Summary: Have you ever felt like you’re too far up your fandoms that you’re not really living your real life? Well, that. But more.
Word Count: 1,817
Pairings: Dean x reader, Sherlock x reader
Warnings: You’re not gonna like it. Sudden fandom changes, bit of smut which is not really smutty, lazy writing, suicidal attempt, usage of drugs and alcohol, OOC scenes.
Original A/N: Because of who I am, I like to exaggerate everything. With that being said, let me tell you that this is how I felt for many years, with multiple fandoms. I have lived a tortous life, therefore I was always seeking to live somewhere else. Almost all of my childhood and teenage years were an on-going loop between my fake life inside my fandoms and my real life. I barely remember anything now outside that make-pretend life I created for myself. Now I am living my life, in a way that I can no longer hide inside that fake life. Call it what you want. Anxiety is coming back to me, fyi, and I tried to hide there but I just can’t. This is my way of expressing it. The Girl, Interrupted theme is because I watched it yesterday after performing Lisa’s monologue at my acting class - a way of giving therapy to myself through art. Anyway, I hope you don’t read this fic. I didn’t like it at all, but I feel the need, nonetheless, to share it somewhere. To have evidence that I went through that. Probably, someone out there has too. Idk.
New A/N: I wrote this MONTHS ago, long before I got diagnosed, and I got scared of posting it because it could be too depressing. But I hate leaving drafts all alone so here goes nothing.
Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought you were moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy… Maybe it was loneliness…
“Put her in restraints!” A woman yelled. “Withdraw blood… Give her five milligrams of Valium, IV”
“Turn her head so she doesn’t aspirate,” another woman advised. I felt my head being turned by a pair of terribly warm hands.
I was attacked. I had been attacked.
“You should check my hand. There’s no bones in it anymore…”
“What were you thinking?” The first woman asked.
“I was trying to save the world…” I replied, “Don’t worry, you’ll thank me later.”
Sometimes it’s hard for me to stay in one place.
“Hey,” I opened my eyes at the familiar voice. The image at first was blurry, but I could recognize the colors of their flannel shirts. My back was killing me, and my arms felt numb. “(Y/N) are you okay?”
“Yo, sweetheart! Wake up!” A rough voice called out. I could see his red flannel.
Red flannel. Dean was wearing a red flannel, and Sam had the green one. That could only mean one thing…
I looked down at my own clothes, I was wearing a brown flannel.
I smiled childishly, and my vision finally cleared. Both men were staring at me, worried. “I’m home,” is all I could say.
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, Sam smiled back at me.
“Yes, you are,” he said, “you’re home with us. Where else would you be?”
“At a hospital or some shit,” I replied.
“We don’t do no hospitals, sweetheart,” Dean reminded me from afar.
“Did we get him? The djinn?” I inquired, with wide eyes.
“Yup,” Sam nodded.
Dean appeared back again, handing me a cold beer. It was closed. Sam took my hand and guided it to my forehead, so I could press the bottle to my forehead. I was probably wounded there too.
“We Jafar-ed the shit out of him,” Dean snorted. Sam inhaled profoundly, as an attempt to not slap his brother. “I Jas-min that we almost didn’t make it…” Dean continued, “but enough Abu me,” he giggled, “how was your daydream, sweetheart? Where’d Iago?”
“Please, stop,” Sam begged. Dean tried to argue but Sam was already looking back at me. “But do tell us where did you go?”
“I…”
“Where did you go?”
“(Y/N)” a strong light blinded me for a second. I suddenly felt something in my eyes, pulling them open. “(Y/N), we’re calling you!” The voice chanted. “Hello, Earth requires Ms (Y/N)…”
“Wha-what?” I stuttered, pulling away from the light.
The scenery had changed. I was no longer at a motel room with awful wallpaper, but instead at a very nice living room, though the wallpaper was still awful.
“Are you okay?” The man that had been calling my name asked. He kneeled in front of me.
“Are you real?” I tilted my head to the side, and he smiled tenderly.
“As real as your nose,” he said and booped my nose. His touch was soft and warm.
“What happened?”
“You fainted,” another voice answered. I looked back, only to see the familiar figure of Sherlock sitting on his desk, typing furiously on his computer. “I told you not to get too close to the evidence, but did you listen? No, why?” He gazed back, “Because ‘oh Sherlock, don’t be so stern, it’s just a flower bouquet!’ but I was right, as usual.”
“Let her breath,” Watson commanded. “We both smelled it too and nothing bad happened.”
“Yes, but so did the police officers… All male, I must remind you” Sherlock snapped. “The flowers were sent to a woman who, where is she now? Oh, yes, DEAD!”
“I don’t get it,” I interfered.
“I suspect the flowers are poisoned with some sort of chemical that only affects women, by reacting to their production of hormones.” Sherlock informed me.
“Right… And what does that have to do with your intoxication?” The female voice asked again.
I suddenly snapped back to the hospital. I was laying in a hospital bed, with lots of tubles connected to me. There was a woman in white, sitting by my side with a notepad on her lap.
“Well, obviously I’ve been affected… It’s the flowers, you see…” I spoke.
“Flowers? What flowers?” The nurse, she was a nurse, asked again.
“The poisoned flowers!”
“Do you see them now?” She inquired.
“Of course not!”
“No?”
The djinn stood behind her. “Say no,” he said with an ominous voice.
“No,” I obeyed.
The nurse looked behind her and the djinn disappeared instantly. “Are you seeing anything out of the ordinary at the moment?”
“No, why would I? I’m not crazy,”
“At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were…” Dean sighed. He was sitting by my side, in bed, and was connecting his phone to the charger. “I am a little crazy too, you know?”
“Oh, yeah?” I trembled.
“Yeah,” he muttered and finally let go off his phone. He turned to look at me for a second before cuddling me. I was the small spoon, he was shirtless. “I’m crazy about you.”
“Smooth,” I replied sheepishly. I could feel the ghost of his arms around me… Ghost, because I couldn’t really feel him. He was hot, yet cold as if air was blowing over my skin.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked.
“I am.”
I wasn’t. I’m not okay.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered and pecked my shoulder. Again, I felt it but not quite.
“Dean?”
“Huh?” I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what would happen after I said what I wnated to say.
“I feel like I’m still inside the djinn’s daydream,” I confessed.
Dean sat up and fixed a lose strand of hair that was falling over my eyes.
“You’re not inside a djinn’s daydream…” He said, calmly.
“How can you tell?” I asked, still not opening my eyes.
“Because djinns don’t exist, that’s why,” he said.
I finally opened my eyes. Black locks and blue eyes were all I could see for a moment.
“Djinns are mythological, and that is all…” Sherlock continued. I could hear his voice turning from Dean’s to his own. “I understand that maybe the toxins from the flowers could affect your perception of life, but there is nothing to fear. The effects will pass and you’ll be good as new.”
“I don’t feel good as new.”
“Clearly,” he grunted.
Noticing my state, he decided to go a little further from his usual behaviour. He pressed his head to my arm… I was still laying on my side, as if I was still being the small spoon.
“I will be here, by your side, as long as you let me.”
My heart fluttered, but not in love but rather in pain.
“I can’t control that.”
“The pills are having a positive effect on her now, we can get her to be conscious for a bit longer than before…” I heard a voice coming from the hall.
“What is that?” I asked. Sherlock tilted his head.
“What?” He furrowed, “I don’t hear anything.”
“Well, I do.”
I got up from bed and opened the door. At the other side of it was a hospital hall rather than Sherlock’s. All white, with blinding white lights. The nurse was talking to what I assumed was a doctor.
I felt like I would faint again.
Sherlock got up as well and dragged me back to the bed, closing the door behind us.
“You know what could help?” He smirked. “I know… Because I know you.”
He got me back in bed, facing up to the ceiling. I was about to talk, when I felt him pulling down my pijama shorts. A sigh left my lips, as I felt his tongue rubbing my clit in circles. I closed my eyes, filled with pleasure, and tried to keep it quiet so neither Mrs Hudson nor Watson could hear us.
“Come here,” I begged after a while.
I opened my eyes and saw Dean crawling up to my face. His tattoo was covered in sweat and his hair was ruffled.
“You thought I would just leave it there, sweetheart?” He flirted and, without a warning, he thrust inside me. “You feel good today… Tight, and so wet for me…”
I moaned, getting lost in his green eyes. I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn’t.
I didn’t even feel his weight over me.
I blinked.
TARDIS.
I blinked again.
Dean was looking at me, dumbfounded as he made love to me.
I shook my head and closed my eyes again, letting my body fall back into the pillows as I succumbed to the pleasure he… they were giving me. I called both of their names in between whispers until I climaxed.
I sighed and opened my eyes.
I was in my room. Darkness surrounded me. I was alone, and my fingers were still between my legs.
I wiped them quickly with the bed sheets and took my phone to googled Dean Winchester’s name, only to find out that he was not being looked at by the US government, but rather a fictional character. Not only that, but I saw pictures of him in the most intimate moments… Moments I could recall from living them with him.
I clicked on one of his pictures.
Jensen Ackles… Married.
I clicked on Sam’s.
Married.
I clicked on Castiel’s.
Married.
They were all married. Click by click I undercovered the lie I was living in.
“But what about Sher?” I thought to myself.
I googled him. Fictional character, based on the books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
There he was, my Sherlock, next to others who had also played him.
“I thought I was in a hospital,” I whispered.
“Maybe it’s just your unconscious mind asking to be treated by a professional.” Castiel’s voice spoke.
“Maybe it’s because that is where you’re going,” Sam gestured to the side of my bed. A bottle of vodka laid there empty, next to empty sets of aspirins.
“Is there an end to this?” I asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Jim Moriarty spoke from the darkness. “But aren’t you having fun?”
“What if I die?” I insisted.
“You won’t,” Sherlock said, “you still got enough energy to call an ambulance for yourself.”
“Please do,” Watson begged softly.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the number.
“I need an ambulance…”
“We’ll see you on the other side, sweetheart.” Dean smiled with a glimpse of sadness.
“I love you, guys.”
Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought you were moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy… Maybe it was loneliness… Or maybe I was just a fangirl… Interrupted.
Hi! I love your writing! Can you do a Dean x Reader where he finds fan art and fanfiction written by fans of the Supernatural books, and they all are of Dean and the Reader as a couple? (they both like each other but won’t say anything) Thanks!
Hi! Sorry for the wait. Just FYI it almost gets smutty but ends just before it does!
Your alarm screeched at 8am, waking you up way too abruptly for your liking for yet another morning in a row. A new day to sit in the bunker and research or if you’re lucky, maybe get out on a hunt. It wasn’t the most exciting period of time in your life right now, the cases were running dry and when you didn’t have anything to kill you had your head in the books looking for a way to open up a rift to get back Jack and Mary from the other world.
You threw on a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt, made your way to the kitchen with partially closed eyes trying to stay resting for just a few seconds more.
“Morning” You were greeted cheerily by Sam who was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop. You grunted in return. Shortly after, Dean appeared in the exact same manner as you, with the exact same grunt to Sam’s greeting. Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes at the both of you leaning against the counter side by side, both grasping your mugs of coffee.
For a while Sam had started to tease the two of you. Since you moved into the bunker about a year ago, you and Dean had always had this fun flirty back-and-forth thing going on. More recently, while you had been working closer together you had started to develop real feelings for him, not that you would ever let him know. Sam has picked up on this and hasn’t stopped poking fun at you for it.
“Anything interested lined up for today?” You asked Sam.
“No not so far but hang on let me just check this email I just got from Charlie, might be something.” He replied. He looked at his computer, clicked the email and started laughing. When Dean asked what was funny, Sam just awkwardly cleared his throat and said nothing. He closed the computer after declaring there was no cases and got up to head to his room. You also left to go get ready while Dean decided to hang back and read the ever so amusing email sent from Charlie. Dean opened the computer and was greeted by an illustration of what appeared to be him and you kissing on the hood of the impala.
“What the hell” Dean grumbled to himself as he went in further to their email chain, and in between cases and casual catch up there was tonnes of these drawings. He clicked one of the links and ended up on a fan page dedicated to the two of you, fans wishing you’d get together
“What is this?” Dean asked, scrolling down. He stumbled across fan fiction, fan art, fan theories, the lot.
“SAM!” He yelled for his brother who came charging in expecting trouble. He rolled his eyes when he realised he’d rushed in for no reason as there was no danger, then saw Dean’s annoyed expression at his laptop and realised what he was yelling about.
“Y/n watched Dean cleaning his gun, wondering to herself how did he make a simple task get her so hot and bothered..” Dean read the fan fiction out to Sam.
“What is this!? What do you and Charlie get up to in your spare time?”
“Dude we didn’t write it.”
“Well who did?” Dean exclaimed.
“Basically fans of the books think you and y/n have feelings for each other, and that you’d make a good couple.” Sam explained.
Dean took a minute to let the information sink in, he sat down at the table and paused for a moment.
“Me and y/n?”
“Yes, it’s so obvious.” Sam scoffed. Dean didn’t reply to his brother, he just sat and thought. Sam left the room after Dean hit radio silence and he could go back to getting dressed for the day.
“Me and y/n” Dean whispered aloud to himself. He let his mind wander into what it would be like being with you. Waking up to you in the morning, going to sleep with you beside him at night. His thoughts got rude as his mind ran with the idea of you being together, and the imagery that his conscious was conjuring up became very x rated very quickly, inspired by the smutty fan art he’d just seen.
You walked into the room, and saw a red faced Dean who hurriedly rearranged his robe to cover himself up after his thoughts about you had given him an erection.
“You OK, Dean?” You asked. He awkwardly shuffled in the seat and smacked the laptop shut, and nodded his head unconvincingly.
“No jobs today so I was going to go to the store and get some food in. All we have left is your old half eaten burger and an old onion.. I don’t know how a vegetable ever even got in here” you joked.
“Ha! Ha.. that’s funny” Dean had a childlike smile painted on his face when he got up without breaking eye contact, and dashed out of the room while wrapping his robe across his body. As soon as he left you went to the computer, ready to make fun of him for whatever kind of cartoon porn he had just been caught out watching this time. You had came across that awkward blushing Dean too many times for your liking before, and it was always the anime that was the cause.
When you opened the screen and saw the imagery of illustrated versions of you and Dean having sex, you were taken by surprise. You left the kitchen and went down the hall towards Dean’s room, as you were about to knock you heard quiet groans from his room. Was he masturbating to you? To what he had just read and seen? Your feelings for Dean had been getting stronger everyday, and just being stood here outside his door listening to him pleasure himself was the peak, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. You opened his door, and saw him sat on the bed with his eyes closed and his dick in his hand. When he saw you come in he jumped up and started rambling to try and come up with some words that would fix the embarrassing situation he was in.
“Don’t say anything” You shushed him, shut the door behind you and started unbuttoning your shirt as you walked towards him.
Summary:With the newlywed hunting humans caught, you and Dean Winchester need to address the drunken vows that neither of you can remember. A/N: It’s taken a hoe (me, I’m the hoe) literally four years, BUT HERE IT IS
You traced the pink, puckered scar that dragged down your abdomen and across your hip. It was an angry reminder that not every monster was actually a monster. Some were … human.
Annie and Henry had done it before. Each year for their anniversary, in fact. Eight couples in eight days in different cities around the world for twenty years. It had been nothing more than bad luck (for them) that you’d been in Vegas for your first vacation in years, that Sam had happened to talk to someone from Mount Charleston, and that you and Dean had said your drunken vows.
“Does it still hurt?” His fingers reached out to trace the scar just behind yours. It had been three weeks before Dean allowed you to even leave the room without him and twice as long before you could leave the bunker. Even now you could see the guilt and worry in his eyes.
“Not physically.”
“I liked her too,” he said after a beat of silence. Annie’s face looming over you had been worse than the cut itself. She had been so kind, and you had liked her in spite of the red flags her eager invitation had raised. Dean took your left hand in his, playing with the ring you still wore.
He hadn’t taken his off either. Neither of you had brought it up in the months following your run in with the serial killers. It had seemed unimportant then, such a trivial detail after your near death and the (sober) night together that had followed it.
– – –
“So get–“ You ignored Sam’s voice and the opening of the door, hands running down Dean’s chest before slipping beneath his shirt. “I’ll, uhm, I mean, uh, bye,” Sam stammered, neither you nor Dean paying any attention.
The sudden slam of the door, however, had caused you both to laugh. “Do you think we should apologize?” you asked, breathless as Dean moved his lips away from yours to trace down your neck. He was careful to avoid the fresh stitches, but the adrenaline had yet to wear off and you weren’t sure it would hurt anyway.
“Sam should know the risks he takes walking in on newlyweds without knocking,” Dean answered, silencing you with a kiss before you could question him again. “Sam should know the risks he takes walking in on you and me without knocking.”
– – –
“Are you ready for dinner?” Dean asked. You couldn’t help the smile that lit your face when he asked. Once you had healed enough to freely leave the bunker – and then waited another two weeks for Dean to agree that you had healed enough to freely leave the bunker – he had begun taking you to dinner every week, even during weeks when you were hunting.
More often than not, Sam would sequester himself to the library while Dean laid out a blanket on the floor or a tablecloth over the kitchen table and treated you to the latest recipe he’d discovered. During hunts, he would whatever meal you’d been craving and bring a movie to the hotel room you all shared and tell Sam to eat in his bed instead of on the couch with the two of you.
Dean had been … cautious on those nights. Holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your shoulders, but never leaning in to kiss you unless you moved toward him first. Instead he would fill the night with questions and honesty, asking you about your family, about yourself, and answering whatever questions you posed in return. The dinners never ended in either of your beds – although plenty of other nights did – and he had made a habit of reminding you that he “truly cared about you” before he left you at the door to your bedroom and disappeared inside your own.
It had taken a few weeks before you realized what was happening. Dean was dating you. Proper courting, dating you. Although the rings had gone unacknowledged, something had undeniably shifted. You no longer had two separate lives, but an unconventionally and admittedly confusingly tangled single life. Apparently, without vocal acknowledgement, you had decided together that the easiest way to untangle the mess you’d found yourselves in was to continue forward with the, again unspoken, acknowledgement that neither of you regretted it.
You and Dean had started dating, without ever saying a word to each other.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” you asked, standing and allowing the flannel with missing buttons to cover your scar again.
“A picnic.”
– – –
Sounds native to the countryside that had become home filled the air as you watched the sun set, content to lean against the man next to you and the impala behind him in comfortable silence. It had been the perfect picnic. Dean had bought your favorite sandwiches. You weren’t sure how he had slipped out of the bunker without you noticing, but he driven to town to get them. He had even stopped by the liquor store.
You felt a soft kiss in your hair before he spoke, and you shifted in his hold until you could look into his eyes. “You know how much I care about you, don’t you?” You ignored the pang of uncertainty at his words. It was always care and never love.
“As much as I care about you.” The silence that followed your words served only to intensify the ache to admit it was more than caring, but you were patient. You always had been with Dean.
Dean had been so careful with you since Annie and Henry. He had carried you around the bunker the first few days, refusing to let you stand on your own. He always hovered near you on hunts, although he knew better than to stop you from fighting. He was simultaneously softer and harder when you trained.
But the change hadn’t only been physical. You might not have noticed if it had been. Dean was always protective, and even more so after an injury, but it was more than that. He would speak slowly, as if weighing what each word meant. He was slow to respond when you reached out to him and quick to ensure it was what you truly wanted. He fought against his instinct to close himself off and forced vulnerability between you. You could see the battle in his eyes each time you asked him about himself.
– – –
You were lying in the bed of the honeymoon suite, half dressed, as Dean tended to the cut that had begun bleeding again. “Do you really not remember anything about that night in Vegas?” you asked, struggling to distract yourself from the sharp sting of his fingers.
“Nothing …” You could tell he was far more focused on his fingers than your conversation, and you struggled to think of some way to force him into saying more as pain momentarily clouded the room. “Just waking up next to a beautiful woman I somehow tricked into my bed.” His voice was quiet, distracted, as if he hadn’t realized that he said anything out loud.
His words surprised you. Enough that you didn’t feel him pressing wrapping a bandage around your middle until it caught against your fresh stitches. You hissed, and his eyes jumped to yours, suddenly focused again. “Am I hurting you?” he asked. There was nothing in the way he looked at you that hinted at the admission he’d just made. That he felt he had tricked you into his bed; that it wasn’t something you had wanted as well. Maybe he hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud.
– – –
His quiet voice tore you from your reminiscing, from your reminder that Dean had believed you’d woken up in Vegas regretting him. He spoke slowly, brow furrowed in concentration as if struggled to find the right words, or struggling to remember them. He wouldn’t meet your eyes. “After … everything that happened … waking up in Vegas … then nearly … nearly losing you … I wanted to be careful.” With this admission, something changed. Dean held you close to his side, and a hand rose to cup your cheek, his fingers playing along your temple as he continued. “There were so many questions, so many things we couldn’t talk about … but those things don’t really matter, and all that matters is that I love you and I need you to hear me say it.”
You didn’t hesitate, didn’t give him a moment to wonder if you had regretted him all those months before. “I love you too.”
“You know they’re gonna use things you love against you.“ A sentence Dean ignored the second he fell for you, but the sentence he’d remember everyday now that you were gone.
Requested: in s2e18, hollywood Babylon, sam and dean go undercover as PA’s on a haunted film set??? id love to see a dean x reader where dean is a PA and the reader is a retired hunter who knows something up but is a department supervisor for the movie?? id love the boys to come across the reader and be like ‘huh why are you familiar’ (maybe John hunted with reader’s dad when they were kids??) and like. shit goes down, the reader comes out of 'retirement’, happy ending w dean and reader ???
Warnings: spoliers s2e18, injuries, accidents, death
———————————–
You’d been assigned the department supervisor ever since the incident, getting pulled from one of the nearby sets to now supervising a different set. Your hunter instincts kicked the second you heard the story of what happened. You started to put in “over time” staying after the day was over to make sure there’d actually been a case to work on. There was nothing to be found, but you assumed it was due to you being rusty. That proved to be so when two familiar brothers showed up the following morning.
Just like you remembered, Dean was already causing trouble with the bigwigs. You decided to just watch from where you were standing, a smirk forming on your face when you saw Sam having to clean up Dean’s mess. You quickly composed yourself when they started walking your way, and the moment they passed you you cleared your throat.
“You boys belong here?” You asked in the most authoritative voice you could manage.They both stopped dead in their tracks, turning around to face you.
“Of course, we’re P… A’s? We’re new.” Sam explained making you laugh and nod.
“Sam, Dean, stop pulling my leg. I know you’re here for the case. What’d you two get caught up in over there?” You nodded behind them. They stared at you in shock, but it finally seemed to click for Dean.
“Y/N? You’re working the case here too?” Dean asked, making you shake your head.
“I retired a few years back. I couldn’t find anything that shouts case though, I figured I was a bit rusty.” You explained, before smirking. “Now I’d do what you were told before they realize you aren’t real PAs.” You laughed making Dean groan.
“The smoothies? Where are they?” Dean asked and you pointed. “Thank you.” Dean nodded before they both walked away making you shake your head.
During your break you were at the snack table, jumping when you felt someone’s hand on your shoulder. You gave him a small smile, trying to finish chewing the food in your mouth faster so you could say something, but luckily for you Sam walked up and they started talking.
“Well, I think being a PA sucks, but the food these people get? Are you kidding me?” Dean explained, starting to ramble about the food making you roll your eyes and laugh. “What’d you find out about the dead crew guy?” He asked once you finally started paying attention.
Sam started explaining everything he knew, and you couldn’t help but furrow your brows. Before you could say anything Dean walked away and shook your head. You started making small talk with Sam, trying to catch up on everything you missed over the years, and you didn’t like John, but part of you felt the need to give your condolences when he told you what had happened.
“I know who the guy was, come on.” Dean explained when he came back. Both of the boys were about to start walking away when Dean saw you still standing in place. “Aren’t you coming?” He asked, making you shake your head.
“I could lose my job. You guys go get what you need, and I’ll try to help the best I can here.” You explained making both of them nod.
“We’ll see you.” Dean winked, causing you to blush and smile softly.
The rest of the day had been going just like any other, you did your best to make sure everything was intact and even had time to watch some of the filming to make sure everything was up to par. You didn’t expect for an accident to happen right in front of your eyes, let alone have it get taped. You quickly made your way to a secluded area pulling out your phone and dialed Dean’s number.
“Hey Dean, it’s Y/N. There was just another accident. The guy’s dead, but there’s just something off about what happened. Hurry back, I have to call this in.” You started to explain when you got his voicemail. You shook your head, trying to figure out what to do once you’d sent everyone on their way home. You knew you should’ve gone too, but after you’d called Dean you figured you should wait in case they decided to come back.
The following day you’d hardly talked to the boys, but you couldn’t help but notice that Dean was getting into his “role” a little bit too much. You’d been in the middle of working when Dean pulled you off to the side, dragging both you and Sam to the sound guy to show you the feedback that was being recorded with each tape. You each took turns listening, and that’s when you heard your name get called.
“Listen, I’d love to help really, but if I lose this job, you both will probably get caught with not actually working here. I’m too rusty anyways, I wouldn’t really be much help. Just tell me what you guys find out and I’ll help if I can. Hey maybe even later we can hang out, just give me a call.” You explained, patting Dean on the shoulder before getting back to work.
They had called you that night, but it wasn’t to hang out. You hadn’t salted and burned bones longer than you’d been retired. You couldn’t help but get a bit weird when Dean handed you a shovel.
“What brought you guys to California anyway?” You asked while you all started to dig.
“It was supposed to be a vacation, but of course Sam had to find a case.” Dean explained making you nod. “What about you? Why’d you give up hunting? From what we remember, you were good at it, especially with your boyfriend. How’s he doing by the way?” Dean asked, making you freeze.
“Um, he died… on a case. I guess that’s why I stopped.” You shrugged, looking down as you continued to dig.
“Y/N sorry I didn-” Dean tried but you cut him off.
“It’s fine, really.” You shook your head giving him a small smile.
“What made you become a department supervisor anyway?” Sam asked after you were all done, trying to change the subject.
“I’ve always had a passion for it I guess.” You explained before you all finished. “It’s good to see you both still hunting, I mean someone has to right?” You asked, earning a soft smile from Dean.
The following morning there had been an accident, and you just knew that the work was no where close to being over. Luckily for the three of you everyone was getting out of there which meant no more incidents and time for you to actually figure it out. It had started with you all watching whatever had been filmed already, and Sam couldn’t help but notice how close you and Dean were. He’d kept it to himself, and you missed the look he’d given to Dean.
“Those incantations are real.” You observed out loud, everything finally clicking in your head.
“So we go pay a visit to the writer.” Dean explained and you nodded your head.
“Maybe we shouldn’t. It’s Walter, they rewrote everything, so he probably is trying to get back at the, for it.” You explained, getting up trying to look for the original script. You all read over the script, finding even more incantations than in the final script. “We need to go back to the studio. The writer, he’s working late today. If Walter is getting everyone back for ruining his script, this is the perfect time for him to do it.” You explained putting the script back on the table.
The whole night you’d spent trying to fix the mess, trying to get everything back to normal. It seemed that throwing you back into the hunting life wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. You and Dean shot the salt pellets while Sam dealt with everything. You couldn’t help but feel accomplished once you were done, and it made you miss hunting. The following morning Dean has even brought that up.
“You should come with us, it’s obvious you miss it. We have room for one more.” Dean explained, leaning against Baby, giving her a pat on the roof.
“Dean I don’t know…” You trailed shaking your head looking back at all the sets. “It’s been so long, I don’t want to slow you guys down.” You explained.
“We couldn’t have done it without you. It was great seeing you again, and… well if you don’t come I’ll probably never see you again.” Dean explained awkwardly, making you blush.
“So you’re asking me to live with you?” You smirked. “I didn’t take you as that type.” You joked, and it was Dean’s turn to blush. “I’d love to come with you.” You admitted, leaning forward to give Dean a small kiss.
Dean: “(Y/N), the FUCK have you DONE? How can you do this to me?….YOU CHOSE OUR ENEMIES?!…”
(Y/N): “Why do you even care, Dean?…”
Dean: “Because you are the only thing that i have left in this world…and you fucking backstabbed me?! Just…just go away! i can’t fucking look at you right now!”
Dean: “Seems like i only need your title now and then i’ll have everything and you got nothing…”
Seth: “Yeah i messed up but she’ll soon realize that you are nothing compared to me and guess who’ll hold her in his arms again…that’s right…ME!”
Dean: “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, Seth, because i know that she is the best thing that ever happened to me and i will never…NEVER let her go again!”
This is part 4 of Angel Eyes sorry for not posted in ages. But I found this on a flash drive from like 2017 so I edited and thought I should post it. I hope you like it.
Fic Summary: This is backstory to kind help people understand Dean and Callie’s relationship. Sam, Dean and Callie go get tattoos :P
Walking into the bathroom I bent over untying my boots. Kicking them off I stood up and met my green eyes in the mirror. Reaching up to take my hair down I stopped when there was no longer a black string around my wrist. I quickly opened the bathroom door shocking Sam he was behind it and I almost hit him.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked dropping his bags by the door and walking up to me. I was taken back when he grabbed my arms softly as if I was going to pass out.
“I lost my antipossion charm.” I say biting my lip.
“You what?” Dean and Sam asked, clearly mad.
“I didn’t mean to. It was on my wrist and I guess it must have broke.”
“Great, what are we going to do now? I doubt Booby just has another one laying around.” Dean asked, throwing up his arm and walking away from me.
“Even if he did, who says she wont lose it again.” Sam says sitting on the bed.
“I’m right here, ya know. Maybe it’s in the hotel room.”
“We just got here. I doubt you lost it in the past five minutes.” Sam said.
“Well it’s not like I can just tattoo the thing to me.” I said throwing up my arms and moving to the door shutting it, probably a little too rough., but I hate being treated like I’m five.
“Wait a minute.” Dean says, making me turn to face him.
“Why not get it tattooed. It would get rid of having to keep up with it. And plus its one sure way, no demon would ever get into us ever again.”
“That’s not a bad idea.” I say agreeing. “I always wanted to get a tattoo anyways.” I say shrugging.
“And what if I don’t.” Sam says standing up.
“Oh come on Sammy it’s common sense, to get one.” Dean says lifting his hands.
“Yeah, it’s the smart thing to do.” I say smiling, getting butterflies about the thought of getting tattooed.
“Oh and what are we meant to tell the person that does it?” Sam asks.
“The truth. It looks like some tribal tattoo that people walk around with all the time. The worse case they think we are weirdos but there still going to do it.” I say sitting down beside Dean on the bed.
“Callie is right, money is money. They don’t care as long as they get paid.”
“What if they only take cash?”
Sighing I throw my head back hitting Dean’s shoulder.
“Then we go to the bar, play a little pool and go back. With cash. Why are you so against getting a tattoo?” I ask
“Yeah, Sammy it can be on your ass for all I care.” Dean says laying back on the bed’s headboard making me fall, sence I was still leaning on him.
Glaring up at him I sat back up, only getting a small laugh out of him.
“How do we even know it will work?”
Sighing again I laid back on Dean’s legs reaching back to grab my phone off the nightstand. Flipping it open I pressed 3 it calling Bobby.
“Callie, it’s 1AM what the hell do you want?” Bobby answered sound sleepy and mad.
“Sorry Bobby. I didn’t realize it was so late but I have a important question.”
“About what?” He said trying to be helpful but not hiding his anger.
“The charms you gave us. If we tattoo the symbol to ourselves will that work the same as wearing them?”
“What kind of idjit are you? Of course it will work. Next time you decide to bother me while I’m sleeping make sure it’s a damn good question.”
“Sorry Bobby, just wanted to make sure.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“I’ll let you go back to sleep. Good night Bobby. Sweet Dreams.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.” He says hanging up.
“He is mean when he is sleepy.” I say looking up at Dean as I close my phone.
“What did he say?” Sam asked.
“Looks like your getting inked up, buttercup.” I say smiling at him.
Sighing, he clenched his jaw.
“I’ll be in the car. Hurry up.” He says walking out to the car grabbing his jacket as he went.
“I think he needs a nap. He is a little grumpy.” I say looking back up at Dean.
“I think you’re right. Better not keep him waiting.” He says smiling, clearly enjoying this as much as me.
Sitting up I walk to the bathroom grabbing my shoes and sitting on the tub to put them back on.
“Where do you think I should get it?” Dean asked leaning against the door frame to the bathroom.
Looking up at the ceiling I bit my lip, thinking of where a tattoo would look good on Dean. The first thing was anywhere. Shaking away that thought. I thought of where I like tattoos on guys.
“Hmm… Shoulder, shoulder blade, or chest.” I say tying my boot and pulling on the other one.
“What about you. Where are you going to get it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t want it super viable. Like I don’t want to have to worry about people being like what’s that?”
“I think you should get it on your ribs.” Dean says as I finish tying the other boot.
“Why the ribs. That’s the worse place to get a tattoo.” I say standing up and walking out of the bathroom, feeling Dean follow me.
“Well one because it’s hot and two I know you can take the pain.” He says making blood rush to my cheeks.
“Is that so?” I ask turning to face him, a smirk finding my lips.
I almost smack myself for how flirty that sounds but it’s hard not to when you have Dean in front of you.
“Yeah. You’re kinda a badass.” He says smirking and winking at me.
I laugh softly, him joining me. Rolling my eyes I shake my head a little.
“Maybe.” I say walking to the door, stepping out into a soft sprinkle.
“Rain!” I say smiling up at the sky loving the cool drops on my heated cheeks.
“What was about not being five?” Dean asked behind me and pinched my side, making me jerk a little.
“Shut up.” I say sticking my tongue out at him, earning a laugh.
I jump when Baby’s horn goes off. Looking at Dean’s price postion I see Sam sitting in the front seat looking like a parent who just cought his child having sex.
“Again, I repeat, grumpy.” I say looking back at Dean and stepping off the curb to get into the car.
“Why not bug him a little more.” Dean says opening the driver door for me.
Taking the hint I get in and move to the middle, Sam clenching his jaw making me laugh.
“Oh don’t be so grumpy. It’s only a little seat sharing.” I say poking his hard jaw.
“Just can we get this over with?”
“Damn Sam, Bobby is not the only one that’s mean when he is tired.” Dean says starting the car backing out.
“I just want to get this done so I can take a shower and get a few hours in before I have to get up in the morning.”
“Hey, you’re the one who wants to run before dawn.” I say shrugging.
One look from Sam is enough to make me shut up and hold up my hands as a surender. I lean into Dean to get away from Sam before he bursts a blood vessel. Feeling bad for now getting up front, for wanting to bug him more.
Maybe feeling the same or seeing Sam’s face. Dean lays his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, giving Sam as much space as he can get with all of us up front. Leaning into Dean’s side I close my eyes and just listen to the rain picking up and hitting the Impala’s roof. Moving his arm down, I shift slightly laying my head on Dean’s shoulder, feeling completely relaxed. No not relaxed. At home.
When Dean’s neck starts vibrating with him humming I let myself enjoy it till the point of my eyes don’t want to stay open anymore.
I softly smack Dean’s chest, making him stop.
“What was that for?” He asks sounding shocked.
“You’re making me fall asleep.” I say a yawn leaving my mouth, making a laugh leave Dean’s.
“Dean, maybe we should go back to the motel. Let Callie sleep.”
“Oh your not getting out of this that easy, buttercup.” I say sitting up and looking at him, making me slightly dizzy but I ignore it, it fading quickly.
“Yeah, because we are here.” Dean says pulling into the parking lot of a tattoo and piercing shop.
Getting out of the car, I quickly follow Dean to escape the picking up rain.
“Welcome. What can I do for you?” Asks the tattooed bearded main at the front desk.
“Hi, we’re looking to get a tattoo. We heard this was the place to come.” Dean says, making the man laugh.
“Well that’ll be right. I’m Chet, nice to meet you.” Chet says holding out his hand to Dean.
“Dean.” He says taking it.
“And you Miss?” He asks looking down at me.
“Callie.” I say waving and smiling.
“And the tall fella?” He asks looking over me at Sam.
“Oh that sour thing is my little brother Sammy. Sammy come say hi.” Dean says waving him over.
“It’s Sam.” He says holding his hand out to Chet.
“Well, nice to meet you folks. So like I said before, what can I do for you?”
“We all three want this.” Sam says handing Chet a piece of paper with the simbel roughly graw on it.
“You draw this yourself?” Chet asks, taking the picture and looking down at it stroking his beard.
“Yeah, I did. Look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up I would really like to get some sleep.” Sam says, looking tired.
“Well just slow down there a minute.” Chet says not even the least bit surprised with Sam’s mood.
“How big are you three talking? Because if you want something huge It’s going to be more than one trip. Plus you have how are you going to pay and where you want it at.”
“No bigger than three inches.” I say getting an agreement from both the boys.
“Altight. That will be 75 each. That’s without color.”
“You take credit?” Dean asks.
“Yes, sir we do.”
“Well, let’s do this.” Dean says, pulling out his wallet and handing him his card.
I’m a little surprised when he doesn’t look at it or ask for ID.
“Alright, well let me go draw this up and you three can talk about where you want it and who goes first.” Chet says taking the picture Sam drew and walking in the back.
“Sam you can go first.” I say sitting on one of the black leather couches, Dean sitting beside me.
“Why do I go first?” Sam asks sitting in a plastic chair across from us.
“Because you won’t have to wait you can go out and sleep in the car while we get ours done.” I say like it’s obvious.
“Okay sure, whatever.”
“Man he really is tired.” Dean says laying his arm on the back of the couch.
“Yeah, well it will be over soon and we will never have to worry about it again.” I say smiling up at Dean, because I would probably just get a glare from Sam.
On the note I could feel his death glaze burn a hole in my head.
“So did you decide where you are going to get yours?” I ask, whoever wants to answer.
“I’m working on it.” Dean says winking at me, making me roll my eyes.
“What about you Clauda?” Sam asks
“Still thinking.” I say biting my trying to think of where would be the best place.
All three of us fall into a comfortable silence waiting on Chet. He returns around thirty minutes later.
“Alright I got everything all set up. So who is going first.”
Both me and Dean pont to Sam.
“Alright, son, follow me back.” Chet says holding the beads hanging over the door out of Sam’s way.
“Be nice!” I say getting a Yeah, Yeah and a wave from him.
Chet laughs and walks thru the door with Sam in front of him.
“So, you really don’t know where you are getting yours?” Dean asks looking down at me.
“No, everywhere I think don’t seem right.” I say biting my lip.
“I have an idea.” Dean says.
“Oh gosh.” I say covering my face, slightly worried.
“Well at least hear me out first.”
“Okay fine, fine. What is your idea?” I ask, looking up at Dean to meet bright green eyes.
“You pick for me and I pick for you.” He says shrugging.
“That way if we can get an outsider’s thoughts on it.”
Smiling, I nod my head.
“You know I really like that.” I say, saying exactly how I felt.
“See and you didn’t trust me.”
“Oh, I trust you. I trust you get me into trouble by putting it on my forehead.”
Laughing Dean ran his hand down his face.
“I was thinking more your cheek but if that’s what you want to go with, its your face darlin’.” He says pulling me closer to him and tickling me softly.
Giggling I push his hands away, just as Chet and Sam walk out.
“Well that was fast.” Dean says, sounding halfway disappointed.
“Yeah, I’ll be out in the car.” Sam says doing just that.
“Alright who’s next.”
“Me!” I say standing up and walking over to Chet.
“You gonna bring your boyfriend with you?” Chet asks nodding at Dean.
Blushing at the boyfriend comment, I ignore it and turn to face Dean feeling dumb since he is picking the spot for the tattoo.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes!” I say running to him and grabbing his forearm just to pull him up from his seat.
I hear Chet laugh behind us making me wonder exactly what life he thinks we have.
Following him back into the other room, Dean laces his fingers with mine making me smile up at him. He quickly returns it making my stomach do flips.
“Room three.” Chet gestures to the last door.
Dean quickly takes the lead pulling me behind him. When we step into the room I can help the rush I get when I see the chair with the gun beside it.
“You okay?” Dean asks looking down at me.
“Yeah, why?” I ask, confused as why he would ask that.
LIfting our joined hands he lets go to show me how my hand is shaking.
“Oh. They’re the good kind. Here feel my heart.” I say taking his hand and placing it to my chest before I can think.
Realizing what I did I feel myself blush a little but I keep his hand there. He is my “boyfriend” after all.
Smiling Dean moves his hand up to my neck, pulling me to him to kiss my forehead.
“One hell of an adrenaline rush huh?” Dean asks moving so Chet can get to his spot beside the chair.
“So do we know where we want it?” Chst asks when he sets down.
“He does.” I say pointing to Dean and moving back a little.
“Oh, alright what’ll it be son?” He asks looking up at Dean.
“She wants it on her rib. Here.” Dean says placing his hand on my right side just under my bra strap.
“And you’re okay with that?” Chet asks looking at me, making eye contact. I guess to see if I’m lying.
“Yes, it’s perfect.” I say telling the truth.
Feeling all at once how I could not picture it anywhere else.
“Alright well take a seat, I’ll fix the chair once you’re on it. Dean there is a stool in the hall if you want to grab it so you have somewhere to sit.”
“Alright.” He says walking out of the room quickly returning since the stool was just outside the door.
“Is this your first tattoo?” Chet asked, fixing the chair so he could reach my rib easily.
“Yep.” I say popping the P getting comfortable on my left side.
“Well let me tell you it’s going to hurt a lot.”
“She can take it.” Dean says sitting on the stool my face becoming even with his belly.
“Well just let me know if you need to take a break. Don’t worry though I got 20 years under my belt. Or should I say gun. You’re in good hands.”
“Thanks Chet.” I say smiling at him and laying my head on my left arm, my other one laying in front of me.
“Lift your shirt for me please.” Chet says.
“I got it.“ Dean says before I can even move. Pulling my shirt up I feel as if it’s in slow motion but maybe that’s just because I’m suddenly very aware of how many scars I have on my stomach and hips.
I realize that it’s not Dean seeing them, it’s Chet. I can hear the questions now. But they never come. Instead I feel something like paper being stuck to my sink.
"So you from around here?” Chet asked, one of us.
“No. Road trip. She got it in her head that we all should get tattoos.”
“Hey! It’s for a good reason.” I say sticking my tongue out at Dean even though he is not eye level with me. Well he is never eye level with me.
“About that if you don’t mind me asking. Your brother said something about it being in the family. He didn’t make much since. He was not in a chatty mood.
"Yeah, it’s been in his family for years. All the way back to the tribes. The people believed that it could keep you from getting posed.” I say smiling a “what the hell smile”.
“Oh thats a new one.”
“Yeah, but like I said she got it in her head. So it had to be done. But at the end of the day it’s a badass tattoo.”
“That it is.” Chet said starting up the gun making a buzz fill the room.
“Ready?” He asked from behind me.
“Ready.” I say as Dean seems to shrink down to my level. Him pulling the lever on the bottom of the stool. He still has to bend down a little to be eye to eye with me but that’s better than nothing.
When the needle of the gun first touched my skin it felt like I was being punched so hard it made my ribs brake. Groning I clenched my jaw and grabbed onto the nearest thing which happened to be Dean’s forearm.
“Are you okay?” Chet asked, pulling the gun from me.
“Yes” I say closing my eyes and groaning again.
“Man that hurts worse than getting sticked up.” I say taking a deep breath thru my nose and blowing it out of my mouth.
“Should I keep going?”
“Yeah, keep going.” I say moving my hand to Dean’s.
Feeling the pain again I bit my lip so I didn’t make a noise. It still hurts but this time I knew what to expect. It felt like someone was digging a white hot nail down my side.
After a minute it slowly turned into a dull pain as my skin in that spot went numb.
“Dean is it?”
“Yeah.” Dean says pushing my raven hair off my face.
“You got a keeper. Never have I ever seen a first timer get a tattoo on their ribs and be this quiet or still.”
“Yeah, she is good at that.”
Laughing I moved my right arm over my head and looked down as best as I could watching Chet wipe away ink from my side.
Smiling at the butterflies again I laid my arm back down. Dean laying his hand on the back of mine lacing his fingers through mine.
“That scar on her hip. I walked in on her sewing it up herself.” Dean said, sounding almost like he was bragging.
“Yeah and you should have heard the ear full I go for it.” I say, smiling softly, my eyes closed.
It seemed to help with the pain, the less I talked. So that’s what I didn’t do. I lay there listening to Dean and Chet talk about me and what happened so I had to get sewn up. Dean came up with the lie that I was a nurse in afghanistan. That’s where we met, that’s where the scar he was talking about came from. If only it was that noble. When really it came from breaking up a bar fight between Dean and some dude hitting on me very, very hard. To the point I almost stabbed him. Dean did walk in on me sowing up and I did get an ear full. But it was not just him telling me how I should not have tried to break up the fight. Or sow myself up.
It had a mix of the crystal green his eyes get when he is hurting. It didn’t take two glances to see that he was mad at himself more than me. He thought it was his fault.
Always dose.
“Callie you alright?” Dean asks, making me open my eyes and look up at him, a yawn leaving my mouth.
“Well I guess that answers my question.” Chet said laughing.
“What?”
“I thought you passed out of something. I told him you were fine but he wanted to be sure.”
“No, yeah, I’m okay. Just listening to you talk. Your voice is relaxing.” I say smiling up at him, making him scratch the back of his head telling me I embarrassed him which didn’t happen often.
“Well you’re halfway done. So finish your nap.” Dean says, trying to laugh it off.
“Thanks.” I say smiling and closing my eyes.
Lucky me Chet started another conversation with Dean about what all he has hunted.
He went on about telling him something about a bear which I think was one of the werewolves we have killed or maybe a windigo.
“Alright, you are done.” Chet said, turning off everything.
“Can I see?” I ask sitting up a little. An ache in my side.
“Let me clean you up first.”
Nodding I layed back on the chair and poked Dean’s chest making him look down at me.
with a metal shriek the door to the bunker closed behind you. There was still no word on Dean, he had just disappeared and the youngest Winchester wouldn’t tell you what was going on.
you threw your duffle on the table collapsing into one of the old chairs and hearing the wood creak. you threw your head back letting out a sigh when you heard another wooden creak,
it wasn’t your chair and Sam was still out searching.
“Hello? is anyone there? Cas?”
there was no response, only the calm silence of the room.
you got up from your place in the chair and walked into the library, the direction the creak had come from. padding in as silently as you could you saw a tall figure in a suit and an old style news boys cap standing with his back facing you.
you knew that figure anywhere, you’d shared the road, a room, and a life with him for the better part of two years.
“Dean?”
he turned around and you were met with the man himself, he was holding a book open in his hand but placed it on the table as soon as his eyes met yours.
you ran toward him wrapping your arms around his neck and putting your lips to his. you immediately pulled away though.
“Where the hell have you been? Sam and I have been searching for you for weeks! We didn’t know if you were alive or dead or-”
he immediately placed his hands on your shoulders and gave you a smirk
“don’t you worry Y/N, I’m fine, everything’s going to be fine”
his grip on your shoulders tightened and his eyes seemed to get brighter as they stared into yours.
this wasn’t Dean.
“You know, good old Dean fought so hard to make sure I didn’t know where to find you, but guess what sweetheart? He didn’t fight hard enough”
you tried to step out from his grasp but he wouldn’t let you, he was holding on too tight.
“Who are you?”
you spit out the words inches from his face where he was holding you.
“Oh sweetheart, you met me years ago. Well not this version of me exactly but still. I’ll give you a hint, I destroyed my brother Lucifer with my sword, which you’re looking at right now.”
you got a flashback to 10 years ago when you’d first met the boys, at apocalypse time.
“No, that’ s impossible, Michael’s in the cage or dead or-”
his right hand loosened its grip on your shoulder and reached instead for the back of your neck, he yanked it back hard and leaned down whispering in your ear
“well I’m not the Michael you know, and I’m definitely not the Dean you know, but if you want both you and him to get out of this alive, you’ll do what I say.”
you tried to yank out of his hand but instead he pushed your face to his where your lips connected, you tried to fight but his tongue found its way into your mouth. he pulled away staring right into your eyes
you inserted the syringe of dead man’s blood into the last vamps neck as you heard a door open somewhere in the house.
you drew your gun pointing it toward the only door to the room when three men came in, one of them looking especially familiar.
“Y/N?’
you put your gun down putting it in the back of your jeans
“yeah umm, I’m sorry I forgot your name”
he smirked, “It’s dean, Dean Winchester.”
“Yeah, you’re the guy from the bar the other night.”
“and you’re the girl from the bar. you’re a hunter?’
you started moving some of the vamps bodies out of the way
“Yeah, I got word of a nest out here so I figured I’d check it out. I met you in the bar the first night I got to town. oh and don’t worry I handled it, I don’t need your guys’s help.”
you continued to take care of the nest as Sam and Cas pulled Dean aside.
“Dude, she forgot your name, Aren’t you the one who usually does that?”
Dean helped Bobby track down Sam, as you tried to get caught up on what you had missed over the months you were down below. Finally, Dean and Bobby had found him and had made the decision to leave bright and early in the morning. “Y/N.” Bobby caught your attention and you turned to look at him. “Get some rest tonight, kid. Okay?”
“I will, Bobby. See you in the morning.” With a sad smirk he went to his room and left you and Dean in the living room.
“You okay?”
You nodded. “Are you?”
“I don’t know. Physically, I’m great. But all I can think about is what happened, how we got back, and what Sam did to get us here.”
“I know,” you knew what he was going through all too well. “Just try not to kill him before we get to say ‘Hi.’”
He nodded, looking down at his feet. “I don’t think we should tell Sammy that we remember.”
“Of course not,” you agreed. “He doesn’t need to know what went on down there, Dean. He doesn’t need to live with knowing what hell is like and he definitely doesn’t need the mental image of us in his head.”
“Y/N-”
“Stop,” you raised a hand. “You have nothing to apologize for, Dean. We’ve been through this how many times while we were down there? I asked to be with you. I asked you to do what you did, and I don’t regret it. I never will. So don’t apologize.”
He nodded to himself before standing up and heading towards the stairs. “Let’s get some shut eye before the drive tomorrow.”
******
The three of you walked the halls of the run down motel until you got to the end of the hall. Dean knocked and was shocked to be greeted by a pantless woman. “Well…where is it?”
“What?”
“The pizza?”
“Sorry, I think we have the wrong room.” Just as Dean finished speaking, Sam walked into the room and looked hard at you and Dean. After excusing the woman out of the room, you, Dean, and Bobby walked in.
Just like you predicted, Sam tried to get the jump on Dean before Bobby could step in. “It’s him, Sam. It’s really him. I checked.”
After hugging his brother for a long time, Sam let him go and pulled you in for a bear hug. “You guys are both back? How?”
“You tell us, bone head. What did you do,” you questioned him?”
“Me? I didn’t do anything.”
“Don’t give me that,” Dean growled.
“It’s true! I tried everything. I tried spells, summonings, I tried to sell my soul but nothing worked. No demon would take it.”
“If you didn’t get us out….then what did?” The guys all looked at you with no ideas between them.
Based on a prompt I saw on Pinterest. Based between season 3 and 4.
Intense pain.
That was the last thing you registered as your life was taken from you by the demons who jumped you. It was also the first thing you registered as you woke up. You were surrounded by uncomfortable fiery heat that made your skin burn slowly. You were in hell, you knew that much; but you didn’t know why.
You looked at the demon that walked into the room. You got ready to fight but realized you were chains against the stone wall. “What do you want you soulless bitch?”
“Such a mouth on you,” they sneered. “I like it.”
“Why am I here? I lived a good life. I protected the innocent, I don’t deserve to be here.”
“I thought you and Sammy were supposed to be the smart ones.” You weren’t following. “You’re not being punished. You’re the punishment.” Your heart sank. “Killing you and dragging you down here was very challenging. We had to pull a lot of strings and distract a lot of reapers and spirit guides. But when I bring Dean in here,” the demon took a long happy and relaxed breath. “Oh, I’m getting goosebumps just thinking about it.”
“Leave him out of this.” It’s only been four weeks since his death, but you couldn’t imagine what they’d put him through in that time. Now they’d stooped so low as to kill you to exact revenge on him.
“It’s too late for that sweet Y/N.” She looked over her shoulder and yelled, “Bring him in.”
Escorted by two other black eyed meat suits, Dean walked tensely into the room. The second his eyes landed on you his eyes snapped back to the demon. “You bitch, you’ve gone too far. I’ve had enough of your damn tricks.”
“Not a trick, Dean-O. Go ahead, look at her face and tell me if you see a demon in disguise.”
Frantically and nervously he looked back to you. When he realized your face was indeed your face he neared you and raised a shaking hand to your cheek. “Y/N?” His voice broke, “What are you doing here?”
“We ran out of ice cream,” you sadly smiled. He knew you always had to have ice cream wherever you were. “I went to the store and they jumped me. About 8 of them and….now I’m here.”
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
“But she is, Dean. And you know what that means.”
“Shove it. I’m not doing anything. Not to Y/N.”
“What’s he talking about, Dean?”
The demon grinned. “Why don’t I give you a little time to talk things over. You can tell her everything you’ve been up to.” As soon as the door shut Dean tried to get your cuffs off with no results.
“You shouldn’t be here, Y/N. This is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”
“Dean.” You stopped him. “Stop and look at me. Just let me look at you.” Reluctantly he listened. “I missed you so much.”
“You’re all I think about down here, Baby. How long has it been? You haven’t aged a day.”
Concern for him hit you harder. “Dean. It’s only been a month.”
“What? Just a month?”
“How long has it been down here?” You weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer.
“Ten years. That’s how long it’s been down here. They have me doing awful things, Y/N. You need to hear it from me before they tell you.”
“Like what?”
“They have me torturing souls. I- I didn’t want to. But it was me or them, Y/N and the things they were doing to me were 10 times worse than what I did to them. It’s the only way,” he was speaking frantically.
“Dean,” you snapped him out of it. You were cut off by the door opening and the demon walking back in. “Are you ready Dean?”
“Ready for what?”
“To work on your little girlfriend.” The henchman wheeled in a cart of knife and instruments of pain.
“Go to hell.”
“I’m already there, Baby. Here are your options, Dean. You do your turkey carving on your little girlfriend here, or I’ll send you pack to the pit and I’ll send her to our best torturer. Well, 2nd best now.”
“I’m not touch-”
“He will do it,” you spoke for him.
“Y/N, no.”
“Listen to me. I’m not letting you go back there. And I’d rather spend eternity in hell with you in pain, then not seeing you at all. This is the best thing for both of us, Dean. Please. I can take it.”
******
You woke up in a small dark box, weak and struggling to breath. You attempted to break your way out of the box but were too tired to bust it open. Just as the will left your body the sunlight broke through and Dean’s face greeted you from the other side. “Y/N? Are you ok? I heard you trying to get out.”
“Dean? Wh-what is this?” He pulled you out of the hole and you saw the crosses that marked what you assumed were your graves. “Are we-”
“Alive. Yeah, I think so. We have to find Sammy. If he did something dumb, I’ll kill him.” You leaned on him for support as you walked your way to civilization.”
******
Bobby watched you from across the room. You sat looking out the window with a blanket wrapped around your body as tight as possible. Your blank stare had been aimed out of the window for hours. “What happened down there, Dean?”
“Bobby…,” he trailed. His voice shook and tears pricked his eyes as he looked at you and looked at his feet. “They made me do things to her. It was decades. They made me to things; things that I worried would happen to her when I was alive. They made me do those things to her down there. Y/N insisted I be the one to do it, so we could at least be in hell together. She kept saying she was alright, that she could take it, Bobby. But every time a drop of blood spilled from her a part of my soul died. I don’t know how she can look at me after everything I did. I don’t know how after every session she still managed to smile and tell me she loved me, but she did. And I’m so scared that now that we are back she’s going to look at me and realize I’m the monster that ruined her down there.”
Bobby’s heart broke looking at you and hearing what had happened to you both in those four months on Earth. “Son,” he struggled to find the word. “You two are back now, and that’s what matters. We’re going to find Sam, and we are going to get to the bottom of this.”
“Tell me you won’t give up…” He whispered. “Ever. I don’t care if something happens to me and I die- or if you think I’m mad at you, you can’t give up, regardless. I could never stay made at you and you know I’d want you to live because-” He hesitated and swallowed hard.
“Because?” She asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Her heartbeat speeding up in her chest as she waited for him to continue.
“You’re the love of my life, Aria.” He couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face. It was the first time hearing himself say it out loud and it made him nervous. Hell, it made Ilaria nervous. He smoothed over his chin and then brought his hand up to his forehead, waiting eagerly for a response.
“Dean…” She cooed, her heart fluttering. She thought about a response but it was a lot to take in, so she kept him waiting a little longer. Just say you love him too, she thought to herself. Her lips wouldn’t budge.
“Come on, Aria. Say something…” He spoke again, letting out a nervous chuckle, anxiously fiddling with his ring.
“I um-I don’t know how to top that…” She chuckled, feeling just as nervous as him, tilting her head and staring into his tired emerald eyes. “You love me?”
“I do- I’m sorry I just blurted it out like that. It’s alright if you need time to-“ He froze up, distracted by Ilaria’s giggles. His insecurities amplified. “What!?” He question immediately. “Aria?”
“You’re rambling. Don’t apologize… I love you too, Dean.” She finally caved. “More than you know.”
“What a relief.” Dean smirked, relaxing into his sitting position on the edge of her bed beside her. ““Wait, you love me- like you love Sammy- or in love with me?”
Ilaria leaned closer to him as she spoke softly. “Of course I’m in love with you, Dean. You’ve been there for me through it all. Even when I foolishly let other boys break my heart. You always found a way to comfort me in my times of need. Just like today. Just like right now… You’ve alway been the one, even when I was too distracted to notice- But I could never thank you enough…”
“Seriously, you wrote about every single one of our hunts?”
“I want to remember them, so yes. And who knows? Perhaps one day, the Men of Letters will learn how the handsome Dean and the amazing Y/N solved their cases.”
Warnings: ANGST, Dean’s a tiny bit of a dick, Depression, Thoughts of Suicide, Anxiety, Panic Attack, Self- Esteem Issues, Self- Depreciation, Lots More Angst, Mentions of Torture, Minor Fluff
Summary: After being captured by a demon and tortured for a couple of weeks, you were having trouble healing from the aftermath. The physical wounds may have healed but it doesn’t mean the ones on the inside had. The ones telling you that you’re never going to be enough. That you’re better off gone.
A/N: For the haters and the ones who gave up on me. For the ones that made me feel like I wasn’t enough. For the ones who hurt me so bad that I wanted to disappear. For the ones who claimed to be my friend and proved themselves otherwise. This one is for you.
You stood in the kitchen, dipping your tea bag into your favourite mug that you had picked up from the gas n’ sip somewhere in Portland a few years ago. It was close to midnight when you last checked your phone. It was hard to tell these days since the bunker had no windows. No natural sunlight got in. You were clad in one of your favourite oversized sweaters and a pair of plaid shorts that barely covered your ass, and a pair of knee high socks. Your typical bed attire for the most part. When you were on the road it was a little different. At home, you were more comfortable.
