dwonfilm.

➶ dean winchester:

• Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

• There’s no life after you. | Dean Winchester x Reader (one-shot)

➶ beau arlen:

• Cowboy Take Me Away | Beau Arlen x Reader (one-shot)

• Old habits die hard | Beau Arlen x Reader

➶ soldier boy:

Summary: Butcher tasked you with the job of teaching a freshly thawed Ben, aka Soldier Boy, how to use technology. First off you started with teaching him about the iPhone.

Warnings: bit of Solider Boy being Soldier Boy but otherwise, mostly fluff.

“Dammit!” [Y/N] heard Ben’s voice from the other room and she sighed. Next was a smash and that made her rush back into the bedroom. Immediately Ben’s eyes lifted up to see her coming in and he scoffed. “I didn’t break the cocksucking thing this time.” He stated plainly. “Good,” she answered. “I don’t have the money to buy you a fourth phone.” She moved to sit on the bed next to where he was currently sitting. “This shit ain’t a phone, it’s a thin ass rock with futuristic shit inside. Phones have a base and a receiver or they were these massive bricks with buttons—not whatever the fuck a touch screen is-“ Ben ranted, but [Y/N] just laughed. “Yeah, they were those things once but this is 2022. Life’s changed a lot and eventually you’re gonna need to learn all these things.” She spoke, picking up the phone that was on the bed between them, swiping up to unlock it. Bits of her [Y/H/C] hair covered her face while her attention focused on the screen. Ben just watched, a grumpy expression on his facial features. “How’d you get stuck doing this anyway? Where’s the Cum Guzzler or the Cheerio?” She laughed, Ben’s nicknames for people were always pretty humorous. “Hughie is scared of you and Butcher can barely explain anything in the entire history of life’s existence.” Ben gently laughed at her answer. Fingers moved across the screen, making selections that she didn’t think were necessary to explain to him at the moment. “So, the bean pole’s afraid of me huh?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. However it did bring up another question. “Why aren’t you scared of me?” His tone seemed indifferent but there was a hint of something more inside his eyes. Something she was oblivious to since her own were focused on the screen of the phone in her hands. Though, she slowly gazed up from it for a moment. “Honestly,” she began with a pause directly after. It was as if she was attempting to think about how to answer him. “I was at first, a little bit, but I just try to sympathize.” He scoffed almost immediately. “You sympathize with a piece of shit like me? No wonder it’s so easy to get you women in the sack. Jesus Chris-“ She turned her head and shot a glare at him. “You can sympathize with people without wanting to fuck them, for starters.” She rolled her eyes, moving her gaze back to the phone in her hands. “No one’s perfect, not that it’s excusing.. well everything. Despite all that, no one here has any real room to judge too harshly.” Ben quirked a brow at that. “That so? Don’t tell me a pretty lil’ thing like you has baggage!” Part of him was sort of mocking her, though he was getting curious. “Moving on, I made the email for you and set up an account for you to use the phone.” She began to explain, looking over to him but finding a confused expression on his face. “E-what?” He asked plainly, green eyes gazing into her own. “Right, I forgot you have no grasp on the basics.” She turned towards him now.

“Email is pretty easy, it’s like sending letters to people—only digitally and in a much faster time period. It used to take y’know, days, weeks for those to be delivered. Now it just takes seconds—also instead of a home address you just need their email address. Does that make sense at least somewhat?” Her voice was gentle, not sarcastic or cruel. [Y/E/C] eyes meeting his green ones as he was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.. I mean it seems straightforward enough—though doing that stupid shit is gonna be harder than understanding what the fuck it is.” He answered. “Well, yeah, but we’ll get there.” [Y/N] offered a half smile at him. “No one’s asking you to be Steve Jobs after a day,” she tried to encourage him but his face was blank yet again. “Who the fuck is that?” He asked, to which she sighed gently. “…never mind, it’s not important. What I meant is that none of us are expecting you to know how to use it all within the blink of an eye.” She replied before moving her gaze back to the phone. He peered over at the phone while knitting his brows together. None of it made any sense to him. Now the screen was black again, before the stupid symbol popped up. “..the fuck is it doing now?” He asked, moving his glance to her face. “It’s updating the software,” she spoke before shifting it to an analogy he’d understand. “..which is like maintenance on a car kind of—it makes sure everything’s working and also is.. replacing the parts in a sense. Fixing things that weren’t working and replacing them with things that will work and hopefully work better.” It took a second, but the analogy did help. “Makes sense I guess.” He spoke, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes watched for a moment before he became bored, so, he did what he usually did and turned his attention to whoever was occupying the space with him. “So tell me, how’d a gorgeous gal like you get tangled up with a fucker like Butcher anyhow?” She laughed softly but she didn’t look up at him this time. Mostly to hide the fact that she was blushing just a little. [Y/N] knew that she shouldn’t be feeling this way, by all accounts this man was still Soldier Boy. He wasn’t a good person, but the more she spent time with him the more she realized he was letting her see the man behind the persona and maybe.. maybe there was more than what he’s done in the past. After all she was preaching sympathy just moments prior. “Flattery will not get you out of the tech lesson, but since it’s updating you’ve got a little wiggle room.” She took a gentle breath before beginning to tell a very condensed version of events. “Becca, Butcher’s wife, she was my mom’s best friend. When my mom got killed in a car wreck, Becca sort of.. became my maternal figure.” Ben nodded, feeling some of the strings attached to his heart pulling. “I’m sorry about that, doll.” It was the least he could say. “Where the hell was your dad?” He asked, not knowing subtly if it were to bite him on the ass. She sighed gently. “Couldn’t tell you, never met him.” Ben could sympathize with that in a way, his own father being a piece of shit and all. “Sorry ‘bout that too.” He spoke, keeping his gaze on her own. She simply nodded before the phone’s screen lit up in the bright colors again, signifying that the software update had been completed. Picking the phone up, [Y/N] swiped up to begin the process of actually setting things up. “Okay, back to this-“ she spoke but was immediately cut off by Ben’s loud groaning. “Fuck sakes, is this really necessary?” He grumbled, which caused the woman next to him to roll her eyes. “You already know the answer to that.” Again he grumbled, acting like a mix between a grumpy old man and a stubborn child. “If this was forty years ago and some fine piece of ass was trying to tell me I had to do somethin’..” She turned and her [Y/E/C] eyes met his face with a pointed glare. There was a momentary pause as Ben contemplated whether or not to continue.

However, he was mischievous by nature and so he opted to continue on with his train of thought. “..I’d have grabbed her by her pretty little chin and talked her into getting on her knees so I could show her a better way to use that mouth.” [Y/N] again rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she brushed it off and moved on immediately though Ben was wearing a little smirk. “Picturing it, aren’t ya’?” He asked, clearly attempting to make the woman flustered. She turned her gaze back towards him with a blank expression upon her face. “Picturing me, punching you in the face? Absolutely I am.” She answered, which had Ben’s smirk fall completely. “You new age women, chicks in my day would’ve been creaming their panties at the chance to get with Soldier Boy.” Ben grumbled, irritation showing on his face. It was amusing to [Y/N] that he thought he’d get her to crumble so easily. Pushing herself up into a better position she’d lean the phone towards the Supe. “Alright, so I made two emails—one has the Soldier Boy name on it, just in case there’s.. I don’t know people that have business offers or something. Granted, that’s if we all live and you don’t get thrown into jail or whatever they do to other Supes and the other is for, well, more personal shit. That’s the one I was telling you about when I mentioned it initially, the one that’s tied into everything on the phone. I downloaded some stuff but now you need to try it.” She handed the phone over to Ben, praying he wasn’t gonna break this one. It was clear that he was trying to hold it gently, which would’ve made her giggle out loud—however the man was in an overly sensitive state and she wasn’t going to push that. “Alright, so tap the icon that says ‘App Store’ and wait for it to open.” [Y/N]’s voice was gentle and Ben nodded, putting his finger over the square with that name underneath it. However he left it there and so the apps began to all shake. “What the fuck is happening?!” He exclaimed, to which she gently moved her hand and pressed the button labeled ‘done’. Now the apps went back to being still and she sighed. Gently she grabbed his index finger and lightly pulled it towards the screen again, Ben wanted to grumble but he was too distracted by how her fingers felt against his own. Where his skin was rough, battle tested and calloused.. hers was soft, maybe a scar here and there but nothing compared to his and the contrast? It was more enjoyable than he’d ever admit out loud. [Y/N] pulled his finger down toward the screen and gently tapped it against the screen to open the app. “You just gotta tap, see.” She spoke, letting go of his finger. “Huh.” He replied, but it wasn’t very loud. “Now typing on these things is probably gonna annoy you, it annoys us all and we’re used to the technology. Just.. try to not freak out and break it yeah? Shit is easy for you to snap, given y’know..” After she said that, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. When she did Ben felt himself smirking just a little. There was a split second where their eyes met and lingered, before she spoke up again. “Alright, so if you just click on this one it’ll take you to the place where you can download them. I think most things that are necessary for now are already there but I wanted you to know how to do it, so.. you like sports right?” She asked, tone kept gentle. “Uh, yeah, obviously little less on the up and up these days.” He replied, to which she nodded. “Alright well type in ‘MLB’ right there in that search bar, click it first though.” [Y/N] explained and for a moment Ben just stared at her, as if she had three heads. Eventually though he moved his gaze to the phone and tapped the screen over the search bar, which brought up the keyboard. “So.. these fucking things are called apps?” He asked, typing the three letters slowly into the bar and then she pointed to the blue button labeled ‘search’, which he tapped before looking up at her again.

“Yeah, they have one for just about everything these days.” She replied, pointing to the button that said ‘get’. Ben tapped it and the symbol to signify it was downloading appeared. Once it had finished, she smiled slightly before reaching underneath his arm for a second. “So, to close an app, you just swipe up like this.” Gently she placed her thumb on the screen and swiped upward to bring the phone back to the Home Screen. “Now, that closes it for the moment. Swiping up in a short motion brings up all the open ones like this-“ she explained, demonstrating. “Once they’re up like this you can swipe up again and fully close them.” She closed all of the currently open apps to demonstrate to him how to do it. “You really think I’m gonna remember all this shit?” He asked, almost glaring when he looked in her direction. It was a lot of information to take in, so she took a gentle breath and locked the phone. “Okay, fair, let’s take a break then.” [Y/N] placed Ben’s phone on the bed between them and slowly pulled out her own. He couldn’t help it, curiosity took hold and he glanced over. “You can put pictures on that thing?” He asked, noticing her Lock Screen photo of a drawing of the moon. Quirking a brow for a moment, she then figured out what he meant. “Oh, yeah! You can. Did you wanna do that on your phone?” Her voice was sweet as their eyes met yet again, bringing back the slight tension that continued to linger between them. “Fuck it, shit looks better than whatever the fuck it comes with.” He replied after a moment or so of silence. “Do you have anything specific you want?” She reached up with her free hand and tucked some of her [Y/H/C] hair behind her ear. Ben’s expression was pensive for a moment or so as he tried to think of anything he’d like to have as a background on the phone. “I dunno, just find something badass—none o’ that girly shit.” She shook her head before thinking herself, trying to figure out something she could use. “I’m gonna go take a leak.” He spoke up, pushing his frame up and off of the bed before grumbling about something and making his way over to the bathroom door. Once he’d closed it, she thought for another second before smiling to herself. Lifting the phone up at a decent angle, she quickly opened the camera app and primped herself slightly—snapping a couple of pictures of herself right after. Flicking through the few she found the one she liked the most and made it his Lock Screen wallpaper. Thumbs darted across the screen and within another two minutes or so, spent entirely on Google, she’d found a nice photo of Ben’s shield. It worked well for a Home Screen.

It wasn’t long after that [Y/N] heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, seconds passing before the door was pulled open and Ben re-entered the bedroom. Lifting her gaze up to meet him, his green eyes held something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She gently laid his phone onto the mattress and kept her attention on him while he sat back down onto the bed. “Are we doing more of this shit? ‘Cause I think my fuckin’ brain might implode.” His voice was deep, housing a distinct rasp to it. [Y/N] couldn’t help but to chuckle at the old man antics he was displaying before answering the question. “No, I think we’ll save some lessons for another day. After all, there’s much more than just the phone you’re gonna need to learn.” After she’d spoken, he groaned for what felt like the millionth time. “It’s amazing how you bounce between acting like a senior citizen and acting like a teenage boy.” Her voice held a humorous tone as she again chuckled, it was Ben’s turn to now offer her a pointed glare but there was definitely a layer of amusement behind it. Just as he was about to offer up a retort, the bedroom door was pushed open and Butcher popped his head in. “Oi [Y/N], need ya’ to come help Frenchie with a little project.” His accent was thick and his eyes held a wild expression that was pretty standard for the man. [Y/N] sighed and slowly pushed herself up from the mattress, but turned towards Ben with a gentle smile. “If you have any questions just.. come find me.” He nodded, because his brain wasn’t sure how to react to the little smile on her lips. Sure there was a lot of unholy and downright vulgar thoughts swimming around in his noggin about her, there had been since he laid eyes on her—however there was something more that lingered and that was causing a short circuit in his mind. She turned back to the Brit and groaned. “This better not be anything messy because the last time-“ she was cut off by Butcher’s laugh. “It ain’t, I swear.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes as the two left the room, closing the door behind them. After a couple of minutes Ben remembered [Y/N] lecturing him about locking the goddamned phone, but she had left it unlocked. Pushing the button he heard the clicking noise, but tapped onto the screen to make sure he hadn’t accidentally turned it off somehow—and that’s when he saw it. There underneath the time and the other bullshit, was a picture of her and her smiling face. Since he was by himself, he didn’t have his guard up and his lips curled upward into a smile. “Pretty lil’ lady.” He spoke out loud, his heart feeling something he’d not felt in quite some time.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi guys! I am soooooo sorry about how long this took. Between writer’s block and my fear of it sucking, I was just struggling for a while. This is my first attempt at writing for Ben so if it’s bad, I’m sorry! He’s a more complex character to nail in writing and hopefully I’ll get better at it over time. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

Summary: after Beau’s divorce he and [Y/N] were involved, but he realized it wasn’t fair for many reasons and things ended in a mess, but his past comes back to bite when [Y/N] shows up in Montana as a kidnapping victim and the perpetrators are tied to the cartel that killed his old partner.

This will be a multi-part story, set after season three of Big Sky.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping scenario, sort of more tight spaces, regular network tv violence.

Mentions: Jenny Hoyt, Felicity [L/N], Grant (OC), two abductors.

If you missed it, here’s Part I.

Part II:

Now her ears were ringing again, but it wasn’t as intense as it had been before—the trunk muffling the volume of the loud pop somewhat. There had been a silence that overtook the air and it made her feel incredibly uneasy. Moments prior there was yelling and talking and chaotic noises and now there was just.. nothing. However after another small chunk of time, she could hear footsteps against the gravel. They sounded like they were coming.. closer? Oh god.. they were coming closer. She felt her heart thumping against her chest and the fear and anxiety surging through her body. Someone had inserted a key into the trunk and twisted it, the mechanism sort of loud in her ears. Slowly the trunk opened and she immediately winced as the sunlight came flooding into the area that had been entirely cloaked in darkness for so long. As she clenched her eyes closed to avoid further pain to them, she heard a strange man laugh. It sent chills along her spine and the hair on various parts of her body stand up on end. “Well, look who woke up from her nap.” He said, the tone of his voice mocking and she could basically hear the sneer in his voice. It made her stomach feel like it was tying itself in knots. There was a second laugh from further away.. it sounded familiar almost but she couldn’t place it. “Well, at least you can help me out a bit cause we hit a little roadblock and now we’ve gotta change vehicles. So c’mon,” he grunted, leaning forward to grab onto her arm. It felt like her entire body froze in place, which, made her harder to move. “quit resisting sweetheart, you don’t wanna catch another blow to the head do ya’?” His voice was incredibly unsettling. However her head was still feeling groggy from the first blow she’d presumably suffered based on his comment. Reluctantly she relaxed her body enough that he got to pull her forward enough to be close to the opening of the trunk. Next he placed his hand on the back of her neck, it felt cold and clammy and she shivered from disgust. It was clear he was guiding her into a sitting position almost—his other hand pulling her legs out. Despite the ‘nice’ front he’d been putting up, he wasn’t taking chances with her and scooped her body up onto his shoulder. It was her turn to grunt as she’d been hoisted in the air, the man’s footsteps crunching against the gravel again. One.. two.. three.. four.. counting his footsteps in her head was futile but it made her brain at least think that she was gaining important information.

He’d made roughly twenty steps when the motion came to a stop. Slowly she gained the courage to open her eyes, it still hurt but she held the reaction in so he wouldn’t notice she was looking around. Immediately her eyes fixated on the car behind them and her stomach completely dropped at what she saw—the red car that had been following her off and on for two, maybe three weeks. It turns out she’d been right to be suspicious and despite the opinion of those cops.. she wasn’t paranoid at all and yet somehow that wasn’t even the worst thing she saw. Not far from the front of said car was a man lying on the asphalt. There was a deep red soaking into it and the dirt surrounding it. She had been right again, but the realization of both things felt anything but great. Suddenly the other hand of her captor was felt on the side of her waist and again it made her skin crawl. Slowly he began to shift her body from his shoulder and she quickly shut her eyes again—hoping that the man didn’t notice she’d opened her eyes at all. It wasn’t hard to tell that she’d been placed into a standing position onto the ground, the rocks pushing into her bare feet. It was morning when she’d been stolen from her home after all, so she wasn’t dressed for this kind of outing. “Sadly for you, the new digs aren’t as.. cozy as the last ones.” His voice bordered on an almost sympathetic tone. [Y/N] so desperately wanted to ask what it was he meant by that, but, she also was scared to speak and say something that made them cut her loose and shoot her like they’d done the man. He didn’t speak further, instead he’d pulled her by her arm a couple steps forward but they were more so hops since her ankles were bound. “Hey, c’mere and help me lift her up.” He’d yelled and she could hear the sound of the second man’s footsteps approaching them by the soles of his shoes shifting the gravel underneath them. There was a second or so of silence before she heard the sound of the back of a truck being pulled down, great.. she was getting thrown into a truck bed. It didn’t take long for the second man to climb up into it and less time for her to be lifted up. Maybe she was delusional but his touch.. it was as if she’d felt it before—but that can’t be. Whatever they hit her over the head with was certainly doing a number on her ability to think clearly. Once she was up he’d roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the top of the truck bed. Less than gently shoving her to the bottom of it, which was hard on her knees. Not only was the hard material of the floor of it a rough landing, there was also treads of some kind and she felt either bits of rocks or bits of wood underneath her skin. As the second man maneuvered himself it was clear he was stepping on things that weren’t necessarily the bed of the truck.

Now his hand was on her shoulder and again, with a less than gentle approach he’d pulled her down to the floor of the truck bed. She moved a little but felt the edge of something that felt like wood, she was clearly wedged between lumber or something. It wasn’t long after that the second man jumped down and closed up the back piece of the truck, where the hell was she being taken? As if being stuck in the bed of a soon to be moving truck wasn’t bad enough, she then heard the sound of a tarp being pulled overtop of her—at least as high as the sides of the truck bed. At least it wasn’t directly on top of her but that wasn’t more comforting, not by much. They secured it and both of them seemed to walk off, their footsteps getting quieter and quieter. She shivered as the air began to have a chill to it, which was weird.. she never got cold during the night in Texas.

Helena, Montana.

Beau was about to finish the night at the station. Most of the people had left already, but he’d gotten himself stuck in deep thought processes about [Y/N] and her case or whatever it may be. He finally decided to pull his phone out of his pocket, because he’d been forced to put it away so he’d stop staring at messages—well, that and photos of himself and [Y/N] that he’d never exactly.. deleted. It was distracting him from other little jobs he’d had to do. Now though, he decided to call up an old buddy who was still active in the Houston PD. Lightly tapping the screen over his contact, the phone began to ring and Beau placed it against his ear. There was a couple rings before the man had picked up. “Well, well—Beau Arlen if it ain’t the one and only.” He said. It made Beau chuckle a little, sheepishly given the context of this call. “Hey, Grant. I hope I’m not buggin’ ya’ too much at this time.” Beau replied as he nervously scratched at the nape of his neck. “Not at all, I was just gonna start wrapping things up. Only got a few more hours on call but it’s slow.” He spoke, picking up that Arlen’s tone wasn’t necessarily even. “I can tell this isn’t a ‘call and check in and shoot the shit’ phone call. What’s on your mind Arlen?” Beau should’ve known, you can’t keep anything from a good cop. “You caught me red handed,” he joked with another nervous sort of laugh before having to ask Grant this question. “I just got a question, uh, so Felicity [L/N] contacted me earlier about.. about [Y/N] and said she’s missin’, that true?” Beau asked, waiting to see just how his old friend would react. It was a nervous laugh that came from Grant this time and that only served to make Beau more on edge. “Yeah, accordin’ to Felicity it’s true but.. you and I both know the reputation [Y/N] has Beau—hell you know better than me.” Grant spoke and his tone had indicated it was supposed to sound more like a joke. “She’s been off her rocker for a couple years now. Maybe she finally just.. snapped and left.” Beau scoffed immediately at this notion. “She wouldn’t do anythin’ without filling Felicity in, speaking of, she said her place was trashed and it looked as if there was a struggle? Tell me who leaves their entire life behind and wants to make a scene?” He’d withheld the bitterness for the most part, just wanting some answers. Grant’s own chuckle was sheepish now and it was clear that he didn’t want to be having this conversation. “Why do you care, Beau? Didn’t you ditch that girl like a bad habit and flee to Montana months later?” Ouch. Beau had to try and remain cool but the anger was bubbling up from his gut. “I ain’t gonna dignify that with a response Grant, if you guys aren’t gonna look into it then send me whatever Felicity gave you and I’ll look into this myself.”

It was obvious by the silence that he’d stunned his old friend with the request but it gave the man an excuse to continue not caring about [Y/N] or the fact that she was missing. “..whatever‘ll make you sleep better at night Beau. I’ll have a rookie gather it all and send it in the morning. Now, if that’s all, I got a job to do.” There was an air of annoyance around Grant’s tone and Beau was feeling pretty much the same. “Yeah, pleasure talkin’ again.” Beau replied before immediately hanging up the phone. He’d been gripping his phone so tight that his knuckles began to turn white. Gritting his teeth he felt that anger lingering, but it wasn’t all directed at his old friend. Some of it was directed towards himself, because Grant had made a point. He really had ditched [Y/N] like she was a bad habit.

“Beau, why are you doing this?!” [Y/N] sobbed, not even trying to hide the tears or the way her voice cracked. Beau remained quiet and continued packing up her things. He’d barely said anything to her since arriving back at his apartment. “Why aren’t you answering me, Beau? Why.. what did I do?” She was stuttering and stumbling over her words as the air was being forced from her lungs and then they tried desperately to regain some. However all it did was burn. Beau was throwing her clothes in a bag, his expression stoic. Moving around the bedroom and gathering the array of things she’d slowly integrated into his place over the past six or seven months. [Y/N] ran her hand through her [Y/H/C] hair out of desperation and frustration. She truly had no idea what prompted him to act like this and he’d not let her close enough to know if he was drunk—but it was Beau and he was almost always drunk to some degree. He’d thrown almost all of the clothes into this bag and now he moved to the bathroom, grabbing some of her products she’d left here since she spent so much time inside these walls. Of course she’d followed him in a desperate attempt to break through whatever shell he was throwing up. “Beau.. please.. just talk to me, we can talk this out or I can fix whatever I did-“ for the first time since beginning this rampage he turned to look at her and his expression was still hardened. “Just stop, [Y/N]. Stop. Look at you! You’re sobbing like someone died an’ we weren’t ever really together. You weren’t ever my girlfriend and you’re actin’ like I’m busting up a lifelong relationship.” His words were pointed and harsh, slurring a little which confirmed that he was indeed intoxicated. “You were fun, this.. whatever you wanna call what we had, it was fun. Now ya’ need to just suck it up alright?” Beau’s tone of voice matched his expression and it was breaking her heart more and more by the second. “I.. this was more than fun and you know it, Beau.. don’t downplay us because you’re feeling scared or insecure or-“ she tried to reason with him but he wasn’t having it. “I ain’t feelin’ nothin’. Don’t try and project your bullshit on me okay? Just..” he trailed off before he turned back around and grabbed more stuff to throw it in the bag.

[Y/N]’s heart was thrown against the wall, shattering into tiny bits and pieces as it connected and fell to the floor. “Beau please..” she felt so utterly pathetic for standing here and begging a man for a chance to fix something she didn’t even know she’d done wrong. It was incredibly out of character for her but it was a testament to how strongly she felt about this man. “..I love you..” she whispered, her voice breaking in a soft and sad manner. It made Beau freeze and for a moment he stopped dead in his tracks. It was the first time his face twitched but she couldn’t see it as his back was turned towards where she stood. Now an awkward and tense silence overtook the air and the two of them just became frozen seemingly within it. However, after what felt like an eternity Beau turned and exited the bathroom, maneuvering around her to get into the small living room. It was the last room that he needed to remove her presence from, which wouldn’t take long because it didn’t hold much. There was a million things she wanted to say, hell that she needed to say and yet her entire chest felt like it was gonna collapse. It took a minute, maybe two in order to grab things from the living room and toss them into a bag. Now he turned back to her, his expression still unreadable. Extending his arm outward, he held the bag out for her to take into her possession. She wanted to fight it, to prove that what they had was worth fighting for—but she couldn’t make the words come out. Not when she was staring at him with an expression like that on his face. Slowly she reached out, fingers trembling as she took the bag into her hand. [Y/N] parted her lips to try and say something, but again, no words would come out. Beau’s jaw tensed. “Goodbye [Y/N], have a good life.” He spoke before turning and walking into the kitchen and she felt like that phrase was formed into a blade. It was then shoved into her chest without a second thought, and so she turned and walked towards the door. For a moment she paused, lingering by it and silently sobbing. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the spare key he’d given her to immediately drop it on the counter. Sniffling to try and regain some semblance of control of her emotions, she went to leave but something stopped her from doing so. Now she reached into her other pocket and slowly pulled out a watch, Beau’s watch. He’d been complaining for weeks that it was broken and it was a gift from his brother so.. she’d taken it to get fixed. Lightly setting it down on the counter she then opened the door and left.

End of flashback.

Beau’s gaze fell to his wrist immediately, that very same watch strapped to it. He tortured himself for months after that night. It was the last time he’d ever seen [Y/N] face to face. “I’m gonna find you, sweetheart. I ain’t gonna stop until I do.” He whispered a promise into the emptiness of his office before grabbing his jacket and making his way to the door. Slowly he flicked the light off and closed the door—locking it immediately after. Somehow he’d force himself to sleep and tomorrow he could really start looking for [Y/N].

Unknown location.

It felt like it had been so long since the men who abducted her had walked off, of course she could open her eyes and look around, but that wasn’t gonna be of any use now. All she’d see was the contents surrounding her inside the bed of this truck and the tarp that was pulled across the top. She was entirely closed in, but she was cold. It was the consistent though in her brain and [Y/N] knew for certain this couldn’t be Texas. Even walking around in things like she had on—which was a pair of pyjama shorts and a small matching tank top—she never got a chill like this as night rolled in. It was at this moment that [Y/N] felt a surge of pure fear move throughout her entire body. Clearly she wasn’t anywhere near her home, in both the sense of being far from her physical house and apparently.. the state it was located in. Just then she heard the faint crunch of the gravel beneath feet. Whatever they’d done was over with and now they were coming back to take her.. somewhere. Gradually the noise of crunching gravel became louder, the two men getting closer and closer to the truck. Despite knowing it was likely impossible for her to snap or tear the duct tape around her limbs, she had to try. Turning her head a little bit, finally opening her eyes, she noticed a bit of wood that seemed jagged enough to do the trick. Unfortunately she had no idea how she’d get to it but she was attempting to workshop scenarios in her head. Now the two men had gotten close enough to where she could hear what they were talking about, but it seemed like nothing. They probably knew she was still gonna be awake and didn’t want her figuring anything out. Which meant in her eyes there was a chance, albeit a slim one, that she could make it out of this entire ordeal alive. It didn’t take long for them to get into the cab of the truck and soon the engine roared to life. Unfortunately for her plan, it was gonna be much harder for [Y/N] to get to that piece of wood. Despite that, she’d try—just not now. It was senseless to try at this moment because they were about to drive and she’d still have no escape. Man her head was starting to ache again. As they pulled back onto the road and began to drive, she knew it was only a matter of time before her body would give out on her again and she’d pass out. Which, right now, with shivers and chills moving through her body, that didn’t seem like such a bad thing.

However she wasn’t so lucky this time, she was still conscious to watch as the sun gradually disappeared from the sky and all that cloaked her was darkness again. Of course with a lack of the sun shining, the air only became more crisp and more chilly—the shivers moving throughout her body were causing her teeth to ever so slightly chatter. All the while it only served to make her body ache more from being stuck in the same position and her limbs getting stiff. Eventually, some mercy was granted for her and she eventually passed out yet again.

Helena, Montana—the next day.

Beau hadn’t gotten much sleep, but that was to be expected. All night was plagued by the same memories eating him alive and they were accompanied by the overwhelming sense of urgency and pure worry that had settled into his bones like a permanent ache. He’d been sitting outside in one of his deck chairs which was situated in front of his trailer. Truthfully he’d been so lost in all of his thoughts that the image of the sun beginning to rise in the sky, peeking above the tops of the trees startled him. “Dammit.” He muttered to himself, but he knew when he pulled into his driveway last night that he’d been getting little sleep if any at all. Slowly he pushed himself to a vertical position, slowly extending his arms upward so that he could stretch the stiffness from his body. Beau took one step towards his beloved truck, Pedro, but then figured it would be even more obvious he didn’t sleep if he showed up to work in the same outfit he’d worn the day prior. Grumbling to himself he pulled the door to his trailer open and disappeared inside, tossing his clothes around for a moment or two in an attempt to discern what items were clean. After about ten minutes he’d settled on a maroon button up shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He grabbed a different jacket just to further attempt to prove to those who’d be surrounding him today that he was still put together. Sighing as he ran a hand through his hair, he’d then grab his gun and slip it into its holster— immediately moving towards the door once it was secured. He’d definitely need a coffee or ten to get through today. Another grumble of nonsense slipped through his lips as he exited his trailer again, making the short walk to Pedro before slipping into the driver’s seat. Hands gripped the wheel tightly as he took a deep breath in, filling his lungs to the brim with air before slowly pushing it all back out. Beau slipped the key into the ignition and flicked his wrist in order to bring the engine of his beloved truck to life. Carefully he backed out of his driveway and began to drive in the direction of the station.

It was about 7:15AM when he’d arrived at the station, it was mostly a ghost town. No one really started filing in until around 7:30AM or later. Hell usually he’d be slipping in the front door at around 8AM—that man loved his sleep. Unfortunately when something was truly plaguing him, he’d show up like this, bright and early. There was no brightness to his eyes nor bushiness to his metaphorical tail. All that he felt was dread. His first stop was to the break room, firing up the coffee pot. He couldn’t stop anywhere for coffee that was actually good, he didn’t have time. While he was waiting for the water to heat up, he slowly pulled his phone out from his jacket pocket. Thumbs moving along the screen as he typed out a message.

Hey, Felicity—I made a call to a friend last night and Houston PD is sending me whatever you gave them and whatever else they scrounged up. I’m gonna have a look at everything and if I find anything at all, I’ll let you know right away. Sorry I know it’s early but I told you I’d reach out and didn’t wanna make you wait.

He pushed the button to send the text and locked his phone again. There was an overwhelming feeling inside of his heart to unlock it again and pull up those pictures he really should’ve deleted a long time ago. However that wouldn’t end well and his heart was already on the thinnest ice possible. Luckily for Beau, the water began to boil and the sound snapped him from that spiral.. at least for now. Turning on his heel he’d grabbed his usual mug and began the process of making up the godawful coffee the station had in the cupboard. It was now 7:40AM and he heard the front door open. Slowly he walked out of the break room hoping to beeline to his office, however the voice that called out wasn’t one that was expected. “You better have made a whole pot and not just enough for yourself again, Arlen.” He turned to face Jenny with an expression of surprise. “I didn’t know you dragged your hyde outta bed before eight.” He teased, though the usual glimmer of mischief in his eyes wasn’t present. Jenny made her way towards the break room, seeing a full pot of coffee. “Yeah well, I knew you were gonna need some help today after you texted me about HPD sending information over.” She spoke as she pulled her mug out and got herself some coffee too. Beau offered a genuine half-smile of appreciation towards his friend before making the way over to his office door. Slowly he pulled the key out of his pocket and unlocked it. “C’mon in when you’re good, it’s gonna be a long day.” Beau spoke in Jenny’s direction before turning and entering his office.

However, I’ve been feeling like finally writing for Soldier Boy and I had two ideas so I’m gonna throw a poll up like I did for the Beau series—however these will likely be one-shots unless I can find a way to make them longer.

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 at this point) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Supernatural level violence, the rest is pure fluff this go-round.

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, John Winchester, Lucifer

Here’s Part VI if you haven’t read.

They were just about to enter an abandoned building. Sam, Dean and [Y/N] were on a hunt. It was pretty run of the mill, just a couple of vampires. It wasn’t a large nest—just three or four. All three of them had exited the impala and walked around to the trunk. Dean had opened it up and pulled out three machetes. One was handed to Sam, one to [Y/N] and one for himself to keep. “Alright, let’s just get in and get out. I’m not trying to linger here too long. We got plans and all.” Dean spoke with a smile to [Y/N]. She looked towards him and smiled brightly. It was [Y/N]’s birthday. Sam chuckled softly shaking his head. “Yeah. We. Don’t rush straight to all the couple stuff and you inevitably making me wanna hurl.” Sam butted in, chuckling softly. “All night long.” Dean teased him, [Y/N] couldn’t help but to laugh. Gently pushing down the trunk of Baby, the eldest Winchester would take a gentle breath. “Alright c’mon you two—let’s just get this over with.” [Y/N] spoke before leading the trio towards the abandoned building. All three of them had done this more times than they could count. It was something that became so routine they could almost do it with their eyes closed. After taking a deep breath the group began making their way towards the door. Once inside they remained hush-hush, using hand signals to communicate, much like cops—it had been a running joke at this point. Sam went down the whole way to the basement, Dean took the middle floor and [Y/N] took the top floor.

Sam had found one vamp in the basement, successfully killing it without much fuss. [Y/N] found one on the top floor and it was pretty much the same experience: an easy kill. Almost like it was too easy. Sam didn’t hear much from the floor above, which had been a little strange. He began to head up slowly, just in case there was something going on so he’d be closer. She’d thought a similar thought from above and was headed down—if she was done there’s no way Dean wouldn’t be, this feeling intensified when she entered the little corridor to see Sam coming up from his floor. [Y/N] had a sinking feeling. “You done?” She whispered, her eyes gazing towards Sam and they were betraying her feelings easily. “Yeah. You also feeling like something is..” He was trailing off so she’d nodded and picked his sentence back up. “Weird? Yeah. Almost like this was..” she trailed off this time and it was the younger Winchester who picked the sentence up. “Too easy?” [Y/N] nodded her head. They’d been standing there for at least a minute or two and still there was no noise, no sign of Dean anywhere. Now she was feeling incredibly uneasy. “I say we go in, he can yell if things are fine but there’s no way we’d be done and he’s not.” Her voice betrayed how stressed she was, which to the brothers was an indication that there was something wrong. Sam nodded and slowly, they both pushed the doors open and made their way inside the main portion of the second floor. They’d taken a mere few steps inside when both of them heard Dean groan in pain. It made her heart began to race as both her and Sam began to rush toward the sound. It was still possible it was a small miscalculation but they both knew that was highly unlikely.

However they didn’t want to move too quickly and spook the vamp into doing something drastic. So they moved as they always would in these situations despite everything inside of [Y/N] telling her to run. After what seemed like years they rounded the corner and saw Dean struggling to fend off three vampires—this wasn’t making any sense. Both Sam and [Y/N] ran over gripping their machetes tightly. Sam took the one on the left and [Y/N] took the one on the right. Luckily it caught them off guard and that left just one for Dean to handle. How did they calculate things so incorrectly? She felt a little better when she caught Dean up and fighting in her peripheral vision. Sam was the first to finish off the vamp he was fighting, slicing its head clean off with a swift motion. [Y/N] was the next to do so, ducking an attempt by the vampire to grab her and quickly recovering to slice its head off from behind. Odds had swung in their favor but she still felt a lingering feeling of dread. It didn’t take long to figure out why, the second she turned around she saw Dean swinging his machete, but the vampire knocked it from his hand with a strong kick to his arm. Both Sam and [Y/N] began moving from the opposite directions towards Dean, but what happened next was unexpected—after ducking from a punch thrown by the oldest Winchester, the vampire grabbed his fallen machete. Just as his brother and his girlfriend had reached where he was, the unthinkable happened and in the blink of an eye the vampire buried Dean’s own machete into his chest. [Y/N] screamed his name and ran for Dean dropping her machete in the process, Sam doing the same but keeping his in hand because he knew that she was in distress. She’d reached the eldest Winchester before he’d even fully realized what happened. Hands pressing against his chest to stop the bleeding though she knew deep down that it couldn’t be stopped. Sam with the added rage came in swinging, quickly decapitating the vamp. [Y/N]’s eyes clouded with tears but she kept blinking them away.

Dean was coughing, gasping for air while his hand reached for hers. Sam had rushed over and knelt down beside Dean on the floor. Seeing his brother joining them, Dean grabbed onto his arm and slowly began to speak. “Take.. take care of her Sammy.” He uttered, his voice weak. Sam’s eyes filled with tears but he nodded slowly. “I will, Dean.” He spoke lowly. Both brothers’ gazes moved to [Y/N] and Sam grew quiet, just holding his brother’s arm. “Sweetheart..” Dean coughed and gripped her hand tighter, getting her attention fully. “I’m sorry I ruined your birthday.” He sputtered, making her cry even more. “You didn’t..” she lied, sobbing out her words. “I love you,” he coughed, voice getting more hoarse the more he spoke. “I need you.. to-to watch after Sammy.” She felt like a knife was being driven into her heart. “I know, I will baby. I’ll keep an eye on him..” She sobbed every word, holding back enough so it wouldn’t mess with her words. “I love you too Dean.” It was then that the grip he had on both his brother and his girlfriend began to lessen and lessen until both arms went entirely limp.

She gasped, sitting up in a panic. [Y/N] was short of breath as she tried to figure out where she was—looking around and seeing familiar walls. Cheap art bought at yard sales. She knew because she’d bought it for Bobby to make his house more ‘homey’. He hated it but he’d never outwardly tell her that. It was then that she relaxed just a little, she was okay… she turned to the side to see.. an empty bed? Oh god.. was that a memory? Where was Dean? She began to hyperventilate a little as she threw the comforter off of her body. Pushing herself up to her feet she began to feel panicked. “Dean..?” She whispered out, scared of the answers that waited further into Bobby’s house. “Dean!” She yelled out, moving into the short hallway and down towards the stairs. She began running down the stairs and yelling Dean’s name. Every instinct in her body being set off, but just as she got to the bottom of the stairs she saw Dean looking worried and jogging to her. “Dean!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and squeezing like he’d disappear if she let go. “I’m here baby, I’m right here.” His voice was low and gentle, he’d wrapped his arms around her and held just as tightly onto her as she was to him. Maybe more. “It was just a nightmare, shhh. I got you, you hear me? You’re safe. I’m safe.” He kept repeating those words over and over, holding onto her and rocking her gently. Sam and Bobby looked over with sympathy—the three of them had been in the kitchen while Dean was making her breakfast. He’d dropped the skillet onto the burner when he’d heard her frantically yelling his name. Bobby had quickly grabbed it to both spare the work Dean put in and to prevent his house from catching fire. Sam had sprung up but when he heard Dean soothing [Y/N] he kept back and gave them a minute to themselves.

She’d been silently sobbing in Dean’s arms as he soothed her, it took about ten minutes but he finally managed to calm [Y/N] down. “It’s okay, baby. Don’t worry.” He spoke with his face buried in her hair. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry..” she whispered a couple more times before really hearing what her boyfriend was saying and for the next few minutes there was silence. “Hey, I made you some breakfast. You hungry?” He asked softly to which she nodded. “Yeah, yeah.. thank you.” She replied, but her tone was soft—almost.. small. It made them all sad, hearing the woman they knew and loved sounding so.. broken. Dean kept his arm around her shoulders as they slowly waked towards the kitchen. Sam and Bobby tried their best to not look sombrely at her but it was impossible. She’d only been back for less than twenty-four hours. “Hi.” She spoke seeing Sam and Bobby standing there. “Hi kiddo.” Bobby spoke, hints of emotion in his voice. Slowly [Y/N] pulled away from Dean and walked to the man that had Ben one of her prominent father figures since her own had died. “I missed you.” She spoke softly and it could be heard when Bobby sniffled. “I missed you too kid.” He wrapped his arms around her gently and she did the same. They stood there hugging for a minute or two before she gently pulled back. Now she turned, giving her full attention to Sam. He’d been tearing up seeing [Y/N] and Bobby but the tears slowly fell now that she was looking at him. She laughed softly, which felt out of place but it was the kind of laugh that occurred when you’d done something that seemed impossible. She quickly walked towards Sam and wrapped her arms around him. “I missed you so much, [Y/N/N].” He’d spoke softly while gently while they hugged. She gave him a firm squeeze, almost like she was still questioning whether this was real or not. “I missed you too, Sammy—so much.” Her voice was gentle and they lingered for a moment or so before pulling back.

Just like the opposite ends of a magnet [Y/N] found herself moving immediately back to Dean. Which he welcomed with open arms—physically and mentally. After a year and a half he’d missed having her in his arms. He’d missed the way her skin felt, the way she smelled and the way that she brought peace to his soul. Sam and Bobby were happy to have [Y/N] back of course, but they were also happy to see Dean at ease and smiling for the first time in a year and a half. Slowly they both exited the kitchen to give them some time to talk. When Dean had gotten her back to the house the night before, she was exhausted and laid down and slept immediately. She sat down at the table, so Dean began to dish up the eggs and bacon he’d made for her. He’d also made her toast, just the way she liked it. [Y/N] smiled at him but the light didn’t quite reach her eyes. After all of the food was on the plate, he’d set it down in front of her and immediately sat in the chair next to her. “Thank you.” She spoke, the tone of voice still soft and sad. He watched her as she picked at the food, taking small bites of the eggs. There was a silence that hovered over the couple for a little bit, before Dean took a deep breath in. “You uh.. you wanna tell me what had you so scared?” He asked in a gentle tone, not wanting to push her into anything. She gulped a little harshly. Dean knew how much he was shut off for a couple days after he’d returned from hell and she’d been so patient with him, he wanted to offer her the same courtesy. “You don’t have to explain if you don’t want to though.” [Y/N]’s gaze fell to the table and she began to pick at the eggs again. Silence filled the air in Bobby’s kitchen, for minutes on end. Dean opened his mouth, about to say something, but she finally spoke. “It was.. it was one of the things Lucifer made me live in.” She replied finally, her voice was shaking a little bit. [Y/N] didn’t know whether she should even continue but.. she knew that Dean deserved the truth. She always asked him for it when these situations were reversed, so she needed to practice what she preached.

Dean swallowed hard, he should’ve known that’s what it was—he still had nightmares about his own experience. What was worse in this sense, was that he saw the absolute fear in his girlfriend’s eyes when she came flying down the stairs. It was a look he’d seen a few times and that scared him for what she was about to explain. [Y/N]’s voice still sounded so small, but she continued to speak. “It was my birthday, you, Sam and I were on a hunt. Just a quick one, we thought. Clearing a couple stray vamps and being done for.. whatever we had planned for my birthday.” Dean’s heart broke, hearing that she’d been made to believe, likely more than once, that something horrific happened on her birthday. Lucifer was a prick, always trying to take the deepest jabs at people. [Y/N] took another deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. He reached out apprehensively to lay his hand atop her own, supporting her without speaking as he didn’t want to interrupt. “It was a three story building, we split floors because we knew there was maximum three or four vamps. You know, just a quick stop and nothing more. Sam and I cleared our floors, we’d met on the staircase and both of us were confused.” She laughed in a sort of dry fashion. “You’d never be the last one done, usually you were the first.” Dean could feel her shaking a little and gently squeezed her hand. “We knew something was wrong from that fact alone, so we moved into your floor and started looking around. We.. miscalculated, three extra vamps were there somehow..” she trailed off and she felt sick to her stomach. Dean knew the feeling she had, he could read her face and her body language and gently pulled the fork from her hand and placed it onto the table—he quickly brought their hands together and intertwined their fingers. “I’m right here sweetheart. I know it must be so hard, but it wasn’t real and I’m right here.” He spoke in such a soft tone that it made her feel more emotional. [Y/N] felt the tears welling up in her eyes but she tried to just blink them away. Firmly she squeezed Dean’s hand, making sure he was indeed right there with her and that further broke his heart.

“Sam and I rushed over, each tackling one of the vamps and you’d been fine, you were fine when I looked at you and then it happened so fast..” she squeezed his hand a little harder, as if to ground herself in the reality of this moment. “He knocked the machete out of your hand by kicking your arm, you tried to land a punch but he ducked and then..” she felt the tears falling onto her cheeks. It was in this moment that she finally looked up, gazing into the green eyes of her boyfriend. It made his heart ache in his chest but he just wanted to let her get it out, however long that took he didn’t care. He was there for her, just like he’d always been there for her and just like she’d always been there for him. “..while you were standing back up the vamp grabbed your machete and.. and..” more tears fell from her [Y/E/C] eyes and Dean just wanted to wrap his arms around her and never let go. “…he buried the machete in your chest and I panicked, dropped my machete and ran for you. Sam ran too but managed to keep his weapon and kill the bastard. You grabbed my hand and then grabbed Sam’s arm..” Again she squeezed Dean’s hand, keeping herself grounded. “You made him promise to take care of me, you apologized for ruining my birthday and asked me to keep an eye on him. You told me you loved me and when I said it to you.. you let go.” Dean’s heart was truly broken hearing how [Y/N]’s words towards the end turning into sobs. “That’s when you woke up—you came running down the stairs because I wasn’t in bed with you.” He spoke softly. She nodded, looking back down at the table. “I thought it-.. it was a recollection dream and that you were really gone.” After she’d finished speaking Dean got up from his chair and quickly wrapped his arms around her body. She melted into his embrace and sobbed for a few minutes. He just kept repeating himself, “You’re okay”, “I’ve got you”, all the usual phrases just to remind her that he was very much alive. This lasted for a couple minutes before they’d separated and she sat back down, finally eating the breakfast that Dean had made for her—he kept by her, sitting back down in the chair where he’d been a little bit before. Once she was finished, Dean gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “If you can handle it, I wanna take you back to your.. place.“ His voice was unsure, but she nodded. “Yeah, yeah.. I wanna go.” Dean clearly had something he wanted to show her and that was enough for her to be okay with going.

A few hours later at [Y/N]’s place..

Dean held tightly onto [Y/N]’s hand as they walked through the gate. It was a gate that looked handcrafted, he’d stopped when he noticed that she was looking at it. “Bobby made it, Sammy did the flowers in the spaces.” He spoke softly, leaning into her and looking up at the gate. “Sunflowers, my favorite.” She spoke with a genuine sense of appreciation and love, moving her gaze over to Dean. His eyes were shining with emotion but mostly with love. They began to move into the main area of the place, where the coffin had been buried. It was surrounded with more sunflowers, some fake and some real. It made her feel a sense of warmth that she hadn’t felt in so long. Dean noticed this and it caused a smile to slowly spread across his lips. Alongside the flowers she noticed some signs, they looked hand painted and featured lyrics from some of her favorite songs. [Y/N] gently pulled Dean towards one of them, smiling as she read the lyric. All we are is dust in the wind. It was one of her favorite songs. He squeezed her hand which drew her from her thoughts. “I used to sit here and play it, over and over again until I was almost tired of Kansas.” There was a sad edge to his voice, but he didn’t need to be sad now. “Remember that day, jeez, we’d known each other about two weeks at that point.” He began explaining. “We were driving to help my dad with a poltergeist case in Memphis.” [Y/N]’s face lit up when she recalled the day, but he continued to speak. “We were listening to music and I was about to change the tape—“ she cut him off affectionately. “..but I made you leave it because ‘Dust In The Wind’ came on and you groaned initially.” She spoke with a gentle chuckle after. “I did, yeah. I’m glad I listened, cause looking over at you in the passenger seat.. sun shining on you through the windshield, singing that damn song—that was the moment I really fell in love with you.” Dean’s voice held so much emotion and she fully turned to look at him. [Y/E/C] eyes brimming with tears. “You never told me that.” She whispered, her heart soaring. He squeezed her hand again while taking her other one into his free hand. There was a comfortable silence that surrounded them for a minute or two, but he wasn’t done. “I wanna read you something.” He spoke up, finally breaking that bit of silence. This gained more interest from [Y/N] and so she nodded. “Okay.” Dean wore a smile but she could tell he was feeling a bit nervous. Slowly he lead her towards the hole in the ground where she’d emerged from less than a day ago. He released his grip on both of her hands and moved toward the hole. Grabbing a shovel, he began to dig—just enough to widen the hole. Once he’d finished with that he tossed the shovel up into the grass. Slowly he bent down, grabbing two things from what was left of the coffin. One thing he slipped into the pocket of his coat and the other he kept in hand, pulling himself back up to the level ground. Dean walked back over to where [Y/N] stood with an envelope in hand, which she could see hand her name on the outside. “I wrote this the day after.. everything. I buried it with one of your favorite dresses, because they were two things that connected us.” He spoke, ripping the envelope open and pulling out a letter. Again she felt tears in her eyes, but she stayed quiet as she still sensed his nervousness. Dean cleared his throat before beginning to read.

“[Y/N/N], I will never have the words to explain how much you made my life better. You know I’m not good with saying how I feel, though I’ve gotten better at it thanks to you. I’ve been sitting here lost in every moment we shared, regretting that I never said ‘I love you’ as much as I should’ve. It was so hard for me to say it, not because I didn’t love you but because everything I’ve loved or held close.. they’ve left, or they’ve died and now.. you sacrificed yourself to spare me from making an impossible choice—but you also saved Sam from having to endure so much pain and torture and I.. I am in so much pain and yet it just made me love you more. I’ve spent so long taking care of Sammy, I never knew what it was like to be taken care of, not until I met you. Up until the last moment.. you put me and my needs above your own. God you’re.. you were.. so selfless. You always told me that perfect didn’t exist but I saw it every time I looked in your eyes. I woke up today hit with the weight of not having you next to me, your hair not sprawled across my face and in my mouth, no warmth where the brightest bit of sunshine usually laid. I was also hit with all the things I’ve never said to you, like, driving down the road to Memphis and watching you singing along to Kansas, that was the moment I fell in love with you. I never told you that dad told me he knew I was gonna spend the rest of my life trying to keep up with you. He told me that I looked at you the way he looked at Mom and that bastard didn’t like many people.

I never got to tell you how you made vanilla and lavender my favorite smells, it just smells like you. When we had to be apart I actually used to swipe your perfume and spray it on my shirts so I had a piece of you with me. Sam made fun of me for it when he found out but I never cared. I slept last night holding onto one of your shirts for that same reason. God, sweetheart I don’t know how I’m gonna do this—I can’t live without you. You’ve been my anchor and the beacon of light in my sea. You’ve got me writing mushy crap and feeling every bit of it. [Y/N] you got under my skin in the best way and I feel so empty without you here. Sam and I, we’re gonna get you back. I don’t know how, I don’t care how long it takes, we’re gonna get you back and I’m gonna say all of this and maybe more.

Another thing I never told you, when I got myself nabbed by that djinn, my dream world was that damned apple pie life I always told myself I never wanted. You knew that much, but what I never told you was.. that next week, I went and bought you a ring. I didn’t know when or where, but I was gonna give us just a little bit of that apple pie life. I kept it hidden at Bobby’s so you wouldn’t find it. Baby I was so scared to ask you that question and as I’m sitting here without you.. it’s the one thing I wish I’d asked the most. It doesn’t matter when, or where, or any of that. When I get you back, I’m gonna ask you and we’re gonna get that slice of heaven. I love you, [Y/N/N].”

She’d been standing there, listening to him read this letter and feeling so many emotions swirling inside of her mind. However that wasn’t the end of this—slowly Dean got down on one knee and pulled out a small velvet box. “I hope you never question if you’re loved, cause if you do it means I’m failin’ and I’d be disgusted with myself. [Y/N] [Y/M/N] [Y/L/N].. will you marry me?” His voice was the shakiest she’d ever heard it in all the years she’d known him. Tears flowing from both of their eyes as she nodded profusely—smiling and lunging forward into his arms. “Yes, yes of course I’ll marry you Dean!” His arms wrapped around her and held her as tightly as he could to his chest. “Alright let me put the damn ring on you.” He muttered with a chuckle. She pulled back and gave Dean her hand, watching as he removed the diamond ring from the box and slid it onto her ring finger. It was a simple ring and the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Once it was settled on her finger, he gently pushed himself back up to his feet. [Y/N] admired the ring before she flung herself into Dean’s arms again, their lips crashing into one another’s with a surge of emotions—love, joy, hope. For the first time in a year and a half, things were finally looking up.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hii everyone! I am SO sorry for the long wait! I had wicked writer’s block and had to combat a slew of other things but I hope you enjoy the chapter! This story will be drawing to a close soon, I’m debating if I wanna do one more part and an epilogue or a few more parts. I appreciate everyone’s love and support on the story! 🤍

Part I.

Summary: after Beau’s divorce he and [Y/N] were involved, but he realized it wasn’t fair for many reasons and things ended in a mess, but his past comes back to bite when [Y/N] shows up in Montana as a kidnapping victim and the perpetrators are tied to the cartel that killed his old partner.

This will be a multi-part story, set after season three of Big Sky.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Reader

Warnings: kidnapping, being stuck in a confined space, (if you’re ever reading one of my stories and there’s something you think should’ve been included in the warnings—comment or message me!)

Mentions: Jenny Hoyt, Cassie Dewell, Carla, Felicity [L/N]

Part I:

It was dark. That much she knew from the second she opened her eyes and the scenery didn’t seem to change. Now there was a headache ringing in her head, feeling like a jackhammer against the back of her skull. Blinking furiously to attempt to force her eyes to adjust faster, they’d just started to when there was a loud clunk. It sounded like.. a car door maybe? Slowly her eyes adjusted to the darkness that wrapped around her like a cold blanket. Unfortunately there wasn’t much to see—despite the clearer vision, wherever she was hadn’t offered any clues. Now she attempted to move, which is when another unfortunate realization set in: her hands were behind her back. Held together somehow, it felt like duct tape. What the hell was going on..? All of a sudden her theory about the car door was confirmed, the engine of whatever vehicle she was in roared to life and they pulled out of wherever they’d stopped. Desperately she tried to rack her brain, trying to remember what led up to this moment. This only resulted in irritation towards herself as she couldn’t remember.. maybe she was drugged? Who the hell would wanna do something like that?

Helena, Montana.

Beau was seated at his desk, the door to his office ajar. All he was doing, which is what he’d been doing all morning, was catching up on paperwork. It had been a quiet morning around the Sheriff’s Department, so he begrudgingly decided to catch up with the paperwork he’d been very behind on. Once the afternoon rolled around, he’d managed to get about half of it done. That’s when his phone buzzed, the noise louder because it was lying atop his desk. Garnering Beau’s attention, he laid the pen down for a moment and picked up the device. Slowly reading the preview, he was confused and so he put in his passcode and opened the messages app. Clicking the new text, now the full thing could be seen.

Hi, I don’t know if you even have the same number. It’s been.. a long time. Anyway. I didn’t know who else to reach out to but something is desperately wrong. Beau, this is Felicity—[Y/N]’s sister. She’s missing.

Beau felt his heart start to race in his chest. It was a name he’d seen many times over, but he hadn’t seen her in person for about two and a half years. Quickly he typed a response, his mind racing a mile a minute.

Hi, Felicity. This is Beau I still have the same number. What do you mean she’s missing? How long?

He didn’t know whether or not she’d reply quickly and so he picked the pen back up and tried to focus on the report he’d been writing up before opening that text. Scribbling out a sentence or two before his mind drifted back to the woman he’d tried his best to not call or text for so long.

Two and a half years prior.

“You know darlin’ you don’t have to do all this—I’m alright really.” Beau speaks, looking at the woman who was cleaning up the kitchen area of his tiny apartment. She smiled, her [Y/H/C] hair tied in a messy bun so it wouldn’t get in her way. Right now she was scrubbing the countertops that looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks. “If I don’t, no one else will.” She replied, without looking back at him. He’d shake his head before taking a step towards the kitchen but he’d be met with her [Y/E/C] eyes narrowed at him. “Didn’t I tell you to stay outta my way, cowboy?” She asked, pointing her finger directly towards him. Both of his hands were throw up in mock innocence. “Maybe I just wanted to give you a kiss huh? It’s not everyday a man’s got a pretty lady all dressed down and yet still lookin’-“ he’d paused his own sentence to whistle lowly. “-so fine.” [Y/N] playfully rolled her eyes before walking over to where the man stood. “You’re not distracting me. I’m getting this done today, so, I don’t know—go out. Get some lunch or somethin’ or y’know.. go for a walk.” She replied, lifting her head to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Immediately after, she turned and went back to the sponge and the cleaner that was on the counter. Gripping the bottle and spraying a bit of the liquid-turning-foam onto the surface of the countertop and beginning to scrub. Beau stood there for a minute dumbfounded, why such a beautiful woman would stand here and clean for someone so.. messy, in every sense of the word. It confused him. It also made him sad, because he knew what it was leading to and what would soon become of this.. situationship. “Arlen stop starin’ at my ass before I start slapping you with the broom. Out!” She said over her shoulder, to which he couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m goin’ sweetheart. I’m goin’!” He walked down the hallway towards the bedroom, needing to get dressed before heading out.

Flashback over.

Two more buzzing sounds broke him from the memory, sighing at how life had played out. It was Felicity again. Quickly his eyes looked over the two texts she’d sent to him, his heart sinking.

Oh thank god. I know.. I know things ended kinda badly with you two but the cops here don’t seem to be doing much. She’s been gone for three days and they don’t seem to think it’s anything serious.

Beau her place was trashed. It looked like.. it looked like she tried to fight whoever took her and I’m terrified of what’s happening to my little sister. Clearly you still care.. I know you moved states but if you could call them.. push them into taking this seriously. I don’t want to find my sister as a corpse.

Beau sighed heavily, the last sentence of that text bringing an entire flurry of emotions swirling down on him. It was true, things didn’t end the best between them but that didn’t mean he stopped caring. Actually he’d been checking in on her via the internet for a while. Every three to four months, after the initial six months of ‘separating’ or whatever you’d wanna call it. Suddenly with this reality thrown at him, the gravity of all that went wrong hit him like a ton of bricks. Picking up his cell phone he typed a quick reply, because truthfully.. he wasn’t sure what he could do.

Alright. I’ll make some calls and I’ll try to get back to you later. If it isn’t later I’ll text tomorrow okay? I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know what I’m gonna be able to do—but I’m gonna try.

Arlen locked his phone and placed it back onto his desk. Dragging his palm over his face, he’d felt added tension onto his shoulders. He’d been so deep inside his own head that he didn’t hear Jenny knock. Seeing the look on his face, she stepped in and closed the door—the noise finally making him look up again. “Jenny, hey.” He spoke, trying to play things off but you’d think he’d learn that things weren’t that easy with Jenny Hoyt. “Cut the shit, Arlen. I know you better than that so spare me the cat and mouse game. What’s wrong?” She gazed at him with a stoic expression, crossing her arms and waiting for him to talk. “Jenny, no-“ he tried to speak but she cut him off immediately. “If you tell me nothing I’m gonna shove my boot so far up your ass you’ll taste the dirt from the farm I was just on.” Nothing about her demeanor changed. Sighing, the sheriff knew he’d been beat. “I just got a couple texts from.. someone I haven’t heard from in a while.” He began, hoping she wouldn’t pry but again, he should’ve known better than that. “An ex? Former convict? What is it Beau? You’ve got that pensive look on your face and I know that means something is seriously wrong.” She read him like a book and so he finally just gave in. “An ex’s sister, uh.. she was my first anything after Carla and the divorce. Man, I was fallin’ hard but I knew it wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to try and build something when I also still wanted to fix things with Carla. It wasn’t fair to string her feelings along when I was so off the deep end. Being drunk almost every hour of every day. I was a wreck and yet she never judged me. I was difficult but so was she, just in a better way.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair from frustration. “So what happened? Why’d the sister text you?” She asked, leaning against his desk on the side and giving him time to collect his thoughts. “Apparently.. she’s missin’. Three days and the cops ain’t takin’ her sister seriously. She uh.. she said [Y/N]’s place was trashed like she was in a.. fight.” Beau explained, the look of worry extremely evident on his face. “Okay, so the sister wants you to look into it? I mean, I sympathize but if she’s in Texas.. there isn’t much you can do from here.” Jenny voiced the same thing he’d told Felicity in the texts. “I know. I’m gonna.. make a few calls to some old friends. See what information they can give me.” He replied, head hung lowly. “Well.. you know if you need help, Cassie and I, we’ve got your back. We’ll help however we can.” She offered, which he always knew but it was nice to have the reminder. “Thanks. I’ll.. uh, I’ll get back to you on it. Alright?”

Unknown location.

Slowly her eyes opened again, making it clear she’d either fallen asleep or passed out—the distinction impossible to make. Everything around her was still dark—absolutely nothing had changed, the vehicle’s engine still roaring as they moved down what she assumed was the interstate. They seemed to be moving faster than when she’d been awake or conscious last. Where the hell was she being taken? Once more, that ringing and pain in her head came. Testing the waters [Y/N] attempted to move her legs, but found that they too were bound—likely with duct tape just like her arms. It was clear that she was locked in a trunk, being driven somewhere by.. someone. Maybe multiple people. Blinking harshly she was trying to remember what happened, remember how she ended up here. Closing her eyes to try and think back to something, anything other than waking up at random intervals in complete darkness. Over and over she held her eyelids closed, tightly, trying to force herself to remember. Each and every attempt was unsuccessful and this was eating at her—she was growing more and more frustrated with herself. Why couldn’t she just remember? Suddenly the car went over a bump and she did her best to avoid hitting her head on the top part of the trunk. She had no idea how long she’d been in here and maybe what was worse—no idea how long she would be in here. Now she began thinking of her sister. Surely Felicity knew she was gone. [Y/N] had woken up in this total darkness probably three or four times in total, but she had no idea how long she was out each time she slept or lost consciousness. Again she held her eyelids tightly closed, hoping that she could somehow trigger any kind of memory. Silently pleading with herself to think, to remember. Suddenly, only in flashes, she began seeing images of herself inside her apartment. Cooking? It was.. lunch? No. It was.. dammit [Y/N] think. It was breakfast! She’d just gotten up, she didn’t work that day. She tried to envision the date, but it was just a blurry spot in her head. Next image that flashed was her looking outside through the glass of her sliding door. What was she looking at? Despite trying to look out the door, all that she saw was a blur. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn’t focus on whatever was outside that day. Shifting her attention back to herself, trying to focus on the expression upon her own face. It was unreadable. It wasn’t any kind of joy though, that she knew. Why was she looking outside? As she tried to focus more, everything behind began fading. She was passing out again. Fuck.

Back in Helena.

Beau had somehow made himself focus on finishing up the rest of the paperwork. It took longer than normal, his mind often drifting to either the situation in those text messages or just [Y/N] in general. After the last file was closed he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air before pushing it back out again. There was so many thoughts swirling inside of his head. Why wouldn’t the cops be taking a disappearance seriously? Especially if her place was trashed. Who would want to take [Y/N]? Had she gotten tied up with some tough crowd? Maybe a boyfriend? Just that thought alone made him uncomfortable. Why did he feel so uncomfortable thinking about her with someone else? It wasn’t exactly a foreign feeling. He’d seen a couple photos of her and a guy on his periodic check-in about a year ago? They were never photos that she posted herself, which he thought was weird. Sighing he picked his phone up from the desk, again putting the passcode in and opening up Facebook first. He’d rarely used any of these sites and that was probably the reason she’d never taken him off of her friends list. Thumb tapped the search bar before both moved across the keyboard to type her name: [Y/N] [L/N]. Clicking and being taken right to your profile. Despite the more serious reasoning as to why he was looking her up, he couldn’t help but to click on the image used for your profile. Beau couldn’t help but smile at the photo when the image was enlarged. He’d taken this photo in his old apartment. He’d been lying down after mixing alcohol, which of course made him sick. Once [Y/N] had arrived at his place, she was immediately in the bed with him. She had sat against his headboard and made him lay between her legs, but he’d chosen to lay sideways with his back on her thigh and her opposing leg over his waist—he didn’t want to be laying in a way where he couldn’t see her face. After a while she figured he’d fallen asleep and so she turned to look out the window. It was sunrise because he’d called her in the middle of the night. It wasn’t the first time, not the last either. There was just.. something about the way she looked in the fresh bits of sunlight and so he took a picture. It was art then, damn sure was now too. Again Jenny had walked in but it was clear he was lost in a memory.

Eventually she needed to break the moment, so she spoke lowly. “Beau..” he looked up at his friend and quickly wiped the tears he didn’t even know had formed from his eyes. “Hey again. You got something?” He asked after clearing his throat. Jenny simply shook her head before closing the door much like she had earlier. Beau’s cloudy green hues looked back down to his phone and this prompted Jenny to come and lean against the side of his desk yet again. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” She inquired, gesturing towards his phone with her head. Again Beau sighed, handing his phone to the blonde. His palm running down his face again while her gaze moved toward the screen, [Y/N]’s picture still up. “This her?” She asked and she didn’t need to specify. “Yup, that’s her.” His response was dry, not because he was annoyed with Jenny but because he was frustrated with a whole lot. So many feelings had been stirred up with those texts earlier and now that he didn’t have something taking up half of his focus.. all he could do was spiral. “You call anyone yet, see what’s going on?” Jenny asked, handing him back his phone. “Not yet. I was just about to look at her page to answer a question I had but.. got stuck.” His voice was quiet. It was hard for Beau to open up about some things and that wasn’t new information to his friends. When telling stories to Jenny, Cassie or others on occasion he’d just say “a lady I was seein’ then” because saying her name was hard. “Something’s bugging you about this.. what’s on your mind?” Jenny knew him well, but Beau wasn’t sure how much he wanted to say right now. “Too many things are buggin’ me Jenny.” He stated plainly, perhaps a little sharply. “Sorry that was harsh. I just.. I’ve been burying these feelings for so long, not wanting to deal with ‘em and now they’re gnawing at me.” Jenny nodded and placed her hand onto Beau’s shoulder. “Well.. just remember you aren’t alone.” She squeezed his shoulder for emphasis before slowly standing upright again. “I’m going to see Cassie, talk over this case she’s dealing with but if you need us.. just text or call.” Jenny offered the lifeline again and Beau simply nodded. She left his office and went on her way as Beau again sighed. Minimizing the photo, his attention moved back to her profile. Scrolling back to where he’d left off the last time.

There was no sign of the guy he’d seen about a year ago, he hadn’t seen him the last time he looked either but she never posted him anyway. It was always a friend. Slowly he scrolled up, trying to see if anything seemed out of place. Beau’s swiping stopped at the last post she’d written which was five days ago. Eyes scanning the status and brows furrowing with worry. Slowly he read it aloud. “Exhausting week, work’s been crazy. I’ve been seeing that red car following me again but the cops say I’m just being paranoid. Who knows, maybe I am? I don’t know anymore. I also don’t know why I’m including this in my FB post. Anyway hope everyone is having a better day than me.” Beau knew the exact reason she included it. He’d always told her if something really felt off, document it somewhere, somehow. “What is going on with you darlin’? Where are you?” He spoke out loud, taking a quick screenshot of the post.

Unknown location.

[Y/N] felt her body jolt forward which caused her to wake up again. It was a harsh jolt and she heard the engine running but they weren’t moving. Something unexpected had caused the vehicle to come to a stop. She could hear muffled talking. It was.. it was difficult to focus again. All she could figure out was that the voices were male. At least two, but maybe three? Hearing any of the words that were being said was impossible. Both because they were muffled by the trunk and because that ringing in her ears was back. [Y/N]’s face contorted in pain, trying to just ride it out and hope it wouldn’t last for long. Maybe a minute or so went by and it finally subsided. Now the voices were yelling and all of a sudden there was a loud POP—was that a gunshot?

Author’s Note: Hello! Sorry this took so long, I needed to just get my head on correctly. I’m gonna add my tag list here, but since this is a Beau fic and not Dean, if you don’t want to be tagged in this series just comment or message and let me know! I hope you guys like it and I’m excited for my first Beau series. 🩷

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 at this point) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Supernatural level violence, fluff towards the end.

Mentions: Bobby Singer, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer

Here’s Part V if you haven’t read.

Part VI:

Dean was bewildered, looking at Bobby with an expression that was all kinds of confused but also verged on the side of hope—though he’d refuse to admit it out loud. “You’re gonna help us.. what’s in it for you?” Sam questioned, just as confused as his brother. “What? I can’t simply want to help out?” Crowley quipped back despite everyone knowing it was a load of crap. That was given away by the expressions of both Winchesters. “Bobby, a word.” Dean spoke with a tone that was unamused but also cracking with bits of desperation. Bobby and the boys walked toward the kitchen, leaving Crowley to muse over the contents of Singer’s living room. Once all three were standing by the kitchen table, the eldest brother began to speak. “What the hell Bobby?!” Dean spoke, dragging his hand along his face. “Listen kid, I ain’t got time to sugarcoat this so I’m just gonna come out and say it. It’s been a year and a half, we’re runnin’ outta options here.” Bobby explained, causing Dean to physically wince and Sam to sigh. “I know it’s not ideal, but boys.. Crowley may be our last hope of getting [Y/N] outta hell. We’ve exhausted all the options..” Bobby was trying to be delicate as he spoke, Dean wincing again. It wasn’t hard to see that he was struggling. Sam spoke this time, seeing that his brother was teetering on the edge of losing it. “How do you know we can trust him, Bobby? He isn’t exactly the Queen of England.” Now it was the older man’s turn to sigh. “Don’t ya’ think I know that? If he crosses us, we gank the son of a bitch.” Singer was exhausted, the bags under his eyes a clear indication of lack of sleep. He’d been the one more often than not researching things, spells, ways to break someone out of hell. [Y/N] was like a daughter in his eyes, he’d made sure she was taken care of more often than not—just like he’d done with Sam and Dean.

“Tick tock ladies! You’re wasting time!” Crowley yelled from the living room, holding one of the family photos from Bobby’s shelf in his hand. It was from a couple years ago—both Sam and Dean, [Y/N] and Bobby. It was a happier memory, all four smiling towards the camera. Sam was the first of the three men in the other room to speak up. “Listen Dean, I think.. I think we do this. Bobby’s right—we don’t have many options left. If he screws us over, we make him pay for it but.. the longer we leave her down there-“ Dean’s eyes snapped up to Sam’s and the younger of the two immediately stopped talking. “You don’t think I know that?! You don’t think I’ve been kept awake at night thinking about what he’s doing to her.. what he’s making her do? I know first hand, okay. I just-..” Dean interrupts himself and it’s apparent he’s about to breakdown. “Listen boy, this may be the last shot we’ve got to bring her home.” Bobby spoke solemnly as he put his hand on Dean’s face. They stood there for a moment before the elder Winchester sighed. “Okay.” He said, looking at the floor and trying to keep any semblance of composure. “Okay.” Sam repeated. All three men stood there for a moment, mostly so Dean could pull himself together. It had been about five minutes before all three of the men filed back into the living room. Crowley was now seated on the couch, legs crossed and looking utterly bored. “Oh look, did the Brady Bunch finally come to a decision?” He asked, his accent strong on each word. Sam rolled his eyes and Dean just glared at the King of Hell. “What do you want—for helping us get her out?” Sam inquired, knowing there was something that Crowley wanted or needed from them. Before Crowley could speak, Sam added another part to his statement. “Tell the truth this time, we don’t have time to waste.” Crowley couldn’t help but to chuckle, his gaze moving towards all three of the men.

“Right now? Nothing. However in the future I’ll need assistance and who better to have an I.O.U. with than the bloody Winchesters?” He laughed again, and this brought a sense of unease between the brothers and Bobby too. “Vague. Of course.” Dean spoke, irritation bubbling in his tone. “Listen if you want to leave the broad to rot then by all means!” Crowley bit back and this caught Dean off guard. He tried to let the angry side be the side that came to the forefront but it wasn’t. Instead the sad part of him was what showed itself. “Don’t. Don’t you talk about her like that.” Dean’s voice was shaky, the emotion clear in his voice despite the attempt to conceal it. Sam shifted awkwardly on his feet, trying to move it along. “So—how are you gonna bust her out?” He asked, unsure if they needed to play a part in whatever was about to happen. Crowley stood up, straightening his black jacket. “Well, since it was an odd little kidnapping and she didn’t have to technically die.. there’s no need to dig up a body. Did you lot make some kind of grave for her regardless?” Crowley inquired, mostly looking at the elder Winchester. “I did. Why? What could you need from that?” Dean asked, not thrilled with her place being exposed to just anyone. “I don’t need anything sunshine. That’s where you’ll find her when I’m done. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have a bird to free from a cage.” Once Crowley had finished his sentence, he vanished. Dean sighed, throwing his gun onto Bobby’s coffee table. “I’m gonna go to.. her place. I don’t know how long this little trip of his is gonna take but I need to just.. be alone. I’ll wait there.” Dean spoke, his eyes gazing down at the worn out wooden floor. “Alright. Take your gun, take one of those blades just in case. We don’t know whether that slimy bastard was telling the truth.” Bobby replied, leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen again. “Dean, I really think that I should go with you-“ Sam began. “No. Sammy, I know you’re worried about me. I know. I’ve just gotta clear my head. I’ll take my phone, my gun, the blade—everything. I’ll be okay.” Dean spoke, trying to reassure his younger brother. Sam wasn’t convinced but he knew better than to keep pushing. “Okay.” He replied, looking at his older brother with sympathy.

Meanwhile in hell..

[Y/N] wasn’t sure how long she’d been here, time simply didn’t exist in this place. She was exhausted, her body aching and loaded with scars. Lucifer knew exactly how to get to her, which wasn’t rocket science—for whatever timeframe she’d been imprisoned for, she was living the same few scenarios repeatedly. Right now, it was probably her least favorite one. She was in the woods, running, trying to move as fast as she could. Running as if her life depended on it. Because it did. It wasn’t exactly dark but it wasn’t light either, probably around sunset time. She couldn’t stop running even if she wanted to, because rational thought didn’t exist here. [Y/N] didn’t know she was in hell during these scenes of Lucifer’s crafting. All she knew was that these situations felt completely real. Every time. Occasionally she turned her head to look behind her, to see if what she was being chased by was still following her. Finally her feet stopped and suddenly they’d felt like they were cemented to the ground. [Y/N]’s lungs were burning and she wasn’t sure how long she’d been running. It felt like her bones had become cinder blocks and she was finding it difficult to even stand. Suddenly a twig snapped and she turned quickly to look in the direction it came from, but, then another snapped and it was in a complete opposite direction. “Well, well, well. Look who finally stopped running.” Her eyes went wide, watching as the entity that the voice belonged to emerged from the bushes. “Dean?” [Y/N] questioned, shock written on her face. “In the flesh sweetheart.” He replied, but something was.. off. She knew in her gut that something was wrong, from the tone of voice Dean was using and the way he was moving. “How did you know I was running? I mean, besides the obvious.. how did you know I’d be here?” She asked, though the pit forming in her stomach was giving her answer she didn’t like. “Oh, you don’t know?” He asked, everything about his tone sending uneasy chills throughout her body. “What? Dean, you’re scaring me. What’s going on..?” She questioned. Every instinct was telling her to run away, but in her heart she wanted to believe this was a mistake. [Y/N] wanted to believe that she was just scared from whatever was chasing after her and that was making her see things that weren’t there.

“What’s going on?” He asked, his green eyes dark and unreadable. He laughed dryly and she felt her hair stand up on end. “Dean..” she spoke, her [Y/E/C] eyes scanning his face for any sign of the man she knew and loved. He remained silent but took a step towards her, which caused her to step backwards. It was at this point that her heart began thumping against her chest. [Y/N] turned to walk away, but a hand firmly gripped her arm and stopped her in her tracks. “Where did you think you were going [Y/N/N]?” He asked, with the grip that he had on her arm getting firmer. She tried to pull her arm away from Dean, but that only made him hang on tighter. “I just.. ow, Dean you’re hurting me. Please.” She tried again to free herself but it just wouldn’t work. “Now now sweetheart, you’re tough. You can handle it.” Now she felt ill. There was no way this was her Dean, she didn’t know who this was or what this was but it wasn’t him. “What are you? You’re not Dean.” She stated plainly, her arm stinging with the pain of the hand holding it. “I’m not? That’s funny, been Dean all my life. My life that’s been dragged down by weak people.” Despite the fact that she could tell something was wrong, [Y/N] felt the sting of his words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She spoke, the tone of her voice betraying the strong front she was trying to keep. “Oh, I think you do. I can hear it in your voice. You know what a burden you’ve been to me.” Dean’s voice was stern, cold—she couldn’t deny that the words were getting to her heart. “I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t gonna work on me.” She replied, unable to keep her voice from breaking this time. “It doesn’t matter what your heart or your brain is trying to tell you. This is me, matter of fact this is me finally getting things off my chest. Look at me.” He demanded, despite her avoiding his gaze at all costs. If she looked into his eyes she knew she’d break down. This angered Dean and so he grabbed her face with his free hand and turned it toward him—just as she’d known would happen, tears welled up at the bottom of her eyes. “Oh, wow, look here! [Y/N] is crying. Again.” She cringed, he was so cold and she knew that something had to be wrong. There was no way he’d ever talk to her like this let alone grabbing her in this manner. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t. It was like she was living in some alternate reality. “Now you’ve got nothing to say hm? C’mon [Y/N/N] you never stopped running your trap any other time. Matter of fact I can’t think of a single time you’ve been lost for words.” He spat, which would’ve caused [Y/N] to recoil into her shell if he didn’t have his grip on her.

“You know, I had enough on my plate trying to babysit Sam. That’s my family. That’s my flesh and blood. You? Well, all you were was a good lay. I knew you’d have a hole in your heart after your old man kicked the bucket. I’ve never loved you, [Y/N]. I pitied you.” Dean spoke and that was the line that broke any resolve she had left. Sobs broke the silence from [Y/N] and this brought a cold laugh from Dean’s lips. “You’re pathetic. I don’t know how I’ve stomached you and your bullshit for so long.” He continued, she couldn’t speak. Not one thing could’ve ever pointed to this happening, at least not in her eyes. All she could do was sob. Now her chest was aching for an entirely different reason than before. Finally, Dean released his grip on both her face and her arm, but she didn’t run. She couldn’t. Another dry laugh was pulled from the man that stood in front of her and she just felt herself shrinking. “Luckily, all of my struggles end today.” He spoke, which obviously caught her attention. [Y/N] was trying so hard to speak, but it didn’t matter. Dean had turned around and buried an angel blade deep in her chest. [Y/E/C] eyes widened as they gazed into the green ones they’d once happily get lost within. There was no love to be found in Dean’s gaze, only disdain. However it wasn’t finished there—in an action of true hatred, the man she once called the love of her life was twisting the blade. This was it—she was dying today. If there was any hope in her, it was snuffed out when Dean had pulled the blade back out of her chest. Cool silver drenched in her blood, blood which was gushing from the open wound. “Goodbye [Y/N.]” He said, shoving her to the ground where she’d land on her back. Deep crimson quickly staining the dirt. She looked up at the sky, slowly blinking. As a hunter it was almost a guarantee that violent death was the way you’d go. She just never thought that violence would come from the most important person in her world.

“[Y/N]!” She heard someone calling her name, but she couldn’t move. “[Y/N]!” Again a voice was yelling her name, they sounded so far away and yet so close at the same time. Now her breathing was becoming shallow and she knew that her last few moments were winding down. “Goddammit wake the hell up [Y/N]!” She gasped. Eyes opening to see a bunch of stone around her—so she rubbed her eyes before blinking furiously. “Well good morning sunshine, so glad you could finish your bloody nap.” Crowley spoke, which had [Y/N] scrunch her nose up. “C-..Crowley? What.. what do you want-“ She attempted to ask but she was cut off almost immediately. “Listen we don’t have the time for this ‘explain yourself’ shit okay? We’ve gotta go.” Crowley spoke, sticking a key into a weird looking gate and walking inside. If he had any sense of morality, he’d feel bad for finding her in such shape. Bags under her eyes, scars over her body. “Get up, sunshine. We’ve got places to be.” He spoke, grabbing onto her arm and disappearing from the corner of hell.

[Y/N]’s “place” (grave).

Dean had been sitting there for a couple of hours. Just staring at the wooden ‘headstone’ he’d made for [Y/N] when Sam had suggested it would be good to have a place that she could rest. Of course, the difficult part of that—if you could call it difficult, was that there was no dead body. It felt a little silly at times, making things for a grave that didn’t even hold the woman he loved. Sam was right though, as much as he’d hate to admit it. It had become a place for Dean to find an odd sense of normalcy. It became a place where he could break down and get drunk and just.. miss her. While it was true that Dean did the drinking and the missing her whenever he went, it just felt better when he was here—for lack of a sensible term. It was here that he found a connection to her, he felt her presence surrounding him here somehow. Saddened and tired green eyes had been staring at the ‘grave’. Dean had decided to bury one outfit he deemed pretty enough to spend the rest of time wearing. Alongside that he’d handwritten a letter for [Y/N] that no one else had ever seen, so he placed that underneath the dress when he’d buried the makeshift coffin. “Please.. I need this to work. I just.. I can’t go on living without you, [Y/N/N]. Man I want to trust this but we’ve been through so much, we’ve tried so much to get you back. Sam and Bobby think this may be our last hope of saving you, sweetheart. I can’t face a world where it’s hopeless, I can’t believe in doing good for anyone when the best thing was stolen from this world.” He’d done a good job up until this moment of not crying. Everyone that knew Dean for all of five minutes knew or could tell he wasn’t one for crying. It was a sign of weakness, that’s what he was always taught. Emotions were never something he felt fully, always trying to shove them down and lock them up. It was something [Y/N] had helped him with in their relationship.

It was at that moment that a weird noise caught Dean’s attention. He blinked several times to rid his eyes of the excess tears and tried to remain on high alert. No one except for Sam and Bobby knew where this place was but that wasn’t enough. Everything that they’ve fought, the things they come up against, they had their ways of getting information. Again he heard something and so he slowly drew his weapon. No one would invade her space—no one. Realization finally hit and he put his gun down, running over to the grave and beginning to dig with his hands. “[Y/N]!” Dean yelled, feeling anxiety building up inside of him. He was throwing dirt like a madman, trying to get to her. Suddenly there was a hole and Dean could hear coughing. “Baby! Baby.. I got you.” He replied, words flying out a mile a minute. Now his digging was redirected to where the hole began, hands coming up from the dirt. Once the opening was big enough Dean abandoned the digging and grabbed onto her arms. “Hang on I’ve got you, [Y/N/N].” He said, pulling while she was pushing and once her head broke through the dirt she inhaled deeply. It took about a minute more, but finally he was able to pull her entirely free from the grave. [Y/N] took several deep breaths, Dean gave her the space to come to the realization that she was alive. Slowly but surely, she began to blink and rub at her eyes. Once she felt she was seeing clearly, her eyes settled on Dean. He was nervous and didn’t want to spook her or move too fast. She tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak. About to try again, Dean decided to soothe her and take a step closer. “Hey, baby.. hi it’s okay. That uh, that happened to me too. It was hard to speak at first but it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.” He was speaking softly. Tears were brimming her eyes as she finally started to realize what happened.

“Dean..” she croaked, voice still strained but not as badly as it was before. Now it was his turn to feel the tears welling up in his eyes. “Hi, sweetheart.” He spoke, taking another step towards where she was sitting in the dirt. “Am I..?” She asked, voice again straining. He took the opportunity to close the space between them, sitting in front of her on the ground. Green hues danced along every feature on her face, giving her the same butterflies she’d always had. Dean breathed softly, using his hand to gently tuck some of your tangled [Y/H/C] hair behind your ear. “You’re alive, baby. You’re here where you belong.” His voice was cracking due to the emotion he was feeling. Dean continued to stare into those [Y/E/C] eyes and every heartache he’d felt over the last year and a half seemed to vanish. “..tell me something only you’d know.” [Y/N] said, still fixated upon his beautiful green eyes. “Wha-“ Dean paused. There was a pit in the bottom of his stomach because he thought he knew why she was asking. It would hurt but he needed to know if his suspicions were right. “Lucifer made this one of the scenes in your head, didn’t he?” He asked, knowing that more than anything the devil himself loved a good psychological torture method. Slowly her gaze sunk to the dirt and that felt like a knife to his own heart. He figured Lucifer would use him to fuck with [Y/N] but hearing it.. he felt so heartbroken. “You have a little freckle on your hip bone, you love to sing in the shower but you refuse to believe me when I tell you it’s good. Your favorite thing to do was sit on the beach listening to the waves. You made me go with you the day of your father’s funeral when you needed to breathe.” Dean was prepared to keep talking but suddenly arms were flung around his shoulders and immediately his arms wrapped around her waist. [Y/N] began to sob, clinging to the love of her life like he could be ripped away at any moment. Luckily, Dean was doing the same thing. Together they sat there, wrapped into one another and crying—these were finally tears of joy.

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! I am so sorry about the long delay between chapters. My mental health was rocky and also I suffer from mild arthritis in both of my hands and any time I sat to try and write, I couldn’t for very long without my hands aching. Here it is though! I hope you love it and I’ll do my best to lessen the time between this and the next one. I appreciate all of the support and love on the story!