you were sitting on the couch with a few of the books you had to read for a hunt, your new four kittens crawling all over you and your books.
Dean and Sam walked into the room and stopped, “kittens?” Dean asked.
“yeah let me show you!” you grinned, “the ginger one is Gabriel, the black on is Michael, the brownish white one is Raphael and this gold bundle of joy is Lucifer, he’s my favorite.”
“you’re telling us, you named these kittens after the archangels?” Sam said in confusion, “but why?!”
Looking for a Dean Winchester for my OC if anyone is interested please message. I am willing to be any other character in SPN just looking for a Dean. 18+
OC: Kylie Lawrence
Age: 27
Kylie has been a hunter ever since her mom died at an early age. Her dead put her through unconventional teachings of being a hunter. At the age of 20 Kylie escaped her father and now works as a bartender in New Jersey helping other hunters where she can
Summary:Years ago, Dean got hit by a memory spell. Ever since, even if Rowena fixed him, he gets weird absences; he suddenly forgets who he is and always runs away. There’s only one place he can go, one place he feels safe. To the night you met.
Warning: angst, feelings, amnesia, memory loss, anger due to amnesia, angst, after effect from a spell/curse, verryyyy angsty, mention of character death, grief, graveyard, angst
A/n: Hey guys! It’s been a while since I last posted, sorry about that, I’ve been feeling pretty low! So, this is for @libre1rose8 300 followers writing challenge! My prompt was: “I don’t even remember my own name!”, the place: graveyard, and the object: ring. For maximum angst effect, please listen tothison repeat :) and sorry for the angst!
Summary:Dean x Reader - Neighbours AU - Dean and the reader live next door to each other and can’t stand each other. Will things change once circumstances bring this bartender and businessman duo closer together?
Triggers:Talk of kidnapping, injuries, hospitals
Y/N = Your name | Y/L/N = Your last name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour | Y/H/C = Your hair colour
Dean The incessant beeping pulled Dean back out of the darkness that had temporarily swallowed him. Sending shocks of dull pain, diluted by annoyance, through his system as he kept his eyes shut, trying to get his bearings.
How long had he been out?
What had happened after the click of the gun he’d been sure would end his life? He thought he remembered the cops.. He was sure that he’d felt the twinge of relief of (Y/N) being safe. Had he imagined it all?
The last thing he remembered was… What was it?
He remembered the sounds of paramedics, urging him to respond to them. And (Y/N), he remembered his beautiful girl next door. She’d been crying. He’d tried to… Had he told her how he felt? He thoughthe did, though he couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t just all a dream concocted by his mind once he fell unconscious. The final confessions of a doomed man.
Still, he was sure he heard her, saw her. In the ambulance? Had he beenin an ambulance? Damn it, his mind was jumbled and slow and he had to fight the urge to not scream in frustration. Everything was hazy… Blurry.
It was all snapshots, but nothing fit together right. The only clear spot was her. His sunshine girl.
Where everything else was out of focus, she was crystal clear. The tears that had stained her beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes and the slight tremble to her lips as she tried to hold back her sobs. Her small voice begging him to be ok, begging for forgiveness for crimes that weren’t hers to carry. Her fragile-but-strong shoulders had been shaking under the weight of those damn unearned chains and shackles, and Dean hadn’t been able to push them away or carry them for her.
Though, even if those moments with her were clear. They were all still just as jumbled together as everything else. As if the heavy hit to his head had rearranged the fragmented memories from the hellish night.
Wrestling with his own memories, Dean frowned at the constant beeping and the voices arguing quietly in the background. It was all too loud, too much. He couldn’t think straight with all that noise.
Gritting his teeth in preparation for the light he could somehow sense through his shut eyelids, Dean opened his eyes carefully. Looking out through the veils of his eyelashes at first, before the sight in front of him made him open them fully.
(Y/N),thank god…
She wasn’t looking his way, her jaw set with that cute stubborn expression she’d wear to show whomever got in her way that she wasn’t budging. And, as Dean finally managed to blink away the rest of the fog over his eyes, the target of her stubborn rage and whispered arguments came into view. At first, Dean had to fight the bile rising in his throat when he saw the crisp uniform of the Detective, however, as his features came fully into view, the panic that was slowly building vanished with a short push of air through pursed lips. Detective Davies, not Ketch.
Thank god, she was safe. He hadn’t just dreamt it all up.
“You heard the doctor Ms. (Y/L/N), Mr. Winchester will be fine. His ribs are mainly bruised with just one hairline fracture. The bullet only strayed him and the injury to his head wasn’t serious either. At most he might be suffering from a concussion. He’ll be cleared to return home after one night under observation…” Mick Davies’ voice was exasperated as he kept his words soft and barely even audible in the otherwise quiet room.
“Itoldyou. I’m not going anywhere until Dean wakes up,” (Y/N) whisper-yelled at Detective Douchebag as she crossed her arms defensively over her chest as if physically restraining herself.
“I’m sorry Ms. (Y/L/N), but we need you to…”
The nearly mechanic way the words left Mick Davies told Dean that it wasn’t the first time he’d parroted those exact words. And by the exhausted look in his eyes when she cut him off with another stubborn shake of her head, it wasn’t the first time the girl from apartment 42 had refused to listen either.
“Nodetective. I am not going anywhere. He was shot trying to save me after Brian tried to kill him. And then one of your own, Ketch, tried to finish the job!” Though whispering, it was clear to Dean that she was lacing each word with as much vitriol as she could. Using them as weapons to keep the detective at bay and shut him up.
Yet as quick as the anger and spite had shown up in her voice, it bled away with a single relieved sob as her eyes strayed to Dean on the bed. Eyes widening as they met with his once she realised he was awake.
“Thank God… Dean,”
Her stiff hold crumbled away as she hurried to his side. Unshed tears veiling (Y/E/C) eyes; she slid into the seat next to what Dean now realised was his hospital bed. Though he couldn’t take his eyes off of her for long enough to check the rest of his surroundings.
Reaching out a weak, heavy hand, Dean tried to lift it up to wipe at the tears staining her beautiful, tired eyes. Yet, before he could reach her, (Y/N)’s smaller hand wrapped around his and gently placed it back on the bed.
“How do you feel? The doctor said you were incredibly lucky. The bullet only…” She started, ready to parrot the same diagnosis that Dean had heard the detective talk about only moments earlier as he just smiled at her.
Squeezing her hand softly, he cut off her talk before she started rambling. He had so much he wanted to tell her… He wanted to reassure her he was fine. He wanted to finally fully let her know how he felt. Hell, he needed to make sure she was uninjured… Yet, as he opened his mouth, the only thing that truly mattered ended up spilling out past dry lips.
“You’re safe,” Dean sighed in relief as he let his thumb run along the back of her hand, revelling in the feel of her skin under his fingers. She was warm, safe, alive… She was there. Away from Brian, and the whole nightmare. Thank god.
“I’m so sorry Dean, I…” Her soft voice trembled and broke over the words as she once more tried to apologise for sins that weren’t hers to carry or ask forgiveness for. Shaking his head softly, Dean bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning in pain as his brain still rattled painfully in his skull from every small move he made.
“Don’t (Y/N). It’s not your fault… Please don’t,” Cutting off her words, Dean pulled softly at her hand, making her lean in closer to him as he gently removed his fingers from hers to move a few stray hairs out of her face and softly swipe his thumb against the wetness on her cheek.
“Never apologise. This isn’t on you. Ok?” He whispered, as his weak arm lost what little strength it had and fell back on the bed as his fingertips reached for hers.
“Ok…” Finding his hand again, his girl next door gently squeezed his hand with a small nod as she took a few steadying breaths and wiped away the rest of her tears with the sleeve of her jacket.
“So, what happened?” Throwing her a small, tired smile, Dean kept his eyes on his sunshine girl as he raised his voice enough to be sure the detective could hear him too. Finally giving fully up on trying to understand his own fragmented memories.
Seeing the question as his cue to speak up, Mick Davies stepped closer to the bed, though still keeping himself at a professional distance. Close enough to be seen and heard, but not close enough to disturb the fragile calm that had fallen over the hospital room as (Y/N) held onto Dean’s hand with a small, tired smile.
“When we arrived at the lakehouse, Mr. Lackland was trying to restrain Ms. (Y/L/N) and Arthur… Mr. Ketch had you handcuffed on the floor,” Luckily Detective Davies started at the beginning. Saving Dean from having to ask him to go back to when his memories grew hazy and soft at the edges from the blow to the head and lack of oxygen in his lungs.
“We were very lucky. If we’d arrived a moment later, or if Mr. Ketch hadn’t valued his own life above anything else… When we called for them to put their weapons down, they both did so without a fight,” The detective continued, the unspoken ‘what ifs’ clear in his tone as Dean internally shuddered at the thought of a gun fight breaking out in the cabin and (Y/N) getting caught in the crossfire.
Yeah…
They’d been lucky. Lucky that she hadn’t gotten hurt. Lucky that the police showed up when they did. Hell, they’d been lucky the police showed up at all. Considering they barely even saw Brian as a threat.
Gritting his teeth to keep the anger that was slowly bubbling up from under the surface from rising, Dean cleared his throat as he forced himself to pull his eyes off of the girl from apartment 42 to look at the detective. The whole incompetent police force had nearly ended up getting him killed and her… Fuck, something so much worse almost happened to her.
“Why?” Dean tried to keep the anger and vitriol out of his voice as he shot the question at the uniformed man. Clipping it down to only the basest syllable in fear that if he kept speaking, he’d start screaming.
“I… What do you mean?” Mick Davies seemed genuinely confused as his eyes went from Dean and over to the tired woman, the victim, in the chair next to him. As if he could find the rest of Dean’s question hiding somewhere else in the sterile hospital room.
“Why did you even come? I thought you said you didn’t believe that Brian was anywhere near the lakehouse?” Giving up on hiding his anger, he spat the questions at the detective, his hand gently squeezing (Y/N)’s as he spoke. As if to reassure himself she was really there and that this wasn’t some dream he’d concocted in his final moments on earth.
“Ms. (Y/L/N)’s lawyer, your brother, called. He had been unable to get through to you. At first the phone rang, but when he tried again and again, it kept going to voicemail. So… He contacted us fearing the worst. In our conversation with him, some of the details he mentioned about the officer he had spoken to earlier in the day led us to look into Arthur Ketch. Only to discover he had been missing for hours,”
The near automatic drone of the detective’s voice hinted at practised and rehearsed words he’d probably already shared with the girl from apartment 42 earlier while Dean was still unconscious. Yet, to him it all just sounded like excuses. As if the uniformed man was rambling, looking for some way to excuse his own failures.
Of course, it was Sammy.
In this whole fucked up situation, the only person they could have counted on was Sam. He had a good head on his shoulders. And once more, he’d managed to save the day.
“Mr. Winch… I mean, Sam Winchester then pushed us to bring a few officers out to the lakehouse to check on you, having a hunch regarding Arthur Ketch. Which was verified when we realised that the earlier sightings and reports of Brian in town had been filed by Ketch himself,” Detective Davies continued his rehearsed speech, choosing to ignore the burning look Dean threw his way as he focused on the wall over his head instead.
The detective’s earlier words echoed in the back of Dean’s mind, giving him pause. It all made sense now. Why Davies had been so sure Brian was nowhere near the cabin when he called them. Ketch had filed false reports spotting Brian in town to throw them off the scent and buy them a few more hours. That bastard had played the whole system.
All for his sadistic little plan.
“So when you realised…” Dean pushed when he noticed that Davies had stopped speaking, waiting for some form of input from him.
“Yes, when we then realised that Brian could be on his way to your location, we mobilised a full team. Plus we got another team working on finding out everything we can about Mr. Ketch as well. The results so far have been… Troubling,” Davies picked up where he left off with a curt nod. His lips pursing and brow furrowing at the idea of one of their own pulling one over on them.
“Hedid talk about how he’d been running circles around you guys this whole time,” Dean hadn’t meant for the words to make the detective flinch. Yet, as he saw Mick Davies’ otherwise tense and strict hold shift uncomfortably, he found some twisted pleasure in putting the detective back in his place. This was all their fault.
Opening his mouth to argue against Dean’s words, the detective seemed to think better of it as he shook his head with a tired, defeated sigh. His shoulders falling as he seemed less like an officer standing at parade rest, and more like just a man.
“Unfortunately… It also seems he’s been using government databases to feed Brian information. Much of what Mr. Lackland learned about Ms. (Y/L/N)… About both of you, was information given to him by Mr. Arthur Ketch. I’m sorry to say that he was telling the truth, he has been hindering this investigation from day one,” Davies finally said with a sigh. Admitting to their failures, even though he still put all the blame on the monster in their midst.
“Stop calling him that,” Before Davies could continue his robotic retelling, a small voice spoke up from next to Dean. (Y/N)’s voice was low and barely audible. But in the quiet of the hospital room, with only the machines attached to Dean’s body whirring and beeping away, her words were still clearly audible to both of the men in the room.
For a beat, the room fell silent as the detective tried to wrap his head around her words. His lips parting and closing around nothing as he tried to find some fault in his own by-the-book retelling of the events.
“Stop calling that monster Mr. Ketch. He is one of yours! A detective,” (Y/N)’s voice was stronger this time around, growing in volume as (Y/H/C) hair whipped around her when she turned to throw the words directly at the detective. Making him once more frown. Though not from guilt, Dean noted, but rather confusion.
“No Mr… Officer Ketch was never a detective. It is true that he was aiming to become one. He had recently passed the exam, but… Some of his previous arrests were… Dubious. So, he was under heavy review,” The detective picked his words carefully. Rolling them around in his mouth before delivering each and every carefully selected word as he paused between statements.
In the hospital bed, Dean froze for a second as the realisation hit him, before slowly, painstakingly so, sitting up a little more in the bed. Gritting his teeth against the dull pain that was once again returning now that whatever painkillers they’d pumped him full of were slowly waning.
Ketch’swhole plan, the plan that had hinged on him rising through the ranks, had failed from the start. Even if something had happened to (Y/N) that night, it wouldn’t have been Ketch that got the case. Damn it, the bastard wasn’t just sadistic, he was delusional. Just like his puppet, Brian. Both of them had been living out their own sick, twisted play. And (Y/N) had been cast as the unwilling lead. By two delusional bastards.
Looking back up, Dean realised the room had grown quiet again as his eyes went from (Y/N)’s fiery ones and over to the confused detective looking at them both for clarification. But the girl from apartment 42 kept her lips firmly together, pursed in annoyance and anger as she refused to meet the detective’s eye. Keeping herself busy by letting fidgeting hands straighten out Dean’s sheets and fussing over him whenever he grimaced uncontrollably from a new burst of dull pain. The fire in her eyes softened as she busied herself fixing his pillows to try and make him more comfortable.
“He told us he was. He said that when he planned this whole thing back a year ago. He had Brian wait because he needed a promotion. That he had planned it all out so he would lead the investigation if (Y/N) was… If I hadn’t been there that first night,” Dean finally clarified as he reached for her hand. Unwilling to talk about what could have happened that night if he hadn’t been around and if she hadn’t slept on his couch instead of going back to apartment 42.
“Well, he had been promoted within the ranks of officers, but not to the level where he’d lead a missing persons case,” Davies hesitated over his words as he took a small notepad out of his jacket pocket. Jotting something down as he mulled Dean’s words over. For a second the only sound in the room was pen against paper as he quickly wrote down the details, before shutting the notebook with an audible snap and placing it back in his jacket.
“We still have a lot to investigate. And I can’t do anything but apologise for the fact that our operation was compromised the way it was, but… We have them both in custody. And though we need to wait for the results of the investigation and the subsequent court proceedings, I am confident they’ll both be going away for a very long time,” He finally continued, summing up the short retelling of events with words that portrayed the anger simmering right under the surface in the detective as well.
Though the words were standard and basic, devoid of any emotion, Dean could tell… Arthur Ketch had betrayed his comrades at the police station. And they weren’t going to let that go.
“I hope they rot in jail,” (Y/N) spat, her eyes still only on Dean as she carefully brushed some hair out of his face before curling her trembling fingers into a tight fist. She was trying so hard to be strong. And it broke Dean’s heart. Lifting his hand, he gently pried the fingers loose, holding her small hand in his own as he kept his eyes on hers, even when the detective continued speaking.
“We have them both on attempted murder charges, as well as attempted kidnapping, bodily harm… The list goes on and on. Not to mention that Officer Ketch has additional charges for hindering the investigation, aiding and abetting a criminal, and the theft of a standard issue firearm, since both guns found at the scene were police issued weapons,” The detective’s words were nothing but facts, but they held a promise. To both the police itself, and to the girl from apartment 42, that he would do everything in his power to lock them up and throw away the key.
Making a show out of looking at his wrist watch, the detective released a tired sigh as he looked out the hospital window at the sun that was slowly rising over the horizon and painting the sky in the first few soft shades of pink.
“Now, we’ll need…” He started, but before he could finish his sentence he was cut down by the door nearly hitting the wall as it was pushed open. The end of his sentence, fully drowned out by the redhead in the doorway as she let out a relieved sob from seeing her best friend safe and sound.
“(Y/N)!” Charlie rushed into the room along with Gabriel, both of them ignoring the detective as they nearly threw themselves at the girl from apartment 42. Fuzzing over her as they looked for any signs of injuries on their best friend.
Looking at the scene with a tired smile, Dean let his eyes drift towards the door to give them some semblance of privacy as his eyes met a frazzled Sam’s. Throwing his worried brother a lopsided grin, he chuckled weakly at the tried and tested eye roll he got in return as his little brother rushed to his side.
“Sorry I didn’t answer your call, I was kinda… Tied up,” Dean joked. Though, by the look in Sam’s eyes, his attempt at humour fell flat as his brother just squared his jaw and shook his head. Sending shaggy brown hair flying back and forth. His normally perfectly styled appearance, which came with the job, all out of place as the signs of Sammy’s night were written clearly on his body. From the wrinkled mess of a shirt to the way his hair fell haphazardly around his face after clearly having spent the better part of the night pulling at it in worry.
“Jerk…” Sam just huffed in return, his voice tired and worried as he took in the machines surrounding his brother.
“What did the…” Before Sam could ask any more questions, the detective cleared his throat and nodded towards the door.
“I’ll give you all a…” Shutting his mouth as Charlie scoffed at him, he just nodded curtly before making his way to the door to give them all a moment.
Looking around the room, at the small group of friends, family and strangers that had all been pulled together by the hellish events, Dean finally felt himself fully relax.
Summary: Dean x Reader - Neighbours AU - Dean and the reader live next door to each other and can’t stand each other. Will things change once circumstances bring this bartender and businessman duo closer together?
Triggers: Talk of kidnapping, injuries, hospitals
Y/N = Your name | Y/L/N = Your last name | Y/E/C = Your eye colour | Y/H/C = Your hair colour
A/N: We’re closing in on the end now! Just two more chapters and an epilogue left to wrap it all up.
A/N 2: In this chapter, some of Dean’s “internal monologue” have been formatted in green bold italics.
ReaderAs Sam’s whispered words to his brother were being drowned out by Charlie’s panicked voice, you gently herded your two best friends out of the room. Choosing to talk to them in the busy hospital hallway instead so that Dean could have some time with his brother, without Sam having to worry about you as well.
He needed some time to just be a brother, not your lawyer.
Yet, even in the busy hallway, you couldn’t take your eyes off Dean through the half open door. Your friends’ worried words were coming through muted in your mind as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep yourself from rushing back to the man in apartment 43’s side when his green eyes met yours.
“I was soscared (Y/N)… When Sam contacted me I thought…” Charlie’s trembling voice broke through your muted pain as you pulled your eyes off of your superhero next door to look at your best friends.
“I’m fine, I was… Dean protected me. I’m not going to lie, it was hell, but Dean was there,” You sighed as you threw your friends a small smile, your eyes flitting over to where Dean was still watching you before biting your lip and forcing your attention back onto your worried friends.
“And thank god for that,” Gabe sighed as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. Pulling you close into a small hug as you let out a breath you hadn’t even noticed you’d been holding.
You were back home, and your friends were safe. It still hadn’t fully sunk in, but the feel of your oldest friend’s strong arm wrapping you up in a hug helped solidify that it wasn’t just all some hopeful dream. The men that had made your life hell, and that had terrorised the people close to you, were caught. They couldn’t hurt you anymore. They couldn’t hurt your best friends, or Dean…
“Everything… It all just happened so fast, yet it felt like days,” You disguised your small sob as a cough to clear your throat, not wanting to worry your friends any more than they already were. Blinking away traitorous tears, you lifted your eyes to meet theirs. Your own hands dug into your upper arms as you held yourself together. And, as more words left you, you slowly but surely started retelling the events to your two best friends.
The words came out staggered as you stopped to hug Charlie once her eyes started tearing up again at your words or leaned against Gabe as you watched him struggle to breathe from the horrific events. It hurt to talk about it, but you had to.
You would have to recount those events over and over again now. To police officers, to friends and family… To a court, somewhere down the line. So you wanted them to at least hear it from you first. Instead of the robotic retelling of events that the police would offer up or the sensationalised version the media would tell if they got a hold of the information.
Which you had no doubt they would.
Hell, even as you kept speaking, telling the story on autopilot, your mind was still racing trying to catch up with everything that happened. Your eyes moving off of your friends and towards Dean in the other room whenever it became too hard to breathe through the horrible memories that clung to your heart and chest. The little part of your mind that kept telling you that you were still in that cabin, in the middle of the nightmare, clinging on stubbornly even in the bright synthetic lights of the hospital hallway.
“So, the police came and I… I couldn’t just leave Dean. I’m not hurt, Charlie. I promise. I barely have a scratch on me,” You finally said with a sigh as your friends kept fuzzing over you. Giving them a tired smile as they both cast dubious glances in your direction.
You knew you looked like hell, but you were telling the truth. Dean had acted like the shield you hadn’t wanted him to ever be. Which only added to your guilt as you blinked back tears and hugged yourself tighter, looking over at Dean once more.
Everytime you glanced over, you were met with the warm, worried green eyes of the man from apartment 43. As if he hadn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time, even as his brother kept talking to him.
Noticing where you were looking and the little furrow in your brow, Gabriel gently pulled you closer to his side and placed a soft kiss on the crown of your hair as he gave you another one armed hug. Squeezing you closer against his side and temporarily blocking you from seeing your saviour.
“Let’s go get a coffee? Give them some time?” The question left your best friend as a breath of warm air into your hair as you simply nodded. Letting your two friends lead you down the hallway of the hospital and away from Dean.
He needed time with his brother. And, as long as you were standing in the hallway looking over at him every few minutes, with pain and worry staining your eyes, he wouldn’t be able to focus.
“I’ve heard horrible things about the coffee here. You might have to check yourself in to get your stomach pumped after drinking it,” Gabriel’s voice echoed off the hospital walls with strained, fake enthusiasm as he gently pushed you forward down the hallway. In an attempt at lifting the heavy mood with a joke as you walked down the sterile hallways side by side, supported on each side by your best friends. But his normally jovial tone was lacking. Leaving the joke hanging awkwardly between the three of you as you forced a tired smile out.
“If I end up hospitalised then you’retelling Davies that I can’t come down to give my statement,” You shot back, grateful for the attempt at normality, no matter how forced and strained it was, as your shoulders finally relaxed and your hands dropped from your bruising hold on yourself.
“Happily. I’d love to piss that bastard off,” Gabe shot back, sounding genuinely excited at the prospect.
—
The coffee was awful.
To the point where you found yourself wondering where the hospital disposed of toxic waste, so you could wash that swill down the drain along with it. But it was at least luke warm and caffeinated, which your tired and freezing body sorely needed. Though the gentle jabs and arguments between your friends as they tried to pretend things were normal for your sake warmed you more than any cup of coffee could.
“Iswearhe was flirting with me,” Gabriel shot back at Charlie’s incredulous laugh after he got done retelling his time spent pranking the police officers charged with watching over him. Fully believing he was being straight up courted, like he was part of some Victorian era day time drama, by the older officer who’s been his main security for the last few days.
“I don’t think him following you everywhere was him flirting, Gabe. It was his job,” Charlie laughed as she rolled her eyes at your trickster of a friend’s wide eyed look. Though by the way she’d shyly blushed when she’d talked about Dorothy, the junior agent working alongside Jody Mills to watch over her, she herself had gotten some flirting in. And a new job, apparently, as the Cyber Crime Unit seemed very interested in her skills.
“You didn’t see his eyes. They were lustful, I swear. And the way he asked me if I liked sugar in my coffee? With a soft southern drawl? That man wanted some of this. Not that I blame him, I mean… Come on,” Gabe’s eyebrows lifted along with his trademark smirk as he let his hands gestured to his own body. Wiggling said eyebrows a little more when he noticed he’d managed to tease a soft laugh out of you.
“Soft southern drawl? Sounds more like you’rethe one with the crush,” You quipped as you grimaced around another sip of that awful hospital coffee.
“Oh, you know me babe. I flirt with everyone,” Gabriel shrugged, shiteating grin solidly in place as you rolled your eyes at him. Your very own Casanova had probably made both of the poor officers watching over him work extra hard for their money. At least based on the pranks he’d told you about. And you were sure that wasn’t all he’d done. Gabriel didn’t play well with others. At least not with people tasked to make sure he didn’t get himself into trouble. Not when trouble was his favourite thing to get into.
“Tell me his name and I’ll try to get you his number,” You chuckled as you crushed the empty paper cup in your hand. Lifting your eyes you tried to find any clocks on the wall, for some indication of how much time had passed. Before giving up and lifting yourself out of the uncomfortable plastic seat in the hospital cafeteria. Even if Dean was still busy talking to Sam, you just wanted to seehim.
While your best friends had done their best to make you feel as if life was back to normal, and not the damned nightmare that it all truly was, you still hadn’t managed to fully fall back into the lighthearted routine. Your mind and heart was stuck, somewhere down the hospital hallways. Settled in next to a hospital bed, with Dean, as you could;’t help but wish you were still by his side.
You wouldn’t bother him, but you just… You needed to see him. To make sure those green eyes were still bright and open. And not silently closed, bruised and bloodied, like they had remained the whole awful drive to the hospital in the back of the ambulance.
Yet, before you could push yourself away from the table and go back to him, a hand on your shoulder made you flinch. Your body freezing in fear as the words you’d been wanting to say to your friends died in your throat. Though you knew the hospital was safe, your mind was still stuck in fight or flight. And the small, harmless action was enough to send your heart into your throat as images of Ketch and Brian flashed in front of your eyes.
Turning your face towards the owner of the big hand on your shoulder, you looked at him wide eyed for a split second. Before finally letting out a shaky breath as you came face to face with Detective Mick Davies. His eyes softened apologetically as he removed his hand from your shoulder and took a step back to give you space.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you…” Davies dragged out the final words as he looked from you to your friends and back down at his wrist watch. Seemingly hesitating over his next words before steeling himself and refocusing his attention on you again.
“I just wanted to see if you are ready to come down to the station now Ms. (Y/L/N)? Now that Mr. Winchester is awake and…” The detective continued, keeping his eyes on you as he gestured towards the cafeteria exit.
“GOD! Just let her breathe damn it!” Charlie’s loud voice echoed in the cafeteria, still mainly empty this early in the morning, as she cut off the detective and lifted herself up out of her own seat. Fiery red hair whipping around her as she glared at the detective and made her way around the table to stand in front of you like a protective mama bear.
“She’s been through enough. And who are you to rush her? You guys took your sweet time helping,” Your best friend continued, not lowering her volume at all, even as the few people coming in for their morning coffees turned to look your way.
Placing your hand softly on Charlie’s arm, you gently stopped your fiery best friend from verbally pummeling the detective any further with a small shake of your head. Sending her a grateful smile as she opened her mouth to argue before sighing in defeat when she read the pleading look in your eyes. You really didn’t want to have to have your best friends end up in cuffs for assaulting an officer on top of everything else you’d had to deal with.
“It’s alright… Just, can I go and talk to Dean first? Just for a moment?” You finally asked the detective. Turning your head to face him once you were sure your best friend wouldn’t resort to actual violence against the uniformed man.
For a second, it looked like Detective Davies would say no. His brow knitted and eyes hesitant as his gaze dropped from yours to once again look at his wristwatch. But, with another tired sight and a hand pinching the bridge of his nose, he finally nodded.
—
“Do you want us to come in with you?” Charlie whispered as you got closer to Dean’s hospital room and your steps slowed down to a crawl.
Your little train of followers probably looked strange to the staff and other patients of the hospital. With you in the lead, looking like you’d been through hell.. Which, well, you kind of had. Followed by Charlie and Gabe, who refused to let go of you, yet stayed half a step behind to block Davies’ view of you. As the uniformed detective was left to follow a few steps behind. While your two best friends thoroughly ignored him.
Yet, though you wanted to get away from the curious looks of the rest of the hospital. You couldn’t help but slow down when you were getting closer to Dean’s room. The guilt that still weighed heavily in the pit of your stomach slowing your steps as your hands trembled lightly. You needed to see him, and though you knew he didn’t blame you, your mind was still twisting your guilt into ugly, vicious images of the Winchester brothers both throwing you accusatory looks when you came back into the hospital room.
After all, you were just a neighbour. A former stranger that Dean Winchester had decided to help out on a whim. And you’d nearly gotten him killed.
Chewing on your bottom lip you still shook your head in response to Charlie’s question. Eyes not leaving the door down the hallway that hid Dean from you as you forced your feet to listen to you and continued the rest of the way towards the hospital room.
“No… I need to talk to him alone,” You said, your attempt at a smile twisting into a soft frown as you let your eyes drop to your hands. The guilt painted them blood red in your mind’s eye as you curled your fingers into soft fists in a foolish attempt to hide how bloodied they were from yourself, and from your friends. Even though you knew they saw nothing but the trembling hands of their broken best friend.
“Are you sure? We don’t mind,” Gabriel pushed as his eyes focused on your shaking hands. Gently prying them open before lifting his hands to turn you to face him instead of the half open door where Dean was that you had finally come to a full stop in front of.
“I’m sure. It’s just… I feel so damnguilty. It’s my fault he’s…” You sighed, trying to shake your head. But, before you could complete your sentence, or the shake of your head, both were cut out as Gabriel lifted a hand to place it over your mouth. Muffling your words just as Charlie spoke up, a little too loudly for the quiet hospital hallway.
“No! Nope, you don’t get to say that. No way,” She half-shouted, earning her a few dirty looks from a nearby nurse as you tried to remove Gabriel’s hand over your mouth to tell her to quiet it down. And failing miserably as your best friends ganged up on you.
The damned dynamic duo; God, you loved them.
“You did not do anything wrong (Y/N). Those two monsters did that to him, to you. So you don’t get to feel guilty. You get to feel angry. And you better embrace it. Be angry at them. Be pissedoff. And make the world listen. Ok?” Charlie pushed, though she thankfully lowered her voice to a quiet hiss as her eyes burned into you. Making sure you heard every single word.
You were only able to nod as Gabe’s hand was still stopping you from speaking as you cast a glance towards the door you’d come to a full stop in front of. As your eyes found the room behind the half closed door, they were met with Dean’s amused, if not a bit confused, smile from the inside.
Great.
He’d seen your friends gang up on you. Though, considering everything else he’d seen of the messy, broken and downright awful thing you called your life… Seeing you being physically silenced by your two best friends was probably just a nice change of pace for the man from apartment 43.
“Good, now get your cute butt in there and talk to Mr. Greek-God-Next-Door and we’ll wait out here for you. We’re coming with you to the station to make sure the police behave. If they don’t I’ll sic Char on ‘em,” Taking his hand off your mouth Gabe whispered the words into your ear before ending them in a soft kiss to your temple as he stepped back and let you go with a small smile.
Returning the smile and mouthing a quiet ‘Thank you’ to both of your friends, you took a deep breath before opening the door to Dean’s hospital room fully. Sending a tired smile Sam’s way as you watched him lift his tall body out of the chair by his brother’s bedside.
Stopping right inside the door, you watched as the younger Winchester walked over to you. Placing a large warm hand on your shoulder with a soft pat, as if he was tagging you in, before taking the last few steps over to the door and slipping out of it. Closing it softly behind him just as he turned towards the Detective that your two best friends were doing their utmost to completely ignore.
Taking a shaky breath, you only made it two steps further into the room before you stopped, frozen. Looking back down at your trembling hands as you wet chapped lips, trying to find something to say.
“Hi,” The shaky greeting was all that left you, as your eyes looked up towards him through your lashes.
—
DeanDean couldn’t focus on Sam’s words. At least when (Y/N) was still in the hospital room, he’d been able to feign focus. But as she’d left to give him some privacy, he’d fully shut out Sam’s worried words as his eyes stayed on her fragile body in the hallway.
The way she was hugging herself under the artificial lights breaking his heart as he longed to just wrap her up in his arms. Yet, he’d stayed put. Feeling his heart soar whenever she caught him staring, and longing to trace her bottom lip with his thumb to stop her from chewing on it.
His eyes stayed on her until she walked off down the hallway with her friends. And it took everything he had in him to not get out of bed to follow her as illogical panic gripped his heart. She was safe. There were no more monsters hiding in the shadows. Yet, even as he tried to tell himself that, he couldn’t make himself believe it. Somehow that ancient, protective part of him just refused to see it.
Dean just wanted to be by her side, to keep her safe.
But, instead he stayed; trapped in his hospital bed. And as the last few strands of her hair disappeared out of view, he let out a tired sigh as his eyes fell to his bedsheets. He had so much he wanted to tell her, but everything was still just too hectic. Too crazy.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Sam’s voice finally dragged Dean’s mind back into the hospital room while his heart was still busy following (Y/N) down the hall. Lifting his head, he turned it as gingerly as he could, to stop the fresh shots of dull pain from shooting up his spine and into his brain, to look at his little brother. Only to be met with equal parts annoyance and worry in his hazel eyes.
“I’m fine Sammy. Just a bit roughed up. As I said, I’ll be out of here by tomorrow, at the latest,” Dean shot back dismissively. Truth was, he was in a hell of a lot of pain. But he’d grown up taking care of the kid, and he could see Sam was already near frantic with worry. So he wasn’t gonna add to it.
“When I called and you didn’t pick up… I feared the worst Dean,” Sam’s voice was thick with those same what ifs that had probably plagued him when he couldn’t get through to Dean. The worry shining just as brightly in the younger Winchester’s eyes as the big brother in him softened slightly, lifting a still weak hand to pat his younger brother on the back with a tired sigh.
“I know, kid… Thank you for acting so fast. You saved my life. You saved both our lives,” He murmured softly as he gave his brother another pat on his shoulder before withdrawing his arm with a small wince from the dull pain. He tried to conceal it, but by the way the furrow in Sam’s brow got deeper it was clear the observant younger Winchester had seen the way even a small movement had him wincing in pain from his bruised ribs and shaken brain.
“You could have died,” Sam shot back, a mix of anger and fear in his words as he ran his fingers through his hair. A nervous habit Dean remembered the kid having since his early teens.
“But I didn’t, and… Hell, I needed to be there for her,” Dean said with a weak shrug. He knew he’d acted like an idiot out there in the cabin. Hell… He shouldn’t have tried to fight Brian. He should have just taken her hand and gotten the hell out of dodge. But if he had… Brian would have probably shot him in the back before they got to the car. Or worse, shot her.
“I’m just glad the police arrived when they did,” Sam’s voice was shaky as he pushed the words out with a relieved sigh, letting his back hit the back of the chair as he leaned his head back. Blinking away traitorous tears at the future that hadn’t come to pass. A future where he died and (Y/N) was lost forever.
“All thanks to you Sammy,” Dean said with a grin as a comfortable silence fell over the hospital room and the two brothers.
—
After taking a few moments to breathe and digest the fact that Dean was still alive, both brothers had spent the next little while dissecting the case and what Sam knew so far. At least the parts that he could share. Though most of it wasn’t news to Dean after his earlier talk with detective Mick Davies. Who had been surprisingly forthcoming if what Sam shared was anything to go by.
Sam had just started talking about his two hour drive to the hospital when Dean spotted her (Y/H/C) hair outside of his room again through the half-closed door. His breath stuck in his throat the moment his eyes found her again. Even as a soft smile was teased out of him when he watched her best friends nearly tackle her to stop her from whatever she was saying.
By the guilty look she’d thrown his way, Dean had no doubt it was yet another apology for something that was in no way her fault. And, damn it, he couldn’t help but feel bad for how he used to roll his eyes at the group of friends as they loudly brunched on her balcony in the sun while he worked. They were great friends to have, and Dean was sure they’d be great friends of his too, if he was ever given the chance to get to know them better. Which he hoped he would be given… Once all of this bullshit was finally over.
As (Y/N) finally stepped back into his hospital room, Dean couldn’t help himself as he straightened up as best he could on his bed. Flinching at the fresh shots of aching pain as he sent her a small, careful smile.
Once again, Sam had practically ceased to exist as the girl from apartment 42, his sunshine girl, became the only clear spot in the room. And, as if sensing it, the younger Winchester got up out of his seat without another word. Walking over to her, Sam only gave her a small smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before silently leaving the two of them alone.
Sammy was always good at reading the room. Part of what made him such a damned good lawyer.
As the soft click of the door shutting signalled that the two of them were all alone, (Y/N) only moved a few more steps, until she was standing in the middle of the room. Her trembling sugar and sunshine lips parting and closing over nothing as she looked for the right words.
Not that Dean minded just waiting and watching her. The way her beautiful eyes moved across the room between throwing glances in his direction, or that cute furrow that was back on her brow as she tried to sort her thoughts out.
Damn it, he could watch her forever.
Yet, just as that though hit him. Her small voice finally filled the room. Warming the space between them as Dean let out a sigh in contentment. No, he didn’t just want to watch her. He wanted to talk to her, to understand all the complex thoughts swimming behind her eyes. He wanted to be there for her. He wanted her to think of him as her confidant. Someone she could finally let her walls down with. Hell…
He just wanted her to think of him.
“Hi,” Was all she said as she looked down at her hands, tearing at her shirt as she squeezed her eyes shut, as if cringing at her own one word sentence.
“Hey… Come on over here,” Dean shot back, keeping his voice soft and light as he patted the spot next to him on the bed in the direction of where the chair was. Though, hell, he wouldn’t have minded if she decided to sit on the bed with him instead.
“I have to go to the station… The statement and all that stuff. But, I wanted to just… Stop by first,” She said hesitantly as she threw a few glances at the closed door before walking the few steps across the hospital room and sinking into the chair where Sam had been sitting only moments earlier.
“Ah, so that’s why Charlie looked ready to kill Davies,” Dean mused with a lopsided smile, hoping his lighthearted words would help shake some of the guilt and tension off of her shoulders. A smile that only grew as he was rewarded by the beautiful sound of her laughter.
“She was ready to fight him in the cafeteria. I worried I’d have to bail her out for assaulting a police officer,” She laughed as (Y/E/C) eyes grew warm with fondness for her best friends.
Yet, as soon as the laughter warmed the room, it died down again. Leaving the girl from apartment 42 to fidget in her seat as she wet her bottom lip. Opening and closing her mouth, she looked up at him through her lashes as she tried to find the right words.
As the silence lasted for a beat. Then two. Dean finally decided to break it by clearing his throat. If nothing else, then to help remove the tense heavy air that seemed to be hanging around her as she frowned at her own inability to find the right words.
Then again, Dean wasn’t any better.
Though he wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and tell her how he felt, he just… Couldn’t. They were both too bruised and broken for him to lay it all on the line right there and then. Even though god, he wanted to. Still, what happened in the cabin was too fresh. And he couldn’t touch on the feelings they’d left behind there, nor on the half-conscious confession he barely remembered making. So instead, he settled for the relative safety of stating the obvious. Even as the words he really wanted to say echoed in the back of his mind.
“So… You’re finally safe now,” He said with a relieved sigh. And though he meant every single word. It wasn’t the ones he wanted to say. No, as the words left him, his mind translated them silently and buried the truth of them in his heart…
I’d do anything to keep you safe.
“You too. I’m sor… Thank you,” (Y/N) started to apologise, but as her eyes met his and she saw the small frown on his features, she corrected herself with a tired smile. Finally shedding the guilt that wasn’t hers to carry. If even just for his sake. Damn it, she just cared so much. Of course, he’d fallen for her. With her bright eyes and fiery spirit hiding such a fragile, gentle soul.
I’m falling for you.
Parting his lips, he nearly let the words slip just from the sight of the heartbreak that was still evident in her eyes. Refracting the light in the room through shards of her own broken heart before sending it back to him as a beautiful prism. Yet, he managed to bite his tongue. Thinking better of it as he swallowed them back down with a small, slightly stiff smile.
“They’ll both be going away for a long, long time,” Dean promised, though he knew the promise wasn’t his to make. Yet, again, his mind changed and shifted his words as he stored them safely in his heart. Transforming them into the only promise he truly wanted to make; I’ll stay. Right here. With you.
Biting her lip, (Y/N) just nodded, her head dipping as she played with her fingers in her lap. As Dean followed her gaze, he watched as one trembling thumb circled the light band of purple bruised skin around her ring finger, where the ring Brian had forced her to wear had been. Squaring his jaw, Dean reeled his anger back in with a heavy breath as he felt his hands curl into fists. Clearly the police had taken the ring as evidence. Though Dean wanted nothing more than to see the small piece of metal destroyed.
“I hope so,” Her voice was small when she finally spoke up. (Y/E/C) eyes barely met his before her head dropped again and she squeezed them shut to hold back tears. Damn it… He didn’t want to make her cry. He never wanted to make her sad. Groaning internally at his own stupidity. He struggled to think up something, anything else that could take her mind off of the monsters who had haunted her.
Yet, as he opened his mouth to speak, the words that came out were not as innocuous as he’d meant them to be. As the one thing he couldn’t help but worry about slipped out instead of a lighter topic, once his eyes landed on his own split up knuckles with a grimace.
“I’m sorry… I probably scared you with…” He sighed as he gestured to his knuckles with a small frown. The small voice in his heart begging her to not be scared of him as he bit back the words.
I’d never hurt you.
“No, it’s fine. He… He deserved it,” She sighed, finally looking up at him again.
The few tears in her eyes had been hastily wiped away by the sleeve of her shirt before her hand instead hovered over the split skin on his knuckles. Anxious worry stained (Y/E/C) eyes as she looked for some way to heal his hurt with just a simple touch of her fingers.
Giving up, his sunshine girl didn’t pull away however. Choosing instead to let her soft, trembling fingers trace a pattern against the back of his hand. Carefully avoiding the injured skin around his knuckles as he sighed in relief. She didn’t hate him.
“I just needed you to be safe is all,” He shrugged, as his eyes closed involuntarily at the pleasurable feel of her fingers playing across his skin. Damn it, she was better than the morphine drip the doctors had given him. And it took everything he had to not blurt out what he really wanted to say, as his mind once more twisted his words into a confession in the back of his mind.
I need you.
“Thank you Dean,” She whispered as Dean opened his eyes to look at her again. His heart soaring when he saw that small smile that had come to mean everythingto him during their stay in the lakehouse.
“No problem,” He said with a smile as he swallowed heavily with his heart in his throat from the heavenly sight of her smile. Forcing down the only words he’d really wanted to say, this whole time.
I’m in love with you (Y/N).
Chasing the words away with a heavy breath, Dean instead just brightened his own smile. He couldn’t tell her. Not yet. Not when there was still so much weighing on her shoulders. Yes, he’d tried to tell her how he felt, or he’d at least made some laughably weak attempts at telling her, back at the cabin. Hell, he’d even openly told Brian that he liked her. But she was fragile then and, damn it, he had taken advantage of that fragility to bare his heart to her.
Sure… She’d seemed to hint at feelings that mirrored his back then… And no matter what happened, the taste of her kiss would never leave him. It was tattooed onto his very soul. But, now that she was out of it all? Hell, maybe he was just her neighbour again… If that was what she wanted, fuck, it would hurt, but that would be what he’d be.
Still, he couldn’t ask her now.
He couldn’t risk ruining the smile that was slowly blossoming once more. And, damn it, he didn’t want to be the reason for her tears or anguish. She was already carrying guilt that didn’t belong to her. What if she felt guilty for not feeling the same way as him?
No… Dean couldn’t say it. So, instead he bit the words back and kept his voice, and his change of topic, light.
“So, what now?” Dean cringed at his choice of words. It was… Laughably weak and would only bring the conversation full circle. Seeing as she had already told him she would be going down to the station to give her statement. Yet, as she sighed and let her bright eyes go unfocused she seemed to search for an answer beyond the police station. (Y/E/C) orbs staring into a future that once more existed instead of the terrifying nightmare of prison bars and cameras she’d been faced with only hours earlier, Dean still held his breath as he waited for her answer. Wondering if he was anywhere to be found in whatever future she was staring into.
“Now, I don’t know…” She shrugged and frowned in that way that sent Dean’s heart into his throat again as he swallowed hard. Letting his hands dig into the blanket, he bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to stop himself from reaching out to erase the cute creases in her forehead with his thumb.
“I don’t think I can go back there. To… That place. Gabe’s offered up his guest bedroom, until I find another apartment,” She sighed, her eyes dropping as Dean’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. Leaving him nauseous and winded at the revelation.
“Oh…” Was all he managed to push out as he moved his eyes off of her to instead focus on his hands.
Of course she’d move. It shouldn’t have come as a shock to Dean. Yet, the thought of the apartment next to his being empty. The very idea of not hearing her little annoyed knocks against his bedroom wall in the morning. Or of not knowing she was right there, next to him, still tore at his heart as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
“But! I’ll… I’ll call you. Ok?” She shot in, throwing him a look tinged with worry and the early rays of fresh hope. Her bright (Y/E/C) eyes begging him to believe in her.
“Alright, I just… I want you to be happy (Y/N),” Dean said, giving her a small smile that he hoped looked believable as she returned it with her own shaky smile and placed her hand on his.
For a second, they just sat there in silence. As Dean searched for the words to make her stay… Or at least the words to make her smile that full bright smile from the days back on her balcony in apartment 42. However, before he could, the sharp knock of knuckles against plywood cut him off as Sam pushed open the door and peeked in.
“(Y/N)? Detective Davies is…” Sam started, cutting off his words when Dean shot him an annoyed look. Yet the damage was already done as his sunshine girl let out a tired sigh.
“Oh… Of course. I’ll… I’ll call you?” Her words came out shaped as a question instead of a statement as she waited for his permission, though she didn’t even have to ask. Dean would do anything for her.
Letting her fingers play with his hand again she smiled softly as he nodded. Before a trembling hand lifted to gently move a few stray hairs out of his face as Dean closed his eyes to revel in her touch.
“I’ll be waiting,” He hummed as he opened his eyes again and gave her a soft, genuine smile.
Smiling back, his sunshine girl, the girl who would no longer reside in apartment 42, gave him a small wave as she removed her fingertips from his skin and lifted herself out of the chair.
Parting her lips, she looked as if she wanted to say something else, before thinking better of it as she hurried back across the hospital room and over to the door where Sam was waiting. Wetting those sugar lips before mouthing a final bye his way, she slipped out, and into the hallway where Detective douchebag was waiting for her.
Yet, even as her eyes focused on the detective and her friends, Dean’s eyes didn’t leave her. Not as she readied herself to leave and took a few careful steps down the hallway before throwing a final glance his way over her shoulder.
No… Dean’s eyes stayed glued on her retreating form. Not leaving her until she was fully out of sight.
