#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

[thewnchstrs]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Pairing: Winchester!Sister (OC)

Summary: When Bobby falls into a coma and can't be awakened, Sam, Dean and Ellie race to his side.

Disclaimers: almost smut, near-death, mentions of childhood abuse, blood

Word Count:  9.7k

S E R I E S   M A S T E R L I S T

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Dean’s POV

I could hear the Doobie Brothers even from where I parked the Impala outside of the last dive bar in town after having dropped Ellie off down the street to do some searching on foot. I yanked the bar door open, frantically looking around for any sign of Sam who’d been missing for the better part of four hours. 

I breathed a sigh of relief when I spotted him sitting at the bar hunched over a glass. “There you are.” Sam looked up at me. I raised my eyebrows, arms raised. “What are you doing?”

“Having a drink,” he slurred.

I eyed the dark liquid moving slowly around inside the glass before looking back to Sam with a questioning look. “It's two in the afternoon. You drinking whiskey?”

“I drink whiskey all the time.”

“No you don't.”

“What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars, you hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?”

I glanced around the six other patrons, spotting only one woman who was in her mid forties with blazing red hair. I looked back to Sam, “It's kind of slim pickings around here. What's going on with you?”

Sam looked back down to his glass, swirling the alcohol. “I tried, Dean.”

“To do what?” He wasn’t making any sense.

“To save you.”

I watched him for a second before pulling out the bar stool beside him, realizing it'd probably be a while before I could get him out of here. I motioned to the bartender, “Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat.”

“I'm serious, Dean.”

“No, you're drunk.”

“I mean, where you're going...what you're gonna become. I can't stop it,” he said, defeated. From where I sat now I could see that the rims of his eyes were red. “I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is...no one can save you.”

Although it's what I knew all along, hearing it come from Sam made my heart sink a little. “That's what I've been telling you.”

“No, that's not what I mean...I mean, no one can save you, because you don't wanna be saved,” he said, looking at me now. I kept my eyes on his, trying to understand where all this was coming from. “I mean, how can you care so little about yourself? What's wrong with you?”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stared back at Sam when my ringtone cut through the tension. We both looked away as I pulled my phone out, not recognizing the number. “Hello? Yes, this is Mr. Snyderson.” A low, firm voice was on the other end when he said something that automatically made my heart sink. The urgency in my tone making Sam look to me. “What? Where?”

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

Ellie’s POV

It nearly killed me to see Bobby look so vulnerable in the hospital's bed. He was found unconscious in his motel room, but he didn’t look sick, he looked like he was just sleeping. I looked to the doctor, crossing my arms over my chest, “So, what's the diagnosis?”

The doctor shook his head, flipping through Bobby's file. “We've tested everything we can think to test. He seems perfectly healthy."

“Except that he's comatose,” I pointed out.

“Mr. Snyderson, you're his emergency contact,” the doctor ignored me, looking to Dean who flicked his eyes to the doctor. “Anything we should know? Any illnesses?”

Dean wracked his memory, “No, he- he never gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch cold.”

“Doctor, is there anything you can do?” Sam asked.

“Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it...so we don't know how to treat it." I looked to Bobby, wondering just what kind of trouble he got himself into to get this way. “He just...went to sleep, and didn't wake up.”

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

We hoped Bobby’s last motel room he was staying in could give us some idea as to what happened to him. Sam looked back at us as he opened the door to the room, “So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?”

“Unless he's taking an extremely lame vacation...” Dean said as we looked around the seemingly normal room.

“I mean, he must have been working a job, right?” I assumed, the three of us opening cupboards, drawers, desks, but nothing even gave away that Bobby had ever actually been here. If it hadn’t been for the paramedics telling us the room number, I would’ve insisted it was the wrong room.

“Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know? Research, news clippings...Or a fuckin' pizza box or a beer can,” Dean said as he loudly shut one of the dresser drawers.

“How 'bout this?” Sam said from behind Dean and I where he stood in front of the open closet. He pushed aside the t-shirts and pants to reveal the back wall of the closet filled with maps, obituaries, diagrams of flowers and mushrooms along with different herbs.

“Good ol' Bobby, always covering up his tracks,” Dean chuckled.

“You make heads or tails of any of this?” Sam asked.

Dean reached into the closet and pulled down a print out depicting a flower, “‘Silene capensis’, which of course means absolutely nothing to me.”

“Here,” I said, pulling the obituary clipping from the wall. “‘Dr. Walter Gregg, sixty-four, university neurologist.’”

“How'd he bite it?”

I scanned the page, frowning, “Actually, they don't know. They say he just went to sleep and didn't wake up.”

Dean took the obituary from me, examining it. “That sound familiar to you?”

Sam leaned against the closet doorframe. “Alright...so let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something-"

“—that started hunting him,” I finished, nodding along to Sam’s theory.

Dean nodded too. “Alright, stay here. See if you guys can make heads or tails of this.”

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, “What are you gonna do?”

Dean smiled, “I'm gonna look into the good doctor myself.”

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

Dean’s POV 

“So you're Dr. Gregg's lab assistant?” I asked as she led me into Walter Gregg's office.

“That's right.”

I glanced around the place, the shiny oak desk, the numerous bookshelves and tall windows with the blinds drawn. His desk was cluttered with pens, books and papers like he’d disappeared out of thin air right in the middle of working. “His death must have come as a shock to you.”

She nodded. “Yeah, it did. But, still, to go in your sleep, peaceful...that’s what you wish for, right?”

“Yeah. Right,” I said as I looked back at the desk, picking up a book on sleep studies. “Dr. Gregg uh…studied sleeping disorders? Dreams?”

“I don't understand. I went over all of this with the other detective,” she said, seeming suspicious of me already.

I narrowed my eyes at her, “You already spoke to another detective?”

“Yes. A very nice older man with a beard.”

At least we knew we were on the right track if Bobby had already been here. “Well, I'd love to hear it again if you don't mind.”

The woman hesitated, “Thing is, I'm sort of busy. Maybe we could do this later?”

“Sure. Yeah. Just bring you down to the station later this afternoon, and get your statement on tape, do it all official-like,” I said, making her squirm under my gaze. She tore her eyes from mine.

“Look, okay, I didn't know about Dr. Gregg's experiments. Not until I was cleaning out his files.”

“His experiments...the ones he was conducting on...sleeping?” 

“No one knew, okay? Not the university, not anybody,” she said quickly before defensively crossing her arms over her chest. “I already spoke with a lawyer and he told me I can't be held liable for anything.”

I racked my brain for anything to get this girl talking. “Maybe you couldn't, but that was before the new evidence came to light.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and shifted on her feet, “New evidence? What new evidence?”

I hesitated this time before settling with my go-to: “I'm not at liberty to say.”

“Look, I'm just a grad student. This was a gig to cover tuition,” she said, anxiously running her hands through her hair.

“Maybe so. But, uh, still, this- this...this could go on your permanent record,” I bullshitted, making her eyes widen slightly. “Unless you hand over the doctor's research to me. All of it.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I desperately tried to keep my gaze ahead of me, failing as multiple college girls brushed past me in the dorm stairwells. I smirked over my shoulder, watching them descend the stairs until I’d made it to the room I was looking for.

I banged hard twice on the door, holding my badge up to the peephole. The kid slowly opened the door, the unmistakable smell of weed rolling out of the room. "You Jeremy?"

“Look, I don't know what the RA said, but I was growing ferns.”

I chuckled as I stepped inside, “Take it easy, Phish, that's not why I'm here.”

He visibly relaxed, “Really? Oh, thank god. Okay.”

I glanced around the cluttered dorm room. “I wanna talk to you about Dr. Gregg's sleep study.”

“Yeah. Dr. Gregg just died, right?”

I nodded. “You were one of his test subjects, right?”

“Yeah,” he said as he opened the small mini fridge behind him, holding a beer out to me before he paused. “Unless you're on duty or something?”

I glanced from the beer to the open door out to the hallway before shrugging, “I guess I can make an exception.” I took a long drink from the beer before opening up the files in my hands. “Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a ‘Charcot-Wilbrand syndrome’? Which means...?”

“I can't dream,” he said simply. “I had this bike accident when I was a kid and banged my head pretty good and I haven't had a dream since. 'Til the study. You know. Sort of.”

I frowned, nodding as I rifled through the papers. “What'd the doc give you?”

“It's this yellow tea. It…it smelled awful, tasted worse.”

“What’d it do?” Jeremy shrugged, “Just passed right out. I had the most vivid, super-intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?”

“Totally,” I said instinctively before coughing, getting back into character. “I mean, no.”

“That was it. I dropped out of the study right after that,” he said as he took another drink. “I didn't...like it. To tell you the truth...it kind of scared me.”

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

Ellie’s POV

By the time I made it back to Bobby’s room, Sam and Dean were sitting at Bobby’s bedside, whispering quietly to each other, their conversation immediately dying once I walked in. I ignored the way their words died on their lips as I dropped my papers onto the small table at the end of his bed. “How is he?”

“No change,” Dean said, glancing to Sam and then back to me. “What’d you find?”

“Well, considering what you told me about the doc's experiments…Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense,” I said, flipping the folder open.

“How so?”

I picked up the first print, handing it to Sam. “This plant, Silene Capensis, is also known as African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries.”

Dean looked up at me, “Let me guess. They dose up, bust out the didgeridoos, start kicking around the hackey.”

“Not quite,” I chuckled. “If you believe the legends, it's used for dream-walking. Entering another person's dreams, poking around in their heads.”

“I take it we believe the legends,” Sam said as I handed them more papers.

"When don't we? But dream-walking is just the tip of the iceberg."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, this Dream Root is some serious mojo. You take enough of it, with practice, you can become a regular Freddy Krueger,” I said, looking to Bobby. “You can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good, you could turn good dreams bad."

"And killing people in their sleep?" Dean assumed.

I shrugged, "For example."

Sam nodded, "So let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style."

"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty-night,” I confirmed.

"But what about Bobby?” Dean questioned, the one piece of the puzzle I couldn’t quite place. “I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"

"I don't know,” I said honestly, hoping we could figure this all out before whatever got to the other victims got to him, too.

"So how do we find our homicidal sandman?" Dean asked as we left Bobby’s room, walking the halls toward the exit. I felt the anxious pressure on my chest begin to lessen the closer we got to the outside. Being in Bobby's room was fine, but the rest of the hospital smelled like antiseptic and old people.

"Could be anyone,” I said. Suddenly the case became a million times more difficult, not to mention dangerous. "Anyone who knew the doctor or had access to his dream shrooms."

"Maybe one of his test subjects or something?" Sam offered.

Dean shrugged at the theory. "Possible. But his research was pretty sketchy. I mean...I don't know how many subjects he had, or who all of them were." We rounded a corner as Sam scoffed. Dean looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"In any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now,” Sam said.

At Sam’s words, Dean suddenly stopped in realization, a hand held out to stop Sam and I from going any further. I suppressed a groan, eyeing the exit just ahead of us. "You know what? You're right.”

Sam glanced at me then back to Dean, confused, "What?"

"Let's go talk to him,” Dean insisted.

I furrowed my eyebrows at the suggestion, unsure whether or not Dean was fucking with us. "Sure, but I think we might find the conversation a bit one-sided."

"Not if we're tripping on some Dream Root."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Sam raised his eyebrows, "You wanna go dream-walking inside Bobby's head?"

"Yeah. Why not? Maybe we could help."

"We have no idea what's crawling around in there."

"Well how bad could it be?"

"Bad."

"Dude, it's Bobby," Dean countered.

I thought about it, weighing our options. It was either that, or risk Bobby getting torn to shreds by this Boogeyman. Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. One problem though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless you know someone who can score some..."

"Shit," Dean groaned.

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, "What?"

"Bela."

"Bela? Shit,” I mumbled, shaking my head at the prospect. “You're actually suggesting we ask her a favor?"

"I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah."

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

Sam's POV

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, my head aching from staring at my laptop screen for what felt like forever. I glanced at my watch, counting down the seconds until I called Dean and Ellie to get back to the motel where I knew they were out just avoiding doing research.

Just as I brought my eyes back up to the screen, there was a knock at the door. Without thinking much about it, I pulled it open, but it wasn’t Ellie or Dean. I groaned as Bela sauntered inside. "Hey, Sam."

"Bela, I didn't think there's a chance in hell you'd show up,” I said honestly as she came to a stop in the middle of the room, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her knee-length jacket. Her legs were bare despite the cold weather outside.

"Well, I'm full of surprises,” she said. She sounded...different. “Though, truthfully...you wanna know why I'm really here?"

She took a step toward me as I took one back, almost reluctantly. She brought her hands down to the straps of her jacket tied around her waist. I swallowed thickly, "Okay."

"Because of you,” she said as she undid the knot and let the jacket fall off her shoulders, nothing but a black, silky, lacy, slip dress beneath it.

I desperately tried to keep my eyes on hers. "Uh...what are you doing?"

"I can't stop thinking about you,” she whispered as she brought her hand up to my cheek.

"What-" my questions were instantly silenced as she leaned forward and kissed me, the kiss deepening every second before I reluctantly pulled away. "Are you sure?"

Bela smiled up at me as she kissed me again. I brought my hands up to her arms as I turned us backwards, walking back until my legs hit the end of the bed and we fell together. Bela’s lips never left mine even as I rolled her over onto her back, kissing down her jaw to her chest and then all the way down her body.

"Sam,” she moaned, gripping my hair in a tight fist. “Sam. Sam!"

"Sam! Wake up!” A harsh voice rang through the room as my eyelids snapped open. The room was sideways from where I was leaning on my arm, drool making a steady stream down my chin and onto my wrist. My smile faded as I slowly sat up, wiping the spit from my face.

"Dude, you were out. And making some serious happy noises,” Dean said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder where Dean was sitting in the motel arm chair and Ellie was sprawled out on the couch, the two of them marking up numerous sheets of paper.

"Who were you dreaming about?" Ellie asked, smirking.

"What? No one. Nothing,” I dismissed quickly, turning away from them.

"C'mon, you can tell us,” Dean prodded. “Angelina Jolie?"

"No."

There was a beat of silence before Ellie spoke, "Brad Pitt?"

"No. No! Guys, it doesn't matter,” I dismissed, wanting to change the subject altogether.

"Whatever,” Dean said, shrugging it off. "I called Bela."

I paused, slowly turning back toward him, trying to seem nonchalant but it just came out awkwardly. "Bela? Yeah? She- what'd she...you know, say? She...gonna...help us?"

"Shockingly, no, which puts us back to square one. I've been trying to decipher the doctor's notes. Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do."

"You gonna come help with this stuff?" Ellie asked, chewing on the end of her pen, not looking up.

I shifted in my seat, hesitating, my heart still hammering behind my rib cage. "Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec."

A series of knocks came from the motel’s door, the three of us looking up at it. Dean pulled his legs down from the coffee table in front of him, peering into the peephole before rolling his eyes at us and opening the door. "Bela. As I live and breathe."

I held my breath as Bela came inside, dressed in the same black raincoat she’d had on in my dream. I immediately became even more flustered. Ellie shot her a forced smile from across the room.

"You called me. Remember?" Bela reminded Dean as he shut the door behind her.

"I remember you turning me down."

"Well, I'm just full of surprises,” she smirked.

"Hey, Bela,” I breathed out, trying not to focus too hard on my dream and getting it mixed with reality. I gave her a quick wave before averting my eyes again.

Bela furrowed her eyebrows at me as she opened her purse, pulling out a large jar and passing it to Ellie who was leaning against the small table I was sat at. "I brought you your African Dream Root. Nasty stuff, and not easy to come by."

Ellie turned it over in her hands. "Why the sudden change of heart?"

"What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?" Bela reached for the knot at the front of her jacket, undoing the belt as she slowly let the jacket slide from her shoulders. I held my breath, but instead of the small black slip before, now it was a dark blue long sleeve and pencil skirt. I let out somewhat a sigh of relief.

"No. You can't,” Dean retorted. "Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach 'em."

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right? Well, I'm doing it for him. Not you."

Dean raised his eyebrows at this, "Bobby? Why?"

Bela hesitated before speaking, "He saved my life once. In Flagstaff. I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied?"

Dean grinned, “Maybe."

Bela rolled her eyes to the ceiling but pushed his prodding away and beamed, "So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?"

“Oh, that’s cute,” Ellie said. Dean took the jar from her hands. Bela gave her a puzzled look before looking to Dean.

“Dean—”

"Oh, you're not going anywhere. I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head,” he said as he made his way to the closet, opened the safe where the Colt was safely tucked inside and set the jar of African Dream Root beside it. He snapped the safe shut and spun the dial. “No offense."

"None taken,” Bela said, agitated. “It's 2AM. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Get a room. They got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it." Bela was starting to visibly become angry when she realized we’d used her just like all the times she’s used us. She snatched her coat from the chair, huffing as she yanked the door open.

"Nice to see—” I started, standing just as the door slammed shut behind her. “...see you...Bela." Dean and Ellie glanced sideways at me, confused.

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

Ellie’s POV

Dean and I sat at the end of each of the motel beds as Sam brought the glasses of the dream root mixture. It looked less than appetizing: a light brown and green liquid with white foam bubbling on top. I didn’t dare ask him what was floating around in it. I hesitantly took it from his hands, staring down into it as he sat beside me.

"Should we dim the lights and synch up Wizard of Oz to Dark Side of the Moon?" Dean grinned. Sam and I furrowed our eyebrows.

"Why?" Sam questioned.

A beat passed between them as Dean narrowed his eyes, “What did you do during college?"

Sam scoffed. Dean then began to bring the cup to his lips when Sam suddenly stopped him, "Wait, wait, wait. Can't forget this. Here."

Pulling a small manila envelope from his shirt pocket, he plucked out three very small, fine strands. He placed one piece into my open palm and then Dean’s. I examined it, wrinkling my nose, "What the hell is that?"

"Bobby's hair." I glanced at him, "We have to drink Bobby's hair?"

"That's how you control whose dream you're entering. You gotta...drink some of their uh...some of their body."

Dean looked down at his palm, "Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body."

I hesitantly agreed as I dropped the hair into the unknown mixture. I sighed, "Bottoms up."

We chugged the drinks as quickly as we could, trying not to process the rancidness of it. I winced, forcing myself to finish it completely. I pulled the glass away, swallowing the last of it.

A moment passed before Sam spoke up, "Feel anything?"

I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve. "No. You feel anything?"

"No,” Dean said, stumped. He looked into his empty cup. “Maybe we got some bad schwag."

The sound of rain hitting the window filled the room. I looked toward the drawn curtains. "When did it start raining?"

Dean stood from the bed, pulling the curtains apart. "When did it start raining upside down?"

Sure enough, the rain was climbing upward against the glass. Sam and I stood from the bed, turning when we realized we were no longer in the motel but a dark, crowded living room.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “I think we did it.”

"Okay, I don't know what's weirder – the fact that we're in Bobby's head...or that he's dreaming of Better Homes and Gardens,” Dean said.

"Wait. Wait a second,” Sam said, narrowing his eyes at our surroundings. “Imagine the place without the paint job. More cluttered, dusty, books all over the place." We began to meander around the living room. Now that I was truly looking at it, it did feel familiar. The wallpaper, the couch, the pictures framed on the walls. Suddenly it hit me: “It's Bobby's house."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. There was just one thing missing.

"Bobby?!" Dean called out, his voice reverberating off the walls.

"Bobby?" Sam called up the stairs, but nothing.

I continued walking throughout the living room when my eyes settled on the front door. "Hey, I'm gonna go look outside."

"No, no, no, stay close," Dean protested.

"I'll be fine. Just, look around in here," I protested. Dean still looked unsure. "Look, we gotta find him."

Dean still didn't seem like he loved the plan. "Don't do anything stupid."

I nodded once before pulling the back door open, stepping out onto the porch, instantly stopping in my tracks. It was daylight, when before the house was swimming in darkness. But that wasn't the weirdest part. The lawn was a bright green, trimmed closely to the sidewalk that led to the house, lined with pink, yellow and red tulips. I furrowed my eyebrows at the scene. For as long as we'd known him, Bobby's house never looked like this.

The sound of the door slamming shut behind me made me jump. I quickly turned, trying the doorknob that wouldn't budge. I pounded my closed fist against the wood. "Sam! Dean!"

I turned toward the windows when neither of them heard me. Inside, I could see Sam still investigating the living room, his back turned to me. The house was still dark inside, even though the curtains were drawn. I slapped my hand against the window. “Sam!”

When he still hadn't heard me, I huffed, descending the porch stairs. I knew I'd have to find another way back inside.

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

Sam's POV

I pulled open the double doors that none of us had checked since we got here. I had a feeling I knew what was behind them, even though they'd since been taken out for as long as I've known Bobby. The doors led me into the kitchen, but it looked much different than I was used to. Light blue walls and pristine, sparkling white counter tops, placemats on a small, round dining room table. A damn cat clock was nailed to the wall.

"Bobby?"

As Dean and I walked deeper into the kitchen, I whipped around toward the door at the end of the hall. A quiet, murmuring voice coming from inside. I began to walk toward it when a familiar voice called us back. “Who's out there?"

Dean looked to the pantry, to me, and then back to the door. “Bobby, you in there?”

“Dean?”

“Yeah. It's me. Open up." The pantry door opened, Bobby, looking panicked, peered around the corner of the fridge.

“How in the hell did you find me?”

“We got our hands on some of that Dream Root stuff.”

Bobby's eyebrows furrowed, still looking for an unseen threat around the corner. “Dream Root? What?”

“Dr. Gregg, the experiments?” I said, trying to jog his memory.

“What the hell are you talking about?" Suddenly, the door across the hall began to shake violently as someone on the other side was banging on it. The lights above us started flickering. Bobby's eyes widened as he grabbed us, turning back toward the pantry. "Hurry.”

Dean stopped in place, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on?”

“She's coming," he said, sounding terrified.

“You do know this is a dream, don't you?” I tried to reason, but it was no use.

“What are you, crazy!?”

“It's a dream, Bobby! None of this is real!” I shouted at him over the shaking doorframe when suddenly the door flew off its hinges. The pantry door behind us slamming shut. We were cornered.

“Does that look made-up?” He asked, pointing past us. I followed his terrified gaze as a woman, dressed in all white came through the doorway. Blood soaked her dress, open and leaking stab wounds covered her chest.

“Bobby, who is that?” Dean asked.

Bobby hesitated as the woman came closer. “She's...she's my wife.”

My heart sank. I always knew Bobby had been married before, but he refused to ever talk about what'd happened to her. She drew closer. “Why Bobby? Why did you do this to me?”

“I'd rather died myself than hurt you," Bobby said, pain laced throughout his voice. Mine and Dean's eyes bounced between the two of them.

“But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me. Again and again. You watched me bleed. Watched me die.”

Dean grabbed Bobby's jacket in an another attempt to shake something loose, “Bobby, she's not real!”

Bobby didn't take his eyes off what seemed to be a spirit. “You were possessed, baby. You were rabid. And I didn't know what I know now. I didn't know how to save you.”

“You're lying. You wanted me dead!" She shouted. "If you'd loved me, you would've found a way!”

“I'm sorry," Bobby pleaded before she ran at us at full speed. I gripped Bobby by his arm, yanking him back into the living room and slamming the sliding doors shut before she could make it through.

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

Ellie’s POV

I followed the path of flowers around the house that lead to the back where there was a fenced-in garden, no sign of the junkyard that has always surrounded Bobby's house, since we've known him at least. I had just ducked under a clothesline hung with white sheets when I heard quiet footsteps behind me. I whipped around, but not quick enough to react to the bat being swung right at my chest. I fell to the ground, holding my shoulder where I'd been hit. I narrowed my eyes at the man above me. "Who are you?”

“Who are you? You don't belong here.”

“You're one to talk. You're in my friend's head.”

“You got a poor choice in friends. This is self-defense. He came after me. He wanted to hurt me!"

"That may be because you're a killer."I could tell now that this guy was my age, maybe even younger.

“You should be nicer to me. In here...you're just an insect. I'm a god.”

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

Sam's POV

Dean and I threw ourselves up against the double doors. Bobby continued to look stunned as he stood helpless in the middle of the living room. The doors behind Dean and I shook as we gripped the doorframe, trying to keep her at bay. “I'm telling you, all of it. Your house, your wife, it's a nightmare!”

“I killed her," Bobby mumbled, not having even heard what Dean was trying to tell him. I looked to my left, noticing a wire dangling from a table lamp. I yanked it from the wall, pulling it free from the lamp.

“Bobby, this is your dream. And you can wake up," Dean said as I began to tied the wire around the double door's round knobs. "I mean, hell, you can do anything.”

The screaming continued on the other side of the door, the wood shaking against the pounding of her fists. I wasn't sure how much longer they'd hold.

“Just leave me alone. Let her kill me already.”

Dean had finally had enough, grabbing Bobby by the shoulders as he pulled him away from the doors. “Look at me. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die! You're like a father to me." Dean was gripping the front of Bobby's jacket in his fists, pleading. His eyes were wide, searching Bobby's face. "You gotta believe me, please.”

Bobby hesitated, unsure of what to believe. “I'm dreaming?”

“Yes! Now take control of it.”

Bobby watched Dean for a moment before slowing his breathing, closing his eyes. It only took a second before the screaming and pounding stopped. I looked at the double doors. Slowly, I untied the wire and slid the doors apart. Sunshine shown in through the kitchen windows, no woman in sight.

“I don't believe it," Bobby muttered.

“Believe it," I said, turning back to him. "Now would you please wake up?"

In an instant, the three of us shot up in bed, back in the motel room.

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

Ellie’s POV

We'd gotten the call almost immediately that Bobby was awake. Dean and I stayed behind in the hospital room as Sam went to go check on Jeremy, who Dean was able to decipher after I told them what I saw.

We were flipping through Dr. Gregg's case files when Dean finally spoke up, breaking the silence, “Hey, Bobby. That stuff with your wife...that actually happen?”

“Everybody got into hunting somehow," Bobby said. It was horrible hearing about Bobby's dream, about his wife. I realized now why he never talked about her. Part of me wished it was just a horrible nightmare and not his past catching up with him.

“I'm sorry," Dean said.

“Don't be sorry. If it weren't for you, I'd still be lost in there. Or dead. Thank you."

A beat of silence passed as him and Dean looked to each other before Sam came in through the open door. "So, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm. My guess is he's long gone by now.”

“He ain't much of a stoner," Bobby said, reading from Dr. Gregg's file on him. "His name's Jeremy Frost. Full-on genius. Hundred-and-sixty IQ. Which is sayin' something, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head. Here's Father of the Year.” He handed Sam a printed copy of Henry Frost's driver's license. “He died before Jeremy was ten.”

“Looks like a real sweetheart," I said as Sam passed the picture to me. He reminded me a lot of the guys dad used to be friends with from the military: rugged, usually drunk.

“Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand," Bobby said. "He hasn't dreamt since.”

“Til he started dosing the dream drug," Dean said. “How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?”

“Hey, he was rooting around in my skull. God knows what he saw in there.”

“How'd he get in there in the first place?" I asked. "Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA, or something?”

Bobby nodded, “Yeah. Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest fuckin' thing.”

“Oh, I don't know," Dean chuckled nervously. "It wasn't that dumb.”

I turned to him, sensing his embarrassment, “Dean, you didn't.”

“...I was thirsty," he admitted.

Sam scoffed, “That's great. Now he can come after either one of you.”

“Well, now we just have to find him first.”

“We better work fast...and coffee up," Bobby said. "Because the one thing we cannot do is fall asleep.”

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

2 Days Later.

Sam and I closely watched Dean whose been on edge all day. His hands were gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. “I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a fuckin' ghost. Where the hell could he be?”

Sam glanced at me before looking back at Dean. “Dean, you sure you don't want me to drive? You seem a little...caffeinated.”

“Well, thanks for the news flash, Edison!” Dean shouted. I eyed the speedometer when Dean's phone rang. He fumbled with it as he pulled it from his pocket, frustration and caffeine making him clumsy. He snapped it open, “Tell me you got something!”

“Strip club was a bust, huh?” Bobby said on the other end.

“Yeah," I sighed, crossing it off our list. “That was our last lead.”

“What the hell, Bobby!” Dean shouted into the phone.

“Don't yell at me, boy. I'm working my ass off here!”

Dean tried to lower his tone, running a hand down his face. “Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just...I'm- I'm tired. What's Bela got?”

“What do you got, Bela?" Bobby asked. We could hear her in the background, but not enough to make out what she was saying. "She's got nothing.”

“Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now!” Dean slammed the phone shut and threw it to the seat between him and Sam. He closed his fist, bring it up to his mouth when suddenly, he veered the car onto a hidden road. “Alright, that's it. I'm done." He threw the car into park and cut the engine, settling into the seat.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Taking myself a long-overdue nap.”

Sam's eyes widened, “What?! Dean, Jeremy can come after you.”

“That's the idea.”

“Excuse me?”

“Come on man, we can't find him, so let him come to me!"

“On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?”

“I can handle it," Dean huffed out, his eyes already closed and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not alone, you can't," Sam said before quickly plucking a strand of hair from Dean's head. I followed suit. I wasn't gonna leave them to clean up this mess.

“Ow! What are you doing?” He yelped, grabbing at the back of his head.

“We're coming in with you," I said.

“No, you're not.”

"Why not? At least then it'll be three against one.”

Dean hesitated, looking to Sam and I, “'Cause I don't want you digging around in my head.”

“Too bad," Sam said already beginning to make the Dream Root mixture.

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

I sat up first, blinking away sleep. We were still in the car. I nudged Sam and Dean who sat upright, looking around the small enclosed dirt road we fell asleep parked on. "What are we still doing here?”

“I have no idea," Dean said.

A sound came just outside the car. Sam looked to us, “There's someone out there.”

We quietly filed out of the car, listening for more signs of what we assumed would be Jeremy. Then, I heard the noise again, soft and melodic. It was...music?

Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper 'I love you'.

“Hey," a voice said soothingly. The three of us turned. A woman, bathed in golden light despite the darkness consuming us, with dark hair and a yellow dress perched upon a plaid blanket. A picnic basket and bottle of wine were next to her. Dean froze in place at the sight of her. She smiled sweetly. I recognized her. Lisa. "You gonna sit down?”

Sam and I stood back. Dean gulped. Lisa patted the blanket and picked up the bottle of wine, refiling her glass. “Come on. We only have an hour before we have to pick Ben up from baseball.”

Say nighty-night and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.

“I've never had this dream before," Dean muttered, looking at us over his shoulder. Sam and I continued to watch Dean, knowing he was bluffing. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Dean," Lisa said. Dean looked longingly at her. "I love you.”

Dream a little dream of me.

Suddenly, the music cut out and the image of Lisa flickered until she was no longer in front of us.

“Where'd she go?” Dean breathed out.

We looked around the dense forest when Sam motioned toward the other side of the tree line. “Jeremy.”

Sam led the way, Dean and I following close behind. I kept my eyes trained on Sam's brown jacket, trying not to lose him as we dodged in and out of the trees. It wasn't until I'd happened to glance behind me when I realized Dean was nowhere to be found. I stopped, looking every which way, my chest quickly rising and falling. "Dean!?"

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

Dean’s POV

One second, I'm trailing behind Ellie in the pursuit of Jeremy through the thick forest and the next second, I'm not in the forest at all. I slide to a stop before I run straight into the wall ahead of me, painted with green oak trees. I slowly turned around, knowing that this was a dream. Knowing that anything was possible.

I was in a long hallway, doors lining the walls on either side of me. I glanced at each one, but it wasn't until I'd reached the end when the door ahead of me creaked open on its own, seemingly inviting me in. I stepped inside, quickly realizing I was back where this all started: Bobby's motel room. A faint clicking noise came from the otherwise silent, dark room. It was a man, sitting at the desk. His back was facing me, clicking the desk lamp on...off...on...off.

“Jeremy?” I called out to him. The clicking stopped, leaving the desk light on. In the light, I could tell it wasn't Jeremy at all. The figure looked halfway over its shoulder before standing, confirming what I feared deep in my stomach.

“Hey, Dean," it said. It was wearing my clothes, had my voice, in my skin.

“Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun.”

“We need to talk.”

I nodded as we began circling each other around the small room. “I get it. I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano y mano with myself?”

“Joke all you want, smart-ass," he said. It was unsettling to say the least. We stopped on opposite sides of the room. "But you can't lie to me. I know the truth. I know how dead you are inside...how worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror...and hate what you see.”

I ground my teeth, “Sorry, pal. It's not gonna work. You're not real.”

“Sure I am. I'm you.”

“I don't think so. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours. All I gotta do is snap my fingers and you go bye-bye," I said, ready to get this shit over with, knowing that the longer I stayed inside this part of my dreams, the longer Sam and Ellie would be alone to hunt down Jeremy. I snapped my fingers, expecting him to disappear. However, he only continued to stare back, solid as a rock. I snapped again and again before I realized it was no use. My hand fell to my side.

He smirked, as if he knew I'd try that. “I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you.” The door behind him slammed shut, the deadbolt locking into place. My heart rate began to pick up speed. He lifted a shotgun -- my shotgun -- that seemed to have materialized out of thin air. “Like I said...we need to talk.”

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

Ellie's POV

Simultaneously, Sam and I shot up in our seats in the Impala, yet Dean stayed asleep. Sam grabbed him at the shoulder, trying to shake him awake, “Dean. Hey. Wake up.”

Instead, it was Jeremy in the front seat. Quicker than either of us could react, Jeremy used the end of his baseball bat to smash into Sam's shoulder so hard I heard an audible pop. He groaned in agony, opening the passenger side door as he rolled from the car. I quickly grabbed Jeremy in a headlock from behind, but he was faster. He grabbed me by my shoulders, yanking me over the front bench seat. My back landed hard against the dash board, making me suck in a painful breath of air. He stood from the car, pulling me out by my arms and dropping me to the forest floor. I scrambled to my feet, rounding the car to meet Sam but the unmistakable sound of the bat slicing through the air filled my ears before it came crashing down on the middle of my back. I crumpled to the ground next to Sam, the two of us shuffling away as quickly as we could from Jeremy who loomed over us.

“Boy, you just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you?” He said, swinging the bat in circles.

“You're a psycho," Sam spit at him as we maneuvered backward on the forest floor.

Jeremy bared his teeth. “You're wrong.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Dr. Gregg.”

He scoffed, “The doc? No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff and then he took it away. But I needed it, and he wouldn't let me have it.”

“So you killed him?” I asked. Sam and I continued to kick at the wet grass beneath us to put as much distance between us and him but he continued to loom over us.

“I can dream again. Do you know what that's like, not to be able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for fifteen years.”

“And let me guess," Sam said, holding his shoulder. "That makes you go crazy?”

“I just wanna be left alone. I just wanna dream.”

“Sorry," I said. "Can't do that.”

Jeremy paused, looking between Sam and I before suddenly we were forced flat onto the ground. I lifted my head, looking down at mine and Sam's hands that were tied with ropes and secured with large stakes into the ground. Our feet were bound at the ankles. I tried pulling, but the knots only seemed to tighten, digging into my skin.

Jeremy stepped forward, looking down at the bat in his hand. No doubt the same bat that put him in this situation in the first place. “I'm getting better and better at this. Stronger and stronger all the time." I looked to Sam, praying he had an answer to get us out of here. "But you two, your brother? You're not waking up. Not this time. I'm not gonna let you.”

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

Dean’s POV

I didn't take my eyes off this other version of me. There was something off about him. We were circling each other again, like predators. “I mean, you're going to Hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it. Talk about low self-esteem. Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it?”

“Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up," I muttered to myself, unsure of where this was going. I knew that it wouldn't only be me that would die if I couldn't get back into my own body, but Sam and Ellie, too.

“I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Ellie and Sam," he went on, stopping in front of the desk. "You are nothing. You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.”

“Now that's not true," I said, trying to dismiss his words but knew I couldn't. This wasn't some monster trying to get into my head. This is my head.

“No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's dad’s. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?" He spat. I shook my head, trying to drown his words out. "No. No, all there is is, ‘watch out for Sammy and El. Look out for your siblings, boy!’ You can still hear your dad’s voice in your head, can't you?" He brought the barrel of the shotgun up to his temple, tapping it lightly. "Clear as a bell.”

“Just shut up," I warned, feeling a burning in my chest at his words because I knew, better than anyone, that they were true.

“I mean, think about it...all he ever did was train you, boss you around." He took a step closer. "But Sam and Ellie...them he doted on. Them, he loved.”

“I mean it. I'm getting angry," I warned again, but he went on.

“Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument. Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you!?”

I reached my boiling point, shoving him so hard against his chest that he flew across the room and smacked the wall behind him. “Son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard!”

He tried to get up but I was faster, kicking him square in the chest, sending him flying back against the stone. I grabbed the shotgun, shoving it against his chest and shoulders, keeping him pinned to the wall. “All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam and Ellie, that was his shit! He's the one who couldn't protect his family!”

I swung the shotgun back, bringing it three times across his face and pinned him again. “He's the one who let mom die. Who wasn't there for Sam and Ellie! I always was! He wasn't there! I didn't deserve what he put on me. And I don't deserve to go to Hell!"

For one last time I pulled the shotgun away and pumped four rounds into his chest, blood spraying.

My chest rose and fell quickly as I stepped toward my own lifeless body, slumped against the wall of the motel. Suddenly, the figure's eyes snapped open, clicking to pools of black. I took a quick step back, my eyes wide. “You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this? This is what you're gonna become!”

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

Ellie’s POV

"Please, stop!" I begged over and over as Jeremy continued to bring the bat down over Sam's beaten body. He groaned in pain, trying to dodge the blows but it was no use. "Stop!"

Jeremy looked to me, his chest heaving as he brought the bat down, but this time swinging it at my sides. Air escaped my lungs as the blows continued to rain down.

"Jeremy, stop!" Sam pleaded, but it was like Jeremy was in a trance, or he didn't care, or maybe both.

He finally took a step back and I could finally catch my breath. The faint taste of blood at the back of my throat. He pointed his bat down at me, just inches from my face. “You can't stop me. There's nothing I can't do in here.”

“Because of the Dream Root," I gasped out. I definitely had a few broken ribs. "Well, you're forgetting something.”

Jeremy shifted, planting his feet on the ground on either side of my hips. He squared his own as he raised the bat over his shoulder once again, working up what looked like would be a lethal blow right to my head. My blood ran cold. “What's that?”

I smiled, feeling blood coating my teeth now. “I took the Dream Root, too.”

A booming voice sounded on the other side of the forest clearing. “Jeremy! Jeremy!”

Jeremy whipped around at the sound of the man's voice, panic replacing the blood-thirsty look in his eyes. “No. No...dad?”

“You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy," Henry Frost stepped closer to his son who took two steps back for each one his father ascended upon him.

With his guard down, the ropes vanished. Sam was on his feet in an instant, using Jeremy's own bat to collide into his face. I hurried to my feet, watching as Sam swung one last time, bringing the bat down onto Jeremy's skull.

I flew upright in my seat in the car, Sam and Dean following suit. I gripped my chest to steady my racing heart.

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

We followed Bobby back into the motel room where Dean was just getting off the phone, turning to us, “Hey, you guys seen Bela? She's not in her room. She's not answering her phone.”

“She must've taken off or something," Bobby suggested.

“Just like that? It's a little weird," Sam said. “Yeah well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place," Bobby said.

I looked at him, confused, “I thought you saved her life.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“The thing in Flagstaff.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows, searching his memory. “That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that's all.” Sam, Dean and I looked to each other. “You three better check your pockets.” Immediately, we patted the pockets of our coats and jeans. Bobby sighed. “Not literally.”

Suddenly, Dean widened his eyes as he turned directly toward the safe in the closet. “No, no, no, no.”

I watched in shock as he pulled the safe door open. Where once the Colt had been safely tucked inside, it was now gone. I clenched my jaw. “The Colt. Bela stole the Colt.”

“Damn it, kids!” Bobby shouted, shaking his head.

“Pack your shit," Dean said, grabbing the keys for the car. “We're gonna go hunt the bitch down.”

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

Dean's POV

I glanced sideways at Sam as we stood at the trunk of Baby, zipping our duffles. “Hey, Sam. I was wondering. When you were in my head, what did you see?”

Sam shook his head, “Just Jeremy. He kept us separated from you. Easier to beat our brains out that way, I guess. What about you? You never said.”

I bit my tongue, thankful that was all he'd seen. “Nothing. I was looking for you two the whole time.”

I slammed the trunk shut, the two of us rounding the car and slid into the front seat. I turned the engine over, glancing in the rearview mirror to where Ellie was coming out of the motel, helping Bobby carry his things to his truck. My throat constricted. Although I'd hardly slept the last three days, I laid awake all last night, unable to get the image of me with black eyes out of my head. “Sam.”

“Yeah?”

I tossed around everything in my head that I wanted to say, “I've been doing some thinking, and...well, the thing is..." I paused, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "I don't wanna die. I don't wanna go to Hell.”

Sam was quiet for a minute before he nodded. I couldn't meet his gaze. “Alright. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you.”

I tried my best at a half-hearted smile but it came out as more of a grimace. I knew the chances were slim to none. “Okay, good.”

“You can't escape me, Dean.” The words rolled through my head again. I gripped the wheel. “You're gonna die.” I cranked the music louder in an attempt to drown out my own voice but it was no use. “And this? This is what you're gonna become!”

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

FOREVER TAG LIST

@spnbaby-67​​​ / @luciferslucille​ / @anti-social-club​ / @search-bar​ / @mellorine-paprika​ / @thepocketshoelace​ / @jaremish​ / @the-salty-asian​ / @robynannemackenzie-blog​ / @mersuperwholocked-lowlife​ / @caswinchester2000​ / @damnedimpala​ / @lauren-novak​ / @adeanmon​ / @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ / @defenderrosetyler​ / @resanoona​​ / @nyotamalfoy ​/ @ykta-m​​

EPISODE REWRITE TAG LIST

@strangedeerconnoisseur​ / @artemisandromedaathena-blog​ / @elite4cekalyma​ / @dragon-master-kai​ / @bxrbiewrites​

WINCHESTER SISTER TAG LIST

@bunnyandy12​ / @breereadsthings​ / @slytherinrising​ / @stressedoutkitten​ / @dragon-master-kai​ / @anniemayvampire / @anniemayvampire / @starfly-nicole

*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.

[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

[inlovewhithafairytale]

POV: Dating Dean Winchester....

[davilishuuu]

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

[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-

[sammyluvr]

broken, fine for tonight — sam & dean winchester

cw : gn!winchester!reader, hurt/comfort, some angst, reader's the youngest sibling, injury/pain, nicknames (kid, bud, sweetheart), 1.3K words. requested !

summary : you break your ankle but your older brother's are convinced it's just a sprain and leave to finish up a hunt.

dean sounds all gruff and almost annoyed when he says you’ll have to stay in the motel while they take down this nest of vamps. “you’ll be no help with a jacked up ankle,” he grumbles, because it’d be easier with three than two. but his eyes are a little soft as they flick down to your injury and you know it’s just because he’s no good at dealing with being worried about you.

sam comes back from the bathroom, giving you a sympathetic smile as he sets another pair of pain pills on the bedside table next to your half empty plastic water bottle. “you’re good to take these in half an hour,” he says, “and we’ll grab you a proper brace on the way back, alright?”

you give him a tight smile, your breathing measured so it doesn’t come across as labored. “sure,” you agree, still fighting against the pain in your foot in order to appear as composed as you’re expected to be. when you twisted it earlier today, sam and dean brushed it off as a sprain and haven’t stopped to think otherwise since then. 

dean had hauled you back up with strong hands and a comforting pat to your back. you’re alright, he insisted, ‘s just a little sprain, you’ve dealt with worse. he wasn’t trying to be dismissive, but you’ve felt a sprain before, and you’re sure that this is worse.

it must be a pretty bad sprain, sam said with a soft frown when you let out a pained gasp after trying to put just the slightest bit of pressure on it. he looped your other arm around his shoulders, and the two of them practically carried you back to the motel room. they set you down on the bed, and you know that sam normally would’ve checked your ankle with a bit more precision and care most days, but you’re all pretty sure that the vamps have caught on to you, which means the faster they get into the nest, the better. so he simply propped your foot up on all the spare pillows in the room with gentle hands, cringing each time the movement made you wince in pain. he wrapped it in an ace bandage, and you nearly cried out loud as he did. mind otherwise occupied, he’d just told you the pain would fade soon enough.

you think that somewhere in the back of their minds, both of your brothers know that you’re in enough pain to understand that this is worse than they want it to be. their concern is easy to read, but sometimes they hate the prospect of you being hurt so much that they’ll focus that energy onto a different problem until they have to face this one. so they’re out the door before you know it. 

hopefully they’ll give you a longer look when they get back. you’d very much like to go to the hospital to get checked out and hopefully return to the motel with a cast and pair of crutches.

the pain only gets worse and the minutes just drag. time flows so slowly that you start to worry, just like you do every time they’re off on a hunt without you. if they’ve been gone this long, something must’ve gone wrong, right? you check the time and realize it’s been less than a full hour. the ibuprofen you took a bit ago does nothing to help. 

your ankle hurts so badly that you’re teary and sniffly and even though no one’s here to witness it, you’re embarrassed by it nonetheless. but you might as well get the tears out of the way before they come back.

you’re convinced that it’s broken, and by the time the headlights of the impala shine through the half-closed blinds of the motel, you’re in too much of a haze to notice the door unlocking and the boys tramping into the room.

sam’s through the door first, and the second he lays eyes on you, he knows something’s not quite right. he says your name, soft of course, but still loud enough for you to hear. you don’t look over, and he drops his bag on the floor to rush over. dean immediately picks up on the tone of sam’s voice, following close behind.

sam’s big hand on your forehead rouses you. “hey. you with us sweetheart?” he murmurs, voice quiet and clearly concerned. your eyes flutter open and the only thing you can think to do when you register the worry on his face is give him a rueful smile.

“i think it’s broken,” you mumble, voice quiet and tired. you’re somehow numb and still hurting so much at the same time. dean gives a little scoff, more so out of affection than frustration, and rounds the bed to look at your ankle. you wince when he moves it, this time not bothering to hide just how much it really hurts.

“you think?” dean repeats back to you, “jesus, kid, why didn’t you say something before?”

“you didn’t give me a chance,” you retort, frowning deeply but too tired to actually sound upset. “you both said it was sprained.” before dean can make some comment about how it’s your ankle, not theirs so how would they know, sam intervenes.

“we’re sorry, bud,” he murmurs, “we should’ve paid you more attention.” you don’t see the pointed look he gives dean not to argue with you right now, or the way dean puts his hands up in frustration, then softens when he looks back at you. he knows that sam’s right, it’s not fair to get all snarky with you. he’s just fueled by worry and he forgets that his worry very easily turns to anger and irritability. dean’s not upset with you at all, but he is at himself for not noticing just how badly you were injured.

the way that he gently carries you to the back seat of the impala is his apology, plus the promise to find your favorite food after you get checked out from the hospital. sam sits in the back with you to keep you steady. steady and held. his hand holds your head softly, his other keeping your leg still as the car rumbles down along the road.

tonight, everything will be fine. your ankle will heal and once properly treated, it’s true that the pain will fade. sure, they won’t pay the medical bills with real credit cards and the doctor might be impressed or concerned, or both, by your pain tolerance. because this certainly isn’t the first time you’ve been cooped up in the back seat of the impala, hurting and maybe even a little scared while sam holds you and dean drives.

he always steals glances back at you through the rearview mirror, making eye contact with sam to be sure you’re awake and well. but he has to be the one driving because he feels like that’s the only thing he has control of when you’re like this. he just absolutely horrified by the thought that there might be a dark night on empty roads after a hunt or a nearly world-ending event where his can’t drive fast enough. what if, someday, you die in his car and your blood stains the leather, because how could he wipe your blood from the seats like that?

and sam’s the one who’ll be holding you, staunching your blood with his jacket, whispering assurances that you’ll be alright. he’s terrified by the thought that there might be a night where, in the backseat of this car, the place you all silently call home, you’ll die in his arms.

those are the sorts of things they think about. they know that you think about your own nightmares of them dying too. but in this life, the only thing you can do is tuck those thoughts away, somewhere deep and hidden, because tonight, everything will be fine.

[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.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Much (Little Sister Version)

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @redbird-tf

Synopsis: you have nightmares of dying like Mary, and you start to get really clingy with Dean.

It started out in a subtle way. Your first nightmare had been vague, and though it had jarred you, it wasn’t enough to curb your day-to-day activities…much.

“I’m going for a supply run.” Dean’s words had you looking up from the homework you’d been working on. “We’re out of beer…and food.”

“I’ll come.” You were on your feet before the words even left your mouth.

“It’s just a quick run,” Dean argued. “Don’t you have homework?”

“It can wait,” you insisted, already on your way to the Impala. “Let’s go!”

Of course it would be Dean—it had always been Dean. Sure, he had his anger issues and his bad moments. He drank too much and he isolated himself when he was upset. But he always came back; when Sam was at Stanford, when dad disappeared, it was always you and Dean.

So when you started having nightmares about burning on the ceiling, Dean was who you turned to.

Scary things shouldn’t phase you anymore, not after all you’d seen. But this was different. Your whole life you’d heard “what happened to mom.” Never any specifics—it was always, “the demon killed mom,” or “what the demon did to Mary.” Nobody ever gave you any details; they always said you didn’t need to know.

So when you snuck into Dean’s room in the bunker and stole dad’s journal, you were in for a surprise.

The pages you’d read had been stuck together—it didn’t look like anyone had read them—and it took you a moment to peel them apart.

I went to visit a shrink today—I thought he might be a vampire. I went in undercover, booked myself an appointment. I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t a monster, but I didn’t leave. It sounds stupid, but I actually talked to him. Told him about Mary. Well, as much as I could tell, which is more than I’ve told anyone. Point is, he told me to write down what happened to her. Every detail I could remember. I don’t like thinking about her…but maybe he was right. Little Sammy asked about Mary just the other day, and I yelled at him. I still feel bad…it’s not his fault, he’s just a kid. Maybe this is the only way I’ll be able to talk about her, but maybe that’ll be enough to keep me from going off on the kids. So here goes…

And John had laid out every gory detail of that night, and you’d read the whole thing. You’d always thought it would be better knowing; that it would somehow bring you some extra closure to know how your mother’s final moments went. You were wrong.

And so came the nightmares. The first one was fuzzy and indistinct; a fire, the sound of screaming. But it was enough to have you going with Dean whenever he left the bunker.

The second one was more vivid. It was also when you realized that it wasn’t your mother you were dreaming about—it was you.

It was so real—you felt the demon’s powers slashing open your stomach, you felt your body lifting off the floor…

But the worst part was the heat. It stung your eyes and sizzled against your blood and seared your skin. You tried to scream, but the smoke choked you and stopped your voice. You struggled to inhale, coughing on the smoke and crying at the pain that lit up every nerve ending.

The bright light of the fire left first, then slowly afterwards the pain. But you were still choking and gasping for breath when you sat up in your bed.

“Dean,” you whimpered, the lone word echoing through your empty room. You weren’t quite used to the bunker yet—you were so used to the motels, where your brothers were right next to you at all times. Most of the time it was annoying, but right now…

You threw your covers off you, finally getting a hold of your runaway breathing as you padded barefoot towards your door. You couldn’t stay in this room—it was this room that you’d dreamt of, this ceiling that you’d burned on.

You flung your door open and started down the hall, but you only got halfway to Dean’s room before you stopped. You couldn’t go to him like this, a tear-streaked mess in the middle of the night; he would know something was wrong, and then you’d have to talk about it.

You couldn’t talk about it.

A bang from the kitchen stole your attention and your breath, your mind wandering towards images of a yellow-eyed intruder. You tip-toed to the kitchen, peaking around the corner and breathing easily when you saw Dean rummaging in the fridge for a beer.

You slipped into the kitchen, heading straight for Dean.

“You’re up early,” he greeted, stiffening in surprise when you wrapped your arms around him. “Hey, something wrong?”

“No,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “Good morning,” you added lamely as you pulled away, as if the greeting would explain away the hug.

“Yeah, mornin.” Dean shrugged, choosing to ignore your strange behavior. “Couldn’t sleep? It’s only 5.”

It was later than you’d thought.

“Not really,” you said. “Can we make breakfast?” You weren’t hungry, but you’d take any excuse to keep Dean close.

“Only if you get the bacon,” Dean said with a grin.

“I think we’re out,” you answered.

“Unacceptable,” Dean decided. “You start on the pancakes, I’ll make a run.”

“Wait! Um…” you wracked your brain for an excuse. “Um, the pancakes can wait, I’ll go with you.”

Dean squinted ever so slightly as he stared you down—that was twice in a week that you wanted to go with him to the store without a good reason.

“You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, just…I want some fresh air.”

“Alright.” You both knew he didn’t believe you, but neither of you brought it up again.

You felt pathetic as you trailed behind Dean, but the idea of sitting around the empty bunker alone until he got back or Sam woke up…

You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own home, without Dean around.

You sat just a little closer to Dean than you normally would once you got into the Impala, sitting towards the middle of the seat even though the right side was empty. You felt Dean watching you from the corner of his eye, but to your relief he didn’t say anything.

…

“Ok, so how many pounds do we want?” You held a brand of bacon in each hand, eyeing them both. When Dean didn’t respond to your question, you turned around to find the cart there, but no Dean. “Dean?” You glanced up and down the aisle, but he wasn’t in sight. You threw both bacon packages into the cart and ran down the aisle, going down the row and looking frantically down every aisle you passed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

You rubbed a hand against your chest when your next breath wouldn’t go through your tightened wind pipe. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one was less satisfying than the last. Once you reached the last aisle with still no Dean, you turned around and started back the way you came, hoping that he was down an aisle on the other side of the store.

“Dean? Dean!” You were calling his name, but you could barely even hear your winded and squeaky voice in the vast emptiness of the store, so you knew there was no way Dean could.

You passed the aisle with your cart and kept going, looking down the first, then the second…

“Dean!” You rushed forward, flinging yourself into Dean’s surprised embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Dean was stiff and alert, whipping his head around to see what had spooked you.

“I couldn’t find you,” you whimpered, tightening your arms around Dean’s midsection. “I-I didn’t know where you went. Don’t do that to me!”

“Ok, ok hey I’m sorry,” Dean soothed, pulling away and kneeling down, brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. “C’mon, what’s going on with you? What’s got you so spooked?”

You didn’t answer—you just launched yourself forwards and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck, burrowing your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded.

“Ok, ok.” Dean held you closely, rubbing your back. “Ok I’m right here kiddo. Let’s get out of here, ok? Let’s go home.”

…

You held Dean’s hand in vice grip on the way out to the car, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited until you were safely bundled into the Impala to speak again.

“Kid, you need to tell me what’s going on here.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean glanced at you, but he didn’t speak again.

…

You were feeling lucky for most of the day—Sam and Dean spent the morning going through books in the library, so you were able to do your homework right next to Dean without warranting worry or attention.

“Check this out.” Sam’s words to Dean had you looking up curiously while Sam turned his computer around. “Looks like a case in town.”

Your heart dropped to your toes—you were too young to hunt, so a hunt in town meant that you sat in the bunker while the boys were out.

They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the case before they got ready to head out. Dean was throwing guns in a bag in his room when you went to find him.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Dean promised. “But if we find the thing that’s killing these people, it might not be until late, so don’t wait up ok?”

“Can’t I come?” Your tug on Dean’s sleeve stopped his movements.

“You know you can’t,” he said. “What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing, because I know something’s wrong.”

“I just don’t want you to go,” you said. “Please De? Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked.

You shook your head.

“Then I have no choice.” Dean sighed. “People are dying, and you can’t come. I have to go.” Dean zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be back before tomorrow.”

“Dean—“ you reached out for your big brother, but in one stride he was out of your reach, then to the door, then he was gone.

…

You were trying to read the same page over and over, but the words were swimming around the page, blurred by the tears in your eyes and the shaking in your hands that had the pages fluttering. You looked up for the millionth time, a deep pit in your stomach convincing you each time that the yellow eyes demon would be standing in your doorway, waiting to kill you.

You dropped the book on your desk with a thud, finally giving up on homework—you wouldn’t get anything done until Dean was home, you just couldn’t focus.

You picked up your headphones and slipped them over your head, but you found that not being able to hear your surroundings made your anxiety even worse, and the soothing notes of your favorite song did nothing to help for once. You tried turning on the tv, but you found that you couldn’t look away from the door for more than a few seconds before you started to get scared again.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore—you closed your room door, your bathroom, and even your closet; open doors just had your imagination running away with images of yellow eyes coming to kill you.

You burrowed yourself under the covers and tried to force yourself to sleep. Hour after hour you convinced yourself that you’d just never be able to sleep, but you didn’t have anything else to do but keep trying, so you didn’t move.

You were still laying there when the door opened.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. You smiled at him, and he smiled back for a second before the smile faded. “Me and Sammy have another case—we’re gonna be gone a while, ok?”

“No, wait!” You tried to get up to stop Dean, but you couldn’t move. “Dean, don’t go! Dean don’t leave!”

He was already out the door, and in his place stood Azazel, pale yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Dean!” You screamed, but it was too late; your pajamas were already soaked in blood coming from a painful gash across your stomach. You whimpered, finally able to move as you wrapped your arms around the wound as if you could protect yourself. You couldn’t.

You were sobbing as your body lifted off the ground, your stomach lurching as you went from wall to ceiling. There was no warning spark, or small flame—you were just suddenly and completely engulfed in flames, your hair burning and your skin scorched. You were still screaming when Dean came running back into the room.

“Dean,” you whimpered. “Dean no!”

Yellow eyes had a knife in his hand, and he turned it on your big brother in an instant. As the fire burned around you, you watched as Dean got stabbed again and again and again…

You woke up screaming. The fire was gone, and so was the pain, but you couldn’t even tell. Your eyes couldn’t take in a single detail of the room—they were blurry and unfocused from sleep. Your brain couldn’t decipher what parts of your dream were real and what weren’t. You sobbed out short and shaky breaths, and your cries were just starting to fade into whimpers when you heard it; the loud thunk of the bunker door closing.

Your fears and your crying returned full force, and you were gasping for breath as you felt around for any kind of weapon.

He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming he’s coming…

It was like all you could see was Azazel as you heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. You wanted to do what Dean always did—push his fear down, throw away his emotions, and just fight—but you couldn’t. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t stop sobbing, and you couldn’t find your gun.

When your door handle started to turn, you thought you were going to pass out. Your already-unsatisfying breath caught in your throat, and with the lack of breath came black spots at the edges of your vision.

You forced a single deep breath in and out—you couldn’t be unconscious when the demon came to kill you, you couldn’t be that helpless. You had to fight, even though you would lose.

The door swung open, and you were still gasping for breath and grappling for any kind of weapon when—

When Dean walked in.

“Dean!” You were off the bed and in your brother’s arms before he had a chance to speak.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Dean’s arms tightened around you when he heard you sobbing and felt you shaking. “Baby what happened?”

“Don’t leave me,” you begged between sobs. “Don’t leave me De, don’t leave me.”

“Ok, ok I’m not going anywhere,” Dean promised. “N/N I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?” Sam walked into the room, staring at his siblings with concern.

“I…I think we’re ok here,” Dean decided, carrying you to your bed. “You should go bandage that cut, I’ve got her.” When Sam hesitated, Dean assured him, “I’ve got her Sam.”

Sam finally left, and Dean climbed up on your bed, settling you into his lap when you wouldn’t let your vice grip around his neck go.

“I need you to talk to me,” Dean pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on, what this is.”

“There was fire,” you whimpered, your tears soaking Dean’s shirt. “There was fire, and it burned everywhere, and I was bleeding and I was on the ceiling, and-and yellow eyes stabbed you, and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Dean started to rock you back and forth subconsciously. “Hey, how do you know about all that stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” You were sobbing again. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I read his journal and he wrote down everything and I thought it would help but…but now I can’t stop dreaming about it. I’m so—I’m so scared, De. All the time.”

“Shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here. Listen,” Dean tried to pull away so he could look at you, but you just tightened your grip. “Ok. I used to have nightmares about mom, too. All the time. I still get them sometimes.”

“You do?” You sniffled. “What do you do about them?”

“Well now it’s easier, because we killed yellow eyes. He’s gone, N/N. Nobody’s ever gonna die like mom did again, especially not you. You know that, right?”

“The dreams feel so real,” you answered.

“I know, I know they do. But they’re not. And I’m gonna help you through this, but kiddo, I can’t be around all the time, you know that. I’ve got a job to do.”

“O—ok,” you sniffled. “I can do better.”

“But I’m still gonna be here when you need me. I promise.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you right now.”

Dean’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter around you.

“Then I’m here for you.”

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[unknowntoyou2205]

Stocking Filler

Info: Living on the road means no Christmas tree, but Dean makes sure his little sister has some of the Christmas magic.

Relationship: Winchester brothers x sister

Living on the road with an 8 year old was hard, but during the Christmas period it was harder for the brothers to keep their little sister lively. Seeing all the Christmas trees at each motel they went to, y/n always frowned when she seen the boxes that were underneath the tree. When they went to victims houses and see the piles of presents underneath the tree for the kids, Dean felt disheartened, knowing his sister couldn’t have that. But he wanted her to have some form of a normal childhood, so tried to do something special for her each year.

Y/n always stood admiring the Christmas lights that dotted the shops ceilings during Christmas time. She loved to press the buttons of each teddy bear or decoration she seen, much to the annoyance of her brothers. For an 8 year old she was very understanding when it came to their lives being very different to that of a normal family, but December she was always disappointed, knowing she couldn’t have the Christmas joy regular kids her age had.

“Sam, what is Christmas?” Y/n asked, looking up at her older brother innocently. Sam’s heart broke a little, knowing she wouldn’t get to experience the magic. “Well, Christmas is different for everyone. But for most of the world it’s a time for family and presents.” Sam spoke as he crouched down to his sister. “Why do they have a tree indoors?” Y/n asked, confused. “Well they place presents under the tree and then open them on Christmas day.” “Why don’t we have that?” “A tree in baby, no way.” Dean remarked, shaking his head rapidly at the thought. “No silly, presents.” Y/n giggled, and Dean and Sam looked at each other with sadness. “Our gift is each other, that we survived another year of hunting.” Dean smiled, crouching down beside Sam. “I like our present.” Y/n smiled widely, throwing her arms around her brothers necks. “Me too.” Sam sighed, patting his sisters back slightly.

Y/n pulled apart from the two older Winchesters before running down the aisle to where a large bear was dressed up as Santa and dancing. Sam watched her as she began wiggling with it with a laugh before looking to Dean who was moving away from him.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked his brother, frowning at him. “Getting her a selection box.” Dean stated, moving towards the chocolate section. “Your gonna make her hyper.” Sam called out. “No, I’m gonna give her Christmas memories.” “With a box of chocolates?” “Every kid loves them Sam.” Dean remarked, throwing his arms out before flipping him off.

True to Deans word, he got y/n a selection box, and she was over the moon to see the box cut out like a stocking . And true to Sams word, she became hyper on the chocolate, refusing to leave even one bar left. She winded up causing herself a sugar crash with all the giddiness she had, and Sam glared at Dean who avoided his sight.

“Told you she’d get hyper.” Sam snapped at his older brother. “Oh one day of her being hyper, the tragedy.” Dean spoke, acting scared, “let her live like a normal child for once Sammy, she doesn’t get that often.” “There are other things that could give her a normal childhood for a while.” Sam shot back. “Like the playground or something.” “It’s Christmas Sammy, you see her watching the presents under the trees and lights hung around. She doesn’t get that normal Christmas that every other child does, let her have this”  Dean spoke harshly, glancing in the rearview mirror to watch as y/n moved around in her seat to an uncomfortable position. “Who’s fault is that?” Sam snapped. “Don’t go there Sammy.” Dean shouted, only for Sam to look back when they heard whining, “Look I know you don’t agree with the way dad has her life, but we can make it a little better by giving her some aspects of a normal childhood alright.” Dean spoke softly, not wanting to wake their sister. “Right.” Sam sighed, leaning his head against the window.

---------

Case after case the Winchester’s rolled through each town, barely stopping for more than a few days, and soon it was Christmas eve. Dean had parked the impala at the top of the hill, and before Sam could remark about his choices the oldest brother leaned back to shake y/n who was covered in Sam’s jacket as she slept.

“What?” Y/n asked tiredly, not opening her eyes. “Come on, I want to show you something.” Dean spoke, moving to get out of the car. “What?” Y/n asked again, this time opening her eyes. “Yea what?” Sam asked, also moving to get out of the car. “I heard town folks talking about their annual firework display Christmas eve.” Dean explained to his brother before opening the back door and lifting y/n out of the car. “This is your way of giving her some form of Christmas.” Sam asked, confused as he grabbed his jacket. “Think positive Sammy.” Dean remarked, placing y/n on the hood of Baby before jumping on himself, Sam wrapping y/n in his coat once again.

The sibling trio remained silent as they overlooked the town below. Y/n leaned against Dean tiredly, and he wrapped an arm around her to keep her from falling. Seeing the crowds of people begin to gather down below, Dean nudged y/n to wake her up once again.

“Watch this y/n.” Dean spoke, leaning down to tuck some of the girls hair behind her ear. “Huh?” Y/n mumbled, confused on what was going on. Look.” Dean pointed to the sky as the display began.

Hearing the first bang, y/n quickly woke up and looked ahead with wide eyes. Sammy couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face, grabbing one of y/n’s little hands to squeeze them reassuringly. Dean jumped down from the impala to lean against it, keeping his arm around y/n’s waist. He looked at the young girl to see her watching amazement, and he smirked at himself. Y/n quickly grew accustomed to the bangs, and began to giggle as the colourful sparks lit up the sky. Sam shared a look with Dean, nodding in confirmation.

“They’re pretty.” Y/n remarked, reaching a hand out in front of her. “Yea they are.” Dean smiled, looking at his sister who’s eyes never left the sky. “Can we watch them again?” Y/n asked as the display finished, a light trace of smoke filling the air. “Maybe another time. It’s getting late.” Sam spoke, and y/n awed in disappointment. “Hey now, no sad face for tonight of all nights.” Dean spoke, placing a finger under y/n’s chin to lift it up. “We’ll see them again soon.” Sam pointed out, and y/n smiled at that. “Why don’t you go to sleep, we’ll be at our next spot soon.” Dean leaned down to kiss y/n’s head before picking her up. “Will you stay with me?” She asked, snuggling into Dean’s chest. “No way is Sam driving.” Dean spoke quickly, causing y/n to lean away from him. “I’ll stay with you y/n, don’t mind him.” Sam spoke, sliding into the back where y/n happily crawled in to snuggle with her brother. “Yea your gonna be so stiff.” Dean remarked, sniggering at the thought of Sam’s long legs going numb from the back. “I don’t care if it gets her to sleep.” Sam remarked back, rubbing y/n’s arm gently as she closed her eyes. “Don’t complain to me when your legs go numb.” Dean spoke before starting the engine. “You know for someone who went out of his way to give y/n some form of Christmas, your very sour when it comes to getting her to sleep in the car.”  Sam remarked. “I can’t hear you over the music.” Dean spoke, even though they both knew he could since it wasn’t that loud.

---

 Christmas morning, Dean and Sam sat at the table while y/n slept in. They were researching for their new case in town, and with libraries close for the holidays they only had their old laptops to work on. Dean looked over Sam’s shoulder when they heard movement, and soon a little face popped up from the pillows.

“Rise and shine sleepyhead.” Dean remarked, and y/n only groaned, turning away from them.

Sam didn’t turn around, waiting for the little one to come up to them. When he heard movement, he braced himself for impact, only to hear a gasp instead causing him to whip his head around in confusion, missing the smirk on Dean’s face.

“What’s up y/n?” Sam asked. “A socks one the floor.” Y/n replied, jumping off the bed. “That is where you threw them last night?” Sam spoke, confused. “Not my sock, a big sock, bigger than yours.” Y/n remarked, lifting up the sock with excitement. “What?” Sam asked, whipping his head to look at Dean who sat there with a smirk. “What you get y/n?” Dean called out, and y/n came running to them. “There’s something in it.” Y/n spoke excitedly, throwing the sock onto the table as she climbed onto Dean’s lap. “Damn right there is, it is Christmas after all.” Dean commented, and Sam chuckled in disbelief. “What you get y/n?” Sam asked, closing the laptops and moving them away to make room.

The brothers watched as y/n excitedly tipped over the sock, allowing the contents to fall out of it. Small toys, a bouncy ball and some coins landed on the table, and Dean moved y/n’s hair out of her face as she looked through the contents excitedly. Sam looked over y/n’s head at Dean, who just shrugged at him. Seeing a Christmas card at the bottom, Sam reached out to get it, before reading it and laughing.

“What?” Y/n asked innocently, reaching for the card. “I think this is for me and Dean y/n.” Sam spoke, moving his hand away from y/n. “It was in my stocking.” Y/n spoke sassily. “It isn’t exactly for your age.” Sam remarked, looking at Dean with a raised eye brow. “It was in the girls stocking Sam.” Dean spoke, smiling as he knew what was in it. “Merry Christmas you filthy animal. Out of all the cards you choose that.” Sam remarked, and Dean just smiled. “Well she is an animal.” Dean joked, tickling y/n’s sides causing her to squirm. “Merry Christmas y/n.” Sam spoke, deciding to ignore Dean’s antics. “IS this Christmas?” y/n asked, squinting her eyes. “This is our Christmas.” Dean spoke, leaning down to lean his head on y/n’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas Dean.” Y/n moved to wrap her arms around her oldest brother, “Merry Christmas Sammy.” She jumped over to Sam, who caught her before she fell. “Merry Christmas y/n.” Dean smiled, bouncing her new ball on the table.

[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…’

[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

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“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.”

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