got the knife from.

The team had been in shock as they watched their respective suspects die. Blue flashing from their eyes, the light of their tattoos dying with them as they collapsed to the ground. Morgan and JJ, both of whom had fallen victim to the magic of the djinn, awoke with a gasp as the last one fell. You falling alongside the second one had the team acting fast. Ambulance already on standby they got you rushed to the hospital. You had to have three blood transfusions. One in the ambulance on the way, and two more once you got to the hospital and your neck wound was stitched up. Doctors state you had lost about 30% of your blood before you had finally passed out. It was that fact that left the team truly speechless. By all rights you should have been unconscious and on the brink of death by the time the found you. 

And yet, in their attempt to save you from the unsubs, you saved them. They had all seen the man with blue eyes and blue tattoos survive the gun shots, as he got his hands on their team mates, knocking them unconscious with a glowing hand. It was impossible, what they saw. Morgan refused to speak about what he dreamed about for the short period of time he was under. JJ looked haunted, but was writing it all down in the notepad she had found in the back of the SUV. Prentiss had tossed her jacket to the side, as it was covered in the blood from the first unsub, who had almost succeeded in doing the same to her, or worse. Reid sat in the corner, replaying the days events in his mind on a loop, trying to justify things and fill them in with fact when there was mostly only the impossible. Hotch and Rossi stood in the corners, worrying over their team and their wellbeing, processing everything as well. 

This job had become more of a headache than it was probably worth, and was going to be a boat-load of paperwork. But one thing they could focus on were simple facts and truth.

The unsubs were no longer a worry, but other impossible worries lingered in everyone's minds.  

Yet, as sherlock once said, "When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." And so the truth stood. The unsubs who had died were no ordinary men. They weren't natural. Nor was it some kind of extreme technology that allowed them to be what they were. No matter how much Reid and the team didn't want to accept it there was only one option that truly remained. The supernatural just might be real. 

And you had a lot of questions to answer when you finally woke back up. 

__________________

You hated hospitals. You hated cops (Jody Mills and Donna Hanscum excluded). You hated people who refused to understand your world. You hated monsters, specifically the ones who enjoyed hurting people. You hated your dad for bringing your family into this world. You had a lot of unresolved anger and trauma to work through. Not to mention the echo of your djinn induced dream haunting your sleepless nights.

But you were grateful to now have the BAU partially on your side. You didn't have to worry so much about having them tracking you. And while they weren't quite ready to absolve your brothers of their "Most Wanted" status, most of them did not see you as a potential threat. Instead you had made a deal. You'd keep a reliable form of contact with them, and they'd be sure to reach out for a consultation should a case start looking a little... unnatural. 

And as you drove away in one of the bunker's many vintage cars you had stowed away outside of town, you couldn't help but smile at how things had somehow, for once in your short Winchester life, ended relatively well.

Your peace of mind is interrupted by a chirp on one of your many cellular devices. A note from Sam.

Black eyes have been turned back to green. Next task: find a solid stain remover for this Mark. You able to come home to lend a hand with the laundry and pest control? 

The relief that flooded through you at knowing Dean was finally demon-less was strong. Foot pushing heavy on the pedal you blast some music, and text back a simple response.

Wayward's coming home. Tell mother hen I say "Hey". See y'all soon.

Being a Winchester wasn't easy and it was never boring. But hey, you know how it goes.

Saving People. Hunting Things.

The Family Business. 

_________________________________________________

Aaaaaaaaand we're finally done!!! Ah that's crazy! This has taken so long (literally over a year I am soooooo sorry) and has been through so many rewrites. But I'm so happy to have finally created an ending I'm happy with, and I hope you are too. Do timelines match up between the two shows? absolutely not, but that's not important lol.  Thank you all who have followed along on this little trilogy! You're engagement is so encouraging, and your patience is appreciated. 

One note I would like to add:  Suicide is no joke, and is never an ACTUAL answer to our problems and struggles. I plead to everyone here, that if you are having thoughts of self-harm or suicide, depressions, or even possible hallucinations to please seek help and treatment. There is nothing wrong with you, and you're allowed to ask for help. Remember, someone does actually care, even if you feel alone, and there is always a future, even if it seems bleak now. 

Thank you all again!

Tags: (I hope I did this right)

@sylum @ampal98 @singhfae @supernerdycookietrashblr

@super-sexy-agent-hotchner (I don’t think this one works)

[thewnchstrs]

The Letter

Pairing: Winchester!Sister(OC Ellie)

Disclaimers: n/a

Word Count: 754

A/N: sorry this one is so short omfg. also, this would take place at the beginning of season 3 :)

M A S T E R L I S T

REWRITE MASTERLIST

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

“Are you sure it’s in here?” Sam said, rummaging through the glove box of the Impala, running a finger through the neck of his shirt that clung to his back. 

Dean grumbled, sifting through the visor above the driver’s seat in search of the same damn insurance card that seemed to go missing every year. “Check the visor.”

Sam pulled down the visor, two white pieces of paper flittering into his lap. Sam picked one of them up, showing the insurance card to Dean who snatched it from his hands. Sam chuckled, shaking his head as he grabbed the small white envelope, going to put it back in its place when he noticed the large, looping handwriting across the front. Handwriting he immediately recognized as Ellie’s.

“What’s this?” Sam asked, holding it up.

Dean narrowed his eyes, reading his and Sam’s names across the front. He shrugged, taking it from him and ripping it open. He unfolded the thin notebook paper, glancing to Sam in confusion before looking back down at it again.

Sammy + Dean,

Fuck. I guess I’m dead. I mean…if you’re reading this, then I probably am. Or maybe Dean went looking for that insurance card he loses every year. Sorry for dying, by the way. That really sucks and it was kind of shitty of me, leaving you two alone. I’m sure you’ll manage.

Sam and Dean glanced up at each other from the note and up to the motel room where they could see Ellie through the window, packing her clothes into her duffel bag. They both looked back down at the letter.

At the time that I’m writing this, I only have about six months left. It’s strange, knowing that every day that passes on the calendar I’ll never see again. I’ll never see the fireworks on the 4th of July, or the leaves changing in the fall. I’m just trying to soak it all up while I can. My birthday’s coming up. And to be honest, I never thought I’d see 22 years of my life. I’ve lived much longer than I ever expected to.

I’d never say to your faces, but thank you for all you’ve done for me. No matter what happened or where in the world we were, I always knew you guys would be right behind me, every step of the way. We never had any stability growing up. No home, no school, no friends. But in the end, none of that really mattered, because I had you. And that was more than enough.

So, please, for the love of god, don’t sit around moping. I mean…maybe a few days is okay just for you guys to remember how fucking cool I was and all that…but then, you need to move on. Hunters die every day, but that doesn’t mean the job does. I lived a good life, despite it all. I’ll be okay. And maybe one day we’ll see each other again.

Kick some ass for me.

Love,

El

Dean let the paper fall in his lap as they reached the bottom, sitting silently back in their seats. They watched her move across the motel room, unaware of what they’d found, something she’d intended for them not to find until she was long gone.

“We can’t let her go,” Sam whispered, looking over to Dean. “We can’t let her go to Hell.”

Dean had been telling himself this ever since he found out about Ellie’s deal. That he couldn’t let his sister be dragged to the worse place he could imagine, but nothing he tried was working. Either Ellie died and went to Hell and Sam lived, or vice versa. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself either way.

He glanced over at his brother, nodding. “We’ll figure something out.”

“You have to promise me, though, Dean,” Sam said in a serious tone. “You need to promise me that whatever we do, we do it knowing for sure that we all live. No more deals, okay?”

Dean wished he could keep the promise, but he knew better. He’d already been down every avenue, looked under every rock to figure out a way to get Ellie out of her deal, but nothing was working. He knew that if it came down to it, he would sell his soul for Ellie’s in a heartbeat. 

“Okay,” Dean agreed guiltily. Sam continued to watch him, like he didn’t believe him. Dean nodded, folding the paper again and sliding it back into the envelope. “No deals.”

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67​​​ | @luciferslucille​​ | @anti-social-club​​ | @search-bar​​ | @mellorine-paprika​​ | @thepocketshoelace​​ | @jaremish​​ | @the-salty-asian​​​ | @robynannemackenzie-blog​​ | @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​​​​ | @damnedimpala​​ | @lauren-novak​​ | @adeanmon​​ | @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​ | @defenderrosetyler​​ | @resanoona​​​​ / @nyotamalfoy​ / @ykta-m​

WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST

@resanoona​​​​​​​ | @bunnyandy12​​ | @breereadsthings​​ | @slytherinrising​​ | @stressedoutkitten​​​ / @dragon-master-kai​ 

[davilishuuu]

When your brother finally kisses his angel and you have to deal with them doing it all the f time

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: Dating Dean Winchester....

[lady-bizarre]

DUDE

[book-place-incorrect-quotes]

Y/N: Can I have more some candy, De?

Dean: What did Sam say?

Y/N: He said no

Dean: Then why would I say yes?

Y/N: Cause he’s not the boss of you

Dean: *internally* It’s a trap, it’s a trap, it’s a-

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

I have a request: Can you do a story where the reader, along with Sam and Dean, are captured by demons and sexually assaulted in front of her brothers?

Warnings: SEXUAL ASSAULT !!!!!!!

A/N: I get a lot of requests like these because many of you say they are from personal experience with SA. I hope I can continue to write these and help you all cope with your situations. If anyone ever needs to talk, you can always message me. Requests are open.

You woke up to your head pounding. You groaned and went to grab it in pain when you realized your hands were stuck in place. You snapped your eyes open in panic and realized you were strapped down to a table. Your legs and hands were tied down and there was a strap covering your lower waist and chest. You were naked and those straps were providing you the only amount of privacy you had. In the midst of your panic you didn’t notice your brothers restrained in chairs beside you and you didn’t hear Sam trying to calm you down.

“Hey, hey, hey, Y/N/N, it’s okay, it’s okay, you’re going to be be okay.” You heard Sam’s voice reassure you. You looked at him completely terrified.

“Wha-“ You stuttered, panicking even more and frantically yanking your limbs hoping to free yourself somehow.

“You’re going to be okay, you’re going to be fine, okay?” Sam tried reassuring you again, but he looked sick to his stomach. You let out a sob.

“Sammy.” You whimpered, realization hitting you.

“Nothing is going to happen to you, you’re going to be okay, alright? Yeah? You’re going to be just fine.” He said trying to calm you down, but you knew. You knew what was about to happen to you. Dean wasn’t even looking at you. He had his jaw clenched with his eyes squeezed shut and had his head turned away from you. You let out another sob.

“De?” You cried, looking at him. He immediately collected himself and snapped his attention to you, hearing you cry his name.

“Hey kid, I’m not letting anything happen to you alright? You’re going to be just fine, okay?” He said strongly. He bit back bile and in another fit of rage he tried breaking free of his restraints, but again had no luck.

“Son of a bitch!” He seethed in anger and you slammed your head back down on the table. You were staring at the ceiling trying to prepare yourself for what was about to come when the door to the room creaked open. A man walked in with a sickly smile.

“If you touch a hair on her fucking head you’ll be so damn sorry, I swear to God!” Dean shouted, struggling against his restraints. With every step the man took towards you, your body trembled even more.

“You see Dean, Alastair taught you how to torture someone and I can’t torture you if you already know all of our tricks! But…” He trailed off, “luckily for me, you don’t! He didn’t even get to the best parts. So now this is how I’m going to torture you.” He smirked, flashing his black eyes and trailing a finger down your body.

Your breath hitched, “please no, don’t!” You cried, begging him not to.

“I’m going to rip you to fucking shreds!” Dean screamed.

“That’s fine! You can rip me to shreds after I rip her to shreds first!” He said, pointing to you. You let out another sob and he turned his attention fully to you.

“Oh baby, don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good!” He said, before putting his hand on your upper thigh. You heard your brothers yelling and struggling to escape their restraints. You thrashed and thrashed, trying to get his hands off of you but he gripped you tight. You felt hopeless. This was it. As he got on top of you and started kissing your neck, you looked towards your brothers with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Please don’t watch,” you whimpered.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Dean screamed, his veins bulging out of his neck. Sam locked eyes with you.

“You’re going to be just fine, alright?” He said trying to give you hope and and sending you a soft nod. He was trying to give you some sort of comfort to help you through this. You saw right through him though. You knew you weren’t going to be alright and you knew that he knew that as well.

“Don’t watch!” You cried and Sam looked away, shaking his head with tears strolling down his face.

You felt the demon kissing you all over your neck and you bit your lip feeling the shivers rake through you. You started to taste blood because of how hard you were biting and before you knew it the demon crashed his lips to yours. You struggled and tried to turn away but he held you in place. He reached under the strap that was across your chest and started groping you. You cried into the forceful kiss and he squeezed you harder. You felt him leave your chest and trailed down below. His hand lingered on your inner thigh before it started trailing up. You let out a strangled cry and broke loose of his kiss.

“PLEASE NO PLEASE!” You screamed, crying. Just before he could make his next move, his weight on top of you disappeared. Dean had thrown the demon off of you. You were sobbing and saw Sammy starting to get himself free with what Dean had used. You looked back towards Dean and saw him fighting the demon. You felt hands touch you and you squeezed your eyes shut.

“Please, no! Please, no more!” You cried.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Sam, I’ve got you.” He said taking his knife and sawing through your restraints.

“Sammy?” You whimpered.

“Yeah bug, yeah, I’ve got you.” He said softly, working on getting you free. As soon as your hands were released, they instinctively went up to cover you. Sam was already two steps ahead and had his jacket off, ready to cover you before he started cutting through the thicker straps that were covering your body. He cut the first strap that was around your chest and took his shirt off to let you wear it. You threw it on and moved his jacket to cover your lower half. Sam cut that strap and then went to your ankle restraints. While Sam was working on setting on your bottom half free, you looked towards Dean and realized that the Demon was now dead. Sam set you free and you weakly sat yourself up and adjusted the shirt. Sam was really tall so his shirt ended up covered you to your knees. Dean made his way over to you as you shakily hopped off the table. As soon as your legs hit the floor, you felt like jelly and started to collapse. Dean grabbed you before you could hit the floor.

“Okay, that’s alright kid, that’s alright, I’ve got you.” He said as you whimpered in his arms.

“I’m sorry kid, I’m so sorry.” He said as he carried you out of the building.

He slid you into the car between him and Sam and you clung to both of them. Dean drove as Sam tried comforting you. You felt really weird. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain. A mix between disgust, embarrassment, discomfort, uneasiness, and shamefulness. You arrived to the bunker and shakily got out of the car. Your whole body was trembling and felt like jello so you clung to the side of the impala for support. Your brothers glanced at each other and knew they had to be cautious with their next steps.

“Do you want some help bug?” Sam asked softly.

“No, no, no, no, I’m good, I’m good.” You said softly. You already felt so weak, you didn’t want to look even more pathetic than you already were.

“Okay yeah!” Sam encouraged you. Both of your brothers knew you were on the verge of a mental breakdown which was more than justified, but they didn’t want you to get even more hurt in the process of it. You took a deep shaky breath before you moved your legs to start walking inside. Dean sent Sam a silent nod and Sam went for the door while Dean stayed close to you so he could easily grab you incase you collapsed again. You pushed your way through and inside the bunker and you felt your brothers eyes on you.

“Y/N/N-“ Dean started before you cut him off.

“I’m going to go get a shower real quick!” You smiled at them, trying to fight off your emotions that were pushing their way inside of you.

“Okay.” He said gently, unsure if he wanted to leave you alone in that moment, but Sam sent him a pained face and shrugged.

“Let us know if you need anything bug.” Sam said softly before you turned off and made your way to the bathroom.

As soon as you turned the shower on, your emotions poured out. You were sobbing. You felt disgusting. You felt like you were so physically dirty that you had to scrub your body. You didn’t wait another second even for the shower to heat up before you jumped in it with Sam’s large shirt still draped down on your knees. You let the water hit you and your tears mixed with the water as you continued to cry. Sam’s shirt was now soaked and weighing you down. You looked down at yourself and felt disgusted. You grabbed the bar of soap and started scrubbing your legs. You stumbled over your feet in your manic episode and slipped. You slammed down hard on the bottom of the shower floor, but you didn’t care. You sat there and continued to scrub your legs, sobbing. Your tears turned angry and you let out a strangled cry as you scrubbed your body raw. You didn’t feel the pain or notice your legs turning reddish pink until you felt someone reach out to stop your hands from causing any more damage. You let out a strangled cry from being stopped and looked up to see Dean. He held your hands tight in his hands as you flailed your limbs trying to escape his grasp.

“Hey, Y/N/N! I need you to relax kiddo please, I need you to calm down!” He pleaded with you. In the midst of your struggles, Sam jumped into the shower to hold you. He grabbed you from behind, sat down and pulled your back into his chest. The water was still on, soaking Sam and partially Dean. Dean still had your hands held tight in his.

“Kiddo please! Look at me, please! I need you to relax for me kid!” He pleaded again, squeezing your hands a little hard to try to snap you out of your breakdown. You relaxed and stopped flailing your limbs everywhere. All three of you were now soaked. Dean gently let go of your hands and went to turn the shower off. You brought your hands to your face and screamed into them, crying. Sam held you closer, trying to calm you down.

“Shhhhh, shhh, I know sweetheart, I know. I’m so sorry.” He said painfully. Dean clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn’t believe that this happened to you and he felt sick to his stomach. He felt so much rage bubbling inside him so he turned around and punched the wall. You flinched and whimpered, cowering into Sam’s chest.

“Dean.” Sam said, trying to snap him out of his rage with no luck.

“Dean!” Sam shouted and Dean looked over at him breathing heavily.

“You’re scaring her so you need to go take a walk and calm yourself down,” Sam said calmly. He understood Dean’s anger, but Sam has always been the level headed one with emotions so he needed to deal with both of his siblings. Dean’s face immediately softened when he saw your frightened face and trembling body. He looked back at Sam trying to figure out what his next move should be. Sam nodded with soft eyes and Dean walked out of the bathroom. Your sobbing had stopped, but you were struggling with trying to catch your breath.

“I need you to take a deep breath in for me,” Sam said softly. You nodded and tried to suck in a deep breath, but it kept hitching.

“That’s it, that’s alright bug, just breathe.” Sam whispered, encouraging you to work through it. After a few minutes of Sam talking you through breathing, you finally got yourself to calm down. Dean walked back in with multiple towels and clothes for you. He placed them on the bathroom counter before squatting down in front of you.

“Hey kiddo, let’s get you out of that wet shirt okay?” He asked softly, seeing you start to shiver. You nodded and stood up from the shower. Sam stood up after you and Dean tossed him a towel before turning back to you.

“Did you want to finish your shower or do you just want to get changed?” He asked.

“I’ll finish my shower,” you answered softly. You needed to wash your hair and finish washing your body. You just wanted to feel clean overall. Sam left the bathroom to go get himself cleaned up since he was also in soaking wet clothes. “Alright kiddo, let me know if you need anything.” He said sending you a soft smile.

“Thanks De.” You whispered as he walked out, shutting the door behind him. You showered and got changed into the clothes Dean gave you. It was his sweatshirt that went down to your knees and his sweatpants you had to roll up six times. You looked in the mirror and hugged yourself. You felt safe and comfortable in Dean’s oversized clothes. You brushed out your hair and finished your routine before stepping out of the bathroom. The bunker was quiet and you suddenly felt terrified being alone. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat.

“Dean!” You shouted for him. You felt paralyzed in fear and didn’t move. What if the demon came back and was in the bunker. What if the demon got your brothers. What if the demon was back to finish what he started with you. The irrational fears were swirling in your head. You knew Dean killed the demon that did everything to you, but you couldn’t snap yourself out of it.

“Dean!” You cried, tears now falling down your cheeks. Just as you let out a sob, he turned the corner into your room. You let out a strangled sigh of relief before rushing into his arms.

“Wow, wow, hey, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He said pulling you into his chest. He held the back of your head with his hand and gently swayed you. He could feel your heart pounding through your body. “I’ve got you, you’re safe,” he soothes.

“I- I thought the de-demon got y-you.” You stuttered.

“He’s never coming back kiddo, he’s gone. He’s gone and no one will ever put their hands on you like that ever again. EVER.” He stated. You nodded into his chest. You stood in his arms until Sam walked back into your room, fully dried and changed.

“Can you both stay with me tonight?” You asked weakly, terrified to be alone.

“Of course bug.” Sam replied as you hopped into bed. Sam trailer behind you and you knew by the look on his face he had something serious to say.

“We’ll get you the help you need okay? If you need to talk to someone, we’ll get you someone to talk to. If you need to join a support group, we’ll find you one. Whatever you need bug we’ll get it for you.” Sam said, staring into you.

“I just need the two of you.” You said, looking between your brothers and sending them a smile.

“We love you kid.” Dean said, kissing the side of your head.

“I love you guys too.” You smiled.

[hrast-ika]

gaslighting all of you (and myself) into thinking this was the real spn finale, where the fam and wayward sisters go to the beach and have a good ol time (i am never gonna finish these so i might as well post them on this special day)

[strawlessandbraless]

Cas watched Dean kiss one person who wasn’t him and was immediately all ‘I'm considering disobedience’ and ‘for the first time, I feel…’

[sammyluvr]

SUPERNATURAL M.LIST all works are gender neutral, reblogs + feedback are greatly appreciated !! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!! all nsfw fics are clearly labeled MDNI, this applies to ageless blogs. r for romantic, p for platonic ! ofc all nsfw is romantic !!!

SAM WINCHESTER DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ something about being close | 9.5K, angst, fluff, r ⟢ makes you wonder | 5.2K, fluff, r ↳ ⟢ part two : now you know | 6.8K, fluff, hurt/comfort ⟢ better than a sight for sore eyes | 1K, suggestive, MDNI ⟢ take my breath away | 13.7K, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ give and take | 0.7K, fluff, r ⟢ warm brown jacket | 1.3K, fluff, r ⟢ you’d dance with me? | 1.4K, fluff, r ⟢ three seconds | 1.2K, fluff, r ⟢ literary parallels | 3.6K, light angst, fluff, r ↳ ⟢ part two | coming soon … ⟢ this is real, it’s right | 3K, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ my boy only breaks his favorite toys | 10.6K, angst, r ⟢ forget-me-nots | 5.6K, fluff, r ⟢ but daddy i love him | 11.3K, light angst, fluff, r ⟢ some other time |1.1K, fluff, r ⟢ just an observation | 1.3K, fluff, r ⟢ hold me, it’s enough | 1.6K, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ breathe, baby | 4.1K, smut, fluff, MDNI ⟢ only got eyes for you | 2.7K, fluff, r ⟢ dead eyes | 2.4K, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ abstract (psychopomp)| 1.9K, hurt/comfort, angst, r ⟢ love you again| 2K, fluff, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ motel room, 10:00 p.m. | 545, fluff, hurt comfort, r ⟢ book shop, 12:00 p.m.| 515, fluff, r ⟢ motel shower, 12:00 a.m. |629, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ cabin, 3:17 a.m.| 658, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ campus library, 7:00 a.m.| 658, fluff, r ⟢ the impala, 4:00 p.m.| 608, fluff, comfort, p ⟢ in the woods somewhere | coming soon … ⟢ drooling honey | 1.1K, smut, MDNI ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, smut, MDNI, w/jess ⟢ i got you | 4.1K, smut, MDNI ⟢ you can take it | [tfem!sam]. 1.3K, smut, MDNI ⟢ worship you | 1.5K, smut, MDNI ⟢ my hands are yours | 2.8K, hurt/comfort, r ⟢ sweet smile | 1.9K, fluff, r

HEADCANONS ⟢ random boyfriend hcs | 1.6K , fluff, r ⟢ nsfw boyfriend hcs | 1.6K, suggestive/smut, MDNI ⟢ pirate!au | 1.1K, fluff, light angst, r ⟢ with adhd!reader | 0.8K, fluff, r ⟢ with talkative!reader | 0.7K, fluff, r ⟢ fake-dating!au | 1K, fluff, r ⟢ with angel!reader | 2.4K, fluff, r

FAKE TEXTS ⟢ gen z younger sibling | fluff, humor, p

౨ৎ

DEAN WINCHESTER DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ the language of love isn’t dead | 2.4K, fluff, light angst, r ⟢ flower shop, 11:00 a.m. | 644, fluff, r ⟢ gas station, 3:04 a.m. | 615, hurt/comfort, p

HEADCANONS ⟢ best friend!dean | 1K , fluff, p

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BOTH DRABBLES / ONESHOTS (all platonic) ⟢ sorry won’t cut it (rewrite) | 4.1K, angst, hurt/comfort ⟢ broken, fine for tonight | 1.3K, hurt/comfort

HEADCANONS (all separate) … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

RUBY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ abandoned church, 5:30 a.m. | 540, fluff, r ⟢ cry for me | 1.2K, smut, MDNI ⟢ lick it better | 1.2K, smut, MDNI, coming soon … ⟢ indulge | 1.2K, fluff, r

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

CHARLIE BRADBURY DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ make you feel so good | 1.K, smut, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JO HARVELLE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ so pretty | 1.7K, smut, MDNI ⟢ hooked | 1.6K, smut, MDNI

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

JESSICA MOORE DRABBLES / ONESHOTS ⟢ our girl | 1.2K, smut, MDNI, w/sam

HEADCANONS … nothing yet !

౨ৎ

© SAMMYLUVR 2024 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. COPYING, TRANSLATING, AND REPOSTING IS PROHIBITED.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Burn Out

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you try to juggle hunting with school, but one day you just can’t do it anymore.

“Hey kid, we need you in the war room.”

The knock on your door followed by Sam’s voice had your head shooting up from its position on your notebook.

“What?” You mumbled under your breath, before you got your bearings. “Oh no…”

You looked down at the notebook in front of you—under the drool, there was a half-finished history report. It was due tomorrow, and you hadn’t been able to get started on it until an hour ago, because you and your brothers had been on a hunt. How could you have fallen asleep on it? You had to get this done!

“Y/N?” Sam knocked again. “Can you hear me?”

“I—yeah!” You closed your notebook—hunting was more important; people’s lives were more important. You could finish the report later. “I’m coming.”

…

“I think we should call it a night,” Dean said. You stole a glance at your watch as you put down the lore book that you weren’t even halfway through—it was almost 2 a.m.

“Good idea,” Sam agreed, slamming his own book shut and heading for his room.

“Go and get some sleep,” Dean told you, reaching over your shoulder and closing your book for you. “We can finish this tomorrow.”

You weren’t sure how that was possible, since tomorrow was a school day, but you didn’t argue with Dean. You stumbled back to your bedroom, heading not for your bed, but for your report.

…

You never did make it to your bed. You were pretty sure that you dozed a few times—or at least blinked really long—but you still ended up finishing your report in time.

As soon as it was done, you got yourself ready for school, taking a quick shower and hoping it was enough to make you look refreshed.

Your next stop was the kitchen; you were hoping you had enough time for some breakfast before Dean took you to school. Only, Dean wasn’t in the kitchen like he normally was. Curious, you checked the library, the war room, the shooting gallery, and finally the garage—not only were Sam and Dean not there, but neither was the Impala.

There were only a few options; a last-second hunt (except they would’ve told you they were going), the local library for more books (which hadn’t been necessary lately with all of the books in the bunker library), the grocery store (except the kitchen was fairly well stocked), or a diner for an excuse to get out of the bunker. You figured the last option was most likely—none of the others made sense, and the guys had to be stir-crazy after all the research. They must have wanted to let you sleep in, which meant they must also have forgotten you had school.

“It’s ok,” you mumbled to yourself. “I can still make it.” You’d have to skip breakfast, but if you ran you might still make it to class on time even without the Impala.

It was going to be a long day.

…

You didn’t make it in time, but you were fast enough to just get a tardy instead of an absence.

“Glad you could join us,” the teacher greeted as he gestured towards a seat—in the front.

You didn’t respond as you collapsed into the seat, reaching into your backpack to pull out your report when your phone buzzed.

Dean: Where r u?

So he had forgotten about school. He was probably too sleep-deprived to remember what day it was; you could relate to that. You were just typing out a response when you noticed a shadow over your desk.

“I’ll take your report,” your teacher stated, holding his hand out. “And your phone.”

“But I was just—“

“Your phone, please.”

You handed your phone and your report over without another word, hoping Dean would remember where you were on his own—the last thing you wanted was to freak him out.

“Now, if we’re done with distractions, we need to get started.”

…

You tried to get your phone back at the end of class, but your teacher assured you that—

“You’ll get it at the end of the day. Just stop by the office before you go home.”

—which was bad enough, but when he followed it up with—

“Oh, and I think you should take this back.” He held out your report.

“Wha—why?” You asked, your heart sinking.

“It was supposed to be three pages, not two. If you get it back to me tomorrow with three pages, I won’t have to dock as many points. I think it’s your best option.”

“Um—ok.” You took the report, hoping that you’d actually get the chance to get that third page by tomorrow.

“Just a page more,” your teacher said. “Maybe expound a little more on the individual paragraphs and you’ll be good. And try not to stay up too late doing it,” he added. “I’m guessing things have been pretty busy with you lately—you never used to forget stuff like this. Are you—“

“I’m fine,” you assured him. “I just…I have to get to class.”

You turned on your heel, and your teacher didn’t try to stop you. You knew he was just concerned about you, but in your life you couldn’t afford to have people be curious about you. It never turned out well.

And you just couldn’t take anything else going wrong.

…

You’d forgotten to bring your lunch or any money to buy some from the cafeteria, so you hid out in the bathroom for most of your lunch hour. You got told off by three separate teachers for dozing in class, and there was a pop quiz in the last period over reading that you hadn’t had time to do.

When the final bell rang, you couldn’t get out of your seat fast enough. You made a beeline for the office, hoping that your phone hadn’t been blown up with messages—hoping that Dean wasn’t freaking out.

You didn’t get a chance to find out; you’d forgotten to charge your phone last night, so by the time you picked it up from the secretary, it was dead.

“It’s fine it’s fine it’s fine,” you muttered to yourself over and over on the walk home. You would get home, your brothers would be fine, you’d take a little nap…

You opened the door to the bunker, but you didn’t make it halfway down the stairs before.

“Sam! She’s here!”

Dean caught you at the bottom of the stairs, his hands going to your shoulders, which he gripped tightly.

“What is wrong with you?! Where were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Dean, I—“

Dean wasn’t listening.

“You can’t just disappear like that! Sam and I have been going insane! Of all the stupid, irresponsible things to do—“ Dean cut himself off, waving an angry hand in front of his face as if waving off the rant. He didn’t even notice the way your face was scrunching up, or the tears that were beginning to track down your cheeks. “You know what, forget about that. Forget about how you scared the crap out of us, and people are dying out there because we had to stop researching the hunt to look for you. Forget about how you made us think you coulda been dead. Where. Were. You?!” Dean’s grip was back on your shoulders, and he was shaking you. His face was tight with rage, his form towering over your own.

“I-I—“ your voice squeaked and broke, but Dean was still stiff with rage and waiting for your answer, so you tried again. Your voice was as tiny as you felt right now as you finally managed to choke out. “I was at school.” You didn’t notice the way Dean’s face changed—the anger melting from it as realization hit him like a train—because your eyes were too full of tears. “They—I—“ you wanted to tell him they took your phone, you wanted to tell him that you tried to find him before you left, you wanted to tell him you were doing your best…but you couldn’t. You couldn’t find it in you to give any excuses that could make him yell at you like that again. “I’m sorry, I…I’ll go help Sam with research.”

You ran past Dean, heading for the library.

“Dang it,” Dean mumbled under his breath, smacking the wall with his fist as he huffed. “So stupid, I’m so stupid!” He took a long moment to breathe, not wanting to look angry when he saw you again.

He had enough of a mess to fix already.

…

No one was in the library when you got there, so you went right to pulling books off the shelves.

After the first few books, you spotted one on a higher shelf. You were just reaching for it when you heard—

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Sam heading right for you. You were already stumbling out an apology before he even reached you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I thought you—“ you were blubbering, having not stopped crying since your encounter with Dean. Sam noticed immediately and his approach slowed as his hands rose innocently.

“Whoa, hey, it’s ok, you’re ok.” Sam continued to step forwards, but that just made you feel cornered against the bookshelf, and you started to panic as you couldn’t make yourself stop crying.

“I’m sorry Sammy, I was at school, I’m gonna help you now, I’m sorry I’m sorry—“

You didn’t notice the books slipping from your hands until they clattered to the floor. Your hands were starting to shake, and your knees were shaking so hard that you had to slowly lower yourself in a crouching position on the floor before you fell. You tucked your head into your knees, finally letting out all the stress of the past weeks as you sobbed.

“Hey hey hey…” Sam knelt down next to you and grabbed onto your shoulders. “It’s ok, just take some deep breaths. You’re ok.”

You could hardly breathe between sobs, but you tried your best to listen to your big brother’s instructions.

“Kid?” Your head lifted just a little when you heard Dean’s voice. He joined Sam next to you. “Slow down, sweetheart. Breathe.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whimpered, taking deep breaths between words. “They took my phone and I didn’t know what—“

“It’s ok, don’t explain,” Dean insisted. “Just keep taking deep breaths for me, ok?”

“Ok.” You sniffled, grabbing on to Dean’s offered hand and breathing slowly until your sobs subsided.

“Good, good.” Dean sat back on his heels, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve slowed it down, I should’ve known we were burning you out.”

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled. “I thought maybe you would figure it out—I can help you now—“

“No, no” Sam interrupted. “This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. And the research can wait—I think you should get some sleep.”

“And food,” Dean added. “Did you eat today?”

You rubbed your sleeve over your face, trying to stop your tears.

“You don’t have to baby me,” you said finally. “I-I can still help you guys.”

“Not today,” Sam countered. “And maybe not for a little while. We’ve been burning you out too much.”

“Look,” Dean added before you could argue. “Sometimes we can forget that you’re still just a kid, and you still have kid stuff to worry about—like school. That’s on us, not you. This isn’t your fault; we need to do better. And that starts with making sure you take care of yourself. So go get some food, and get some sleep. Everything else can wait, ok?”

You hesitated. “Ok.” You let your brothers help you to your feet, and then you couldn’t help yourself—you pulled Dean in for a hug, burying your head in his jacket. You felt his body shake a little as he chuckled.

“You’re ok kid,” he said, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“It’s ok,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Ok.” Dean was smiling as you pulled away. “Now get going.”

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