there aint no me if there aint no you

It's been weeks since you last saw Dean, your wounds were healing nicely, the stitches coming out tomorrow, the worst thing you've gone through now was the itchiness from them. You and Sam were best buddies now, you felt closer to him than ever before, but you couldn't hide the hurt or betrayal when you heard another voice in the bunker that haunted your head and your dreams. There you stood at the entrance of the filing room, listening to the conversation with tears and fears coming back.

"Dean, I know you're in there." you heard Sam call out, his voice low but full of hurt.

"Oh, Sammy, this is me now. There's no changing that." Dean grinned, you knew he knew you were listening. He knew you were on the other side of that makeshift bookshelf that was holding empty filing boxes.

You heard Sam laugh as if it was a joke to him, "We'll see about that." Dean grunted but you had no idea why. You didn't hear punches hit. You stood there at the doorway, trying to figure out what Sam did to hurt Dean, then it hit you. Sam was trying to cure Dean. You gulped, backing away from the door then running to another room just to get away. Sam curing Dean? You both have tried to test it, both failing miserably at it. You stopped at the entrance to the study room, grabbing a chair to compose yourself from the fight or flight response that was boiling in you.

"Y/N. You're awake." You yelped in surprise, turning around to face who spoke to you.

"Sam. Uh, yeah." Sam stared at you, his head tilted to one side, you smiled weakly at him. You felt shaky, you felt betrayed. How could he bring him back here? How could Sam do this to you?

"Why would you bring him here and not tell me?" You whispered, turning back around to grab the chair. Tears sprung to your eyes, remembering the pain you went through with him. Sam sighed, walking closer to you. You gripped the chair, turning your knuckles white.

"Y/N, he's my brother. I have to save him." 

You whipped around again to stare at the tall man, hot tears falling on your cheeks, "And you didn't tell me? Why?!" It came out as a yell rather than a question. Sam knew you were hurt, he knew you were scared. Your body shook in fear, from the quiet sobs that left you, feeling Sam wrap his arms around you, you couldn't help but melt into him.

"I'm sorry. I should've told you. Cas and I are trying to fix him." You missed Dean, you loved Dean, but the hurt and the pain he delivered to you made you hate him. You were scared of him, "We've been doing this for a few weeks." Sam continued.

A few weeks? You've been out of the hospital for a few weeks. You pushed him away softly, staring at him, "Did you... go back and get him... the day I was in the hospital?" You accused. You couldn't believe it happened any other way, you refused to. It didn't add up if he didn't. Sam was quiet, only a sigh came out as he stared you.

"Unbelievable." You huffed. Your feelings were everywhere, but right now you were pissed. Angry. You wanted to hit Sam for not telling you Dean was here. You had to leave, you needed to get away from him before you actually did hurt him. "I'm leaving." Sam's face fell. You stormed off to your room to pack your things. Where were you going? You had no one, and the only ones you did know were all kinds of messed up right now and you wanted no part of it when one lies to you.

"Y/N, wait-" Sam grabbed your arm to stop you, which only caused you to pull your arm out of his grasp, turning to look at him. Anger. Pure white anger was pouring out of you. No way you were staying. No amount of puppy eyes is going to stop you.

"No, Sam, you lied to me! Someone that physically and emotionally hurt me, is here! Under the same roof as me. And you brought him here?! You knew what he did to me, you found me!" You lifted your shirt to show your scars, still itchy, wincing when a stitch got hung on your shirt. "I'm still healing, Sam!" You put your shirt back down, and marched off. You didn't want to hear his response to that. You knew he fucked up, as did he. ------------------------------ You spent a couple weeks living in motels and in cars, checking your stitches. Living in cars and cheap motels wasn't all it was cracked up to be. You spent time thinking of how you left Sam to deal with his fucked up brother. You spent time thinking if you were Sam how you would've done the same for your brother, if you had any. You spent time thinking of what you went through, you had to get through before you went back. You had to come to terms with your pain before going back.

You were brought back to Earth as your phone rang. Sam. He's been calling what felt like everyday since you left. It wasn't everyday. It was only a couple times for a couple days. He gave up when you answered, drunk, and told him how you felt. Pissed off you didn't care about whose feelings your hurt. It needed to be said. You sighed, flicking the phone open to hear only a "He's human again." ------------------------------- Here you sat, Sam and Dean in front of you, you could hear the song. You could hear Dean singing to you. You could feel the blade digging into your skin. You winced, touching your stitches.

"Y/N.." Dean whispered. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, fear his eyes would turn black. Fear this was a joke and he wasn't human again, he wasn't himself. "I'm so sorry for the pain I did to you. I wasn't me." His attempt to rest his hand on yours was a mistake on his end. You pulled away much too fast, for either of you to understand. He knew he hurt you. He knew he fucked up. He knew all these things and wanted to fix it. You were scared to even look at him, to even be in the same room as him. You looked at Sam through your lashes. He was watching you with worry, sadness. Stuck between people he loves, his brother and a friend. He knew where you stood and how you felt, but he also knew how sorry Dean was to you.

"Please, let me fix this." Dean whispered again, pulling his hand back towards him. No words would come out. You had nothing to say. Speechless. What could you say? Oh, it's okay Dean, I totally understand! My trauma is all false! You couldn't justify that. 

You inhaled. Finally you looked up at them both, first at Sam for some reassurance. He nodded. You exhaled. "Dean, I understand completely." You felt guilty. You felt like you just broke your own trust. You did understand, but you were scared. "I understand the mark did this to you. I understand it wasn't your choice to go dark, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm scared of you." You reached to touch your stitches on your stomach. 

"I know, and I can't change that. I don't know how to fix this, but I'm trying." He meant it. You looked up at him and you knew he meant it. You stood out of your chair, staring at both of them as they stared at you with confusion. You wanted to show Dean the marks he gave you because he loved you. It was a mess of a situation. You didn't want to find out if he still had those same feelings, but demons do hold some truth to their words. You had to ask.

"Dean.." you hesitated, worried you couldn't let the words come out, you stared at Sam biting your lip waiting for some kind of courage to hit you, "Do you love me?”

It was quiet. He stared at you, his eyes burning. He knew what happened, he knew what he felt and what he said. He knows and you know it. You asked it again, this time with more aggression, you needed the answer. Sam sighed, watching the situation unfold in front of him. You couldn't look away from Dean.

"I-" he laughed, he didn't know how to answer, "Yes." You felt your body go cold with that. He was telling the truth. You felt your heart skip a beat, just for the fact that it's Dean saying he do love you. Sam quietly left the room. You felt the courage you had leave your body. 

"Why would you do this?" you whispered through tears. You had pain to work through, he had issues to work through. You lifted your shirt to show what you meant, showing him the stitches on the front of you.

"Y/N.. I can feel your blood drip off my fingers every time I look at you, every time I look at my hands. I can't fix that, I can only ignore it. It burns me. I can feel the anger I had when I did that, I can hear your screams and that eats me up. Let me try to fix this with you. This is between me and you. Let us fix this." Dean, now standing up, begged for mercy. Begging for your forgiveness and you knew he meant it. You choked back a sob. You trusted Dean, you trusted Dean then and you still trust him now, whether that makes you stupid or not, you couldn't decide. 

"Fine. Let's fix it." You didn't want to discuss what you feel when your daydreaming about what happened, you didn't want to discuss the night terrors that would wake you up, drenched in sweat and Sam running in because he heard you screaming.

Your name: submit What is this?

Soft light spilled in through the small kitchen window. Sam stood by the stainless steel stove making eggs. The comfortingly familiar smell of coffee soothed you. You caught sight of his brooding brow, the bow of his lips and strong jaw, the makeup of a perfect face. Your heart seemed so full of love it could float like a helium balloon. I love him too damn much. You thought.

“Good Morning, honey. Do you want some coffee?” He asked cheerily. The possessive way he was looking at you sent a sensation through your body that you weren’t prepared to feel. You beamed widely. He caught sight of your smile and laughed.

“What is it?” He wanted to know, but it was a secret you could not share. So you just shook your head and sighed happily.

“Nothin’. Yes, I’d like some coffee, please.” You shamelessly checked him out as he walked away. Six feet four inches of sexy and he was all yours. He caught you staring and laughed.

“What? I can’t help that you’re nice to look at.” You shrugged. He shook his head ruefully and came to the table. Offering you a cup of coffee, he leaned down and kissed you gently.

“You want to see something truly beautiful? Take a look in the mirror.” Sam replied and you blushed. You heard the ticking sound the burner makes when the flame has trouble catching and then, you woke up.

Cinderella says a dream is a wish your heart makes and I tend to believe that’s true. It’s waking up that’s a bitch. My cheek was stuck to the fabric of the big sofa in our make shift living room. I wished I could go back to sleep, back to my dream and live in it forever. Instead I was sinking into the sofa cushions and my shoulder itched. It took a minute to remember how I’d ended up sleeping in the living room in the first place. Oh crap. I’d fallen asleep during the movie last night. Not only had I fallen asleep, but I remembered falling asleep on Sam. Lord, I hoped I didn’t drool. With an over dramatic but much needed sigh I stretched and then stood. Ready to start my usual routine, I made my way down the narrow hallway to get the coffee started.

“If you like your coffee hot, Let me be your coffee pot,” The slightly off-key baritone carried from further down the hallway. Confused, I followed the singing.“

You call the shots, babe, I just wanna be yooours,” The sound beckoned me into the kitchen. What I saw made me stop dead in my tracks. It was Sam. Sam Winchester was singing … and cooking. I shook my head in disbelief. Uh-uh. No way.

“Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yooo- Whoa! Hey, Y/N. I, uh, didn’t hear you come in.” He said, clearing his throat nervously. Sam turned off the burner and flipped the pan over, dropping the pancake he’d been making onto a plate. On the counter beside the stove sat an assortment of breakfast foods set out buffet style.

“I was just gonna get the coffee started.” I blathered anxiously. In all my years with the Winchesters I’d never once seen Sam cook.

“I woke up feeling energized. So, I thought, why not make some breakfast?” he explained sounding much too chipper for pre-coffee Y/N ‘’s liking.

“Well, that’s great.” I tried for a smile but it probably looked more like a grimace. Truth be told, I felt a little disappointed. Stupid dream. Sam smiled and my heart ached.

“Do you want some coffee? I’m going to get you some coffee.” He was practically bouncing. How anyone could naturally have this much energy at this time of day was beyond me. I sat at the kitchen table and watched the man I loved pour me some coffee. I tried not to be too bitter about it. Shouldn’t we enjoy our triumphs whenever we could? However small they might be. He added quite a bit of cream and that was exactly how I took it. His playlist kept going in the background, some song about having a terrible breakfast with a miserable waitress came on and boy did it seem appropriate. Sam offered me the coffee cup and I took it carefully avoiding eye contact. An awkward silence stretched out between us but I refused to break it. Instead I blew on my coffee before taking a sip and watched Sam shift weight from foot to foot.

“Do you want something to eat? I made eggs, pancakes, bacon, and toast?” He listed them on his fingers.

“I’ll go up and get something in a second.” I assured him, but he seemed uncomfortable.

“Or you could get some eggs, toast, and bacon for me?”

“Of course.” He bounded over to the counter humming tunelessly.

“Good Morning Nerds.” Dean greeted us, heading straight for the coffee. The plate Sam put down in front of me had double the amount of food I would have served myself. I knew I was a big girl but daaamn.

“Uuhm, thanks, Sam.” I muttered at a loss.

“No problem.” He replied rubbing my back. I would have liked to take it as a hint of some kind, but in reality it was an unconscious touch on his part. It came with the familiarity between Sam, Dean, and I after years of bunking together.

“You’re up early.” Sam commented as Dean took a seat next to me at the table.

“Smelled bacon.” Dean grumbled taking a sip of his coffee. We watched Sam fix his brother a plate in companionable silence. If there was one thing I admired about Dean, it was how predictable he was. Coffee, then conversation. Just like me. Then Sam brought his plate over to the table and sat down with us.

“What did you do last night?” Sam asked as Dean chewed a bite of pancake. “Don’t you mean, who?” I snorted. Dean and I high-fived and Sam rolled his eyes.

“I dunno,” Dean admitted between bites of bacon, “but she was chesty and talented.”

“Don’t you ever get tired off boning random girls whose names you don’t remember in the morning?” Sam sighed shaking his head in disappointment. I smiled and took another sip of my coffee.

“I’ll get tired of it, when they get tired of me.” Dean said nonchalantly. “What’d you two do last night?” “We had pizza and watched Star Trek.” Sam muttered. “Why?”

“You made Y/N sit through Star Trek again? Ah man. That’s just cruel.”

 “I made it half way through.” Fighting a smile, I tapped my fingers against the warm porcelain cup

“No wonder you guys ended up sleeping on the sofa. That was what? The fifth time you watch –“ The sound of Dean’s phone ringing interrupted us before I had time to comment. He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled it out answering by the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Yes, this is Dean Winchester. He confirmed already sounding more alert.

“Who’s this?”

“Mrs. Robinson?” Dean stood immediately and left the room leaving Sam and I to wonder what was going on. When Dean didn’t come back to the kitchen I figured it must be a new case or something. It was rare, but he did occasionally receive calls from people we’d helped out at one time or another. When we finished eating, I cleared the table and prepared to wash the dishes.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sam called quietly.

“Yeah?” I drenched the sponge in dish soap and started scrubbing. I couldn’t explain why, but I’d always found washing dishes very calming.

“Do you like Star Trek?” He said it so casually that I fell right into the trap.

“No.” I murmured rinsing a plate and placing it in the drying rack.

 “Then why do you watch it with me?” He pounced. Oh, he was good. Now, I could see why he’d been studying law.

 “I-I dunno. I just do.” I replied nervously. There was no way to backtrack, now. Damn.

“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?” His tone was so serious, it made me pause.

“There’s nothing to tell.” I insisted forcing myself to keep scrubbing.

“Isn’t there?” His voice came from right behind me and I jumped.

“Why’d you sleep on the sofa?” I countered rinsing my hands.

“I didn’t want to wake you up.” He contended. Dean came back into the kitchen then, looking so morose it made my stomach tighten in fear.

“What is it, Dean? What happened?” Sam asked immediately.

“It’s Cassie.” Dean sighed staring at the floor like he could see through it. “She…She’s gone.”

“Gone?” Sam repeated.

“Cancer. She passed away last night.” Stunned, Sam and I watched the tears spill down Dean’s cheeks. I shook the shock away and went to him putting my arm around his shoulders in an attempt to console him.

“The funeral’s tomorrow.” He sniffed trying to get it together.

“I’m leaving tonight. You guys don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” He informed us and left without waiting for a response.

“Wow.” I said simply. Natural death was not so common in our line of work. The thought of someone so young dying of a terminal illness was surreal.

“Are you going?” Sam looked as surprised as I felt.

“Yes. We can’t let him go by himself.” I replied. Sam nodded solemnly. I left him standing in the kitchen and went to go pack.

Dean kept it together pretty well through the funeral. He sat with Cassie’s mother and held her when she cried. He made it through the whole thing without shedding a tear. After the wake, we headed to a bar near the university. The first thing Dean ordered should have been a tip off.

“I’ll have a four horsemen.” He told the bartender and patted the seat next to him. Sam and I sat on either side of him. I tried to order a water, but Dean stopped me.

“You’re drinking with me.” He commanded. “She’ll have the same thing I’m having and keep ‘em coming.” He tipped the bartender a twenty. The bartender placed two short glasses of dark liquid before us. I could tell by looking that it was lethal. It was the worst tasting thing I’d ever had in my mouth, cloyingly sweet with a bitter after taste. It tasted the way poison smelled. Dean and I drank four a piece before it started. My stomach started to feel nasty. Nausea took hold and soon I was dry heaving. I ran to the bathroom leaving Dean and Sam alone at the bar.

**********************************

Sam’s point of view

I wasn’t sure what I could do to help, but Y/N looked so sick and I was worried. I made to follow her, but Dean grabbed my wrist.

“Let her go, Sammy. She’ll be fine. She just needs to get it out of her system.” He assured me. We sat there quietly for a while watching the people around us.

“You see that booth back there, Sammy?” Dean asked me gesturing to a table at the back of the bar. The empty booth was set in a dark corner. It was the kind of seat couples would choose to get a bit of privacy when the place was busy.

“Yeah?” I sighed my gaze straying toward the bathrooms.

“That’s where I kissed Cassie for the first time.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“She was the one for me. I knew it, but I got scared and ruined it.” He told me downing the rest of his drink. The ghost of a dozen memories danced across the bar. This was their place and this was his way of saying good bye.

“What are you doing Sam?” He spoke suddenly.

“What?” I asked confused. Worrying about Dean and Y/N was starting to stress me out.

“With Y/N. I see the way you look at her. Noticed the way you are around her. You’re wasting time, Sam. Just like I did with Cassie.” He lifted his hand to close out the tab.

“Dean –“

“No, Listen to me. I should have told that girl every day that I loved her. That she was the most amazing thing that had ever happened to me. I shoulda been here. I’d give anything to have Cassie back. So, what are you doing Sam? Y/N is right here. Talk to her.” I’d never heard him so dejected. I could see the regret in his eyes when he looked up at me. He’d meant every word.

“I will.” It was a promise not only to Dean, but to myself. I wouldn’t miss my chance. If I had one.

*************************************

The trip back to Lebanon was a fuzzy dream to me. I spent most of it sleeping. By the time we reached the bunker I felt a hell of a lot better. Dean was out of the Impala almost as soon as we parked. I didn’t find it surprising. He hadn’t really had time to grieve yet and I could see there was a long road ahead for him. Sam pushed the driver seat up to let me out. I grabbed onto his outstretched hand to steady myself and climbed out of the backseat. His big warm hand held on to mine for a long moment. My heart galloped wildly in my chest, I tried not to let my feelings show on my face, but I felt certain that he knew.

“Y/N, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Oh God. He knew. God I should have done something to make it less obvious. I should have pined less and smiled more. I thought sweeping the stray strands of hair that had escaped my ponytail out of my face.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” He was looking straight into my eyes and it was making me antsy.

"Y-yeah.” How could I not? He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. It was after that first hunt that my affliction had begun. It went from attraction, to affection, and eventually love.

“When you found out we were working on the same case, you introduced yourself. You smiled and shook my hand and I thought, you were so beautiful. I was so busy staring at you, that I didn’t hear half of what you said. And the day you decided to stay with us, was one of the happiest days of my life, because it meant I’d get to see you every day. The more I got to know you, the more I realized that you are everything I ever wanted. And I don’t know if you feel the same, but I need you to know that I’m in love with you.” He took both my hands in his. His hazel eyes filled with a hope I’d never imagined I’d see in them.

"I never thought… I didn’t know that you felt that way about me.” I hedged. I wasn’t sure if he meant it. Maybe he was trying to trick me into confessing.

“Well, now you know.” He maintained. He leaned in to kiss me, but I turned away.

“Why are you doing this?” It hurt to think he would play with me like this. Even if he didn’t love me. I thought of him as my friend and friends didn’t manipulate each other.

“Doing what?”

“Torturing me like this.”

“I didn’t realize that pouring my heart out would be torture to you.” He scoffed letting go of my hands. “That’s not what I mean.”

"Then say what you mean.”

“Why are you trying to make me do this? If you know that I love you then say so. Don’t put me through this-this game. You think it doesn’t hurt to see you every day and know that I can’t have you? It’s painful. And now you’re standing here saying everything I ever wanted you to say just to hurt me. Why did you feel that you had to do this, Sam? Why?” I was crying now. Blubbering like the idiot I was, but I couldn’t help it.

"Shh shh shhh hey,” He took me into his arms and pathetic person that I was, I let him. “It’s not a game. I’m not playing with your feelings,Y/N. I really meant it. Every word.” He re-assured me.

“Really?” I’d never been more afraid in my life. I stood stalk still waiting for an answer.

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By the time you came stumbling into the puke orange motel room it was half past eight. Both of the boys turned toward the door when you entered. As soon as you saw Sam Winchester’s face you knew you had screwed up. Unlike Dean, his expression was filled with hurt and more than a little disappointment. “Where in the hell have you been?” Dean couldn’t have been more upset, but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“Went out for a few drinks. Thats all.” You shrugged and made a bee-line for the bed.

“Oh no, uh uh, Drunky. You’re staying up right.” Dean fumed exasperated. You sat down on the bed bouncing the mattress a little.

“Damn it. Damn it! God Damn it, Y/N! How could you do this?” He began.

“S'okay, Dean. Everythin’s okay.” You told him patting his shoulder and hoping to fend off the upcoming lecture. Numb. You felt numb. Numb was a good feeling. It was better than…well, feeling. You looked up at Dean. There were two of him. You weren’t sure how he did that but boy was it was confusing. You stared hard squinting in an attempt to fix your bleary vision.

“What’re you doing?” Two beautiful Sam’s glared down at you. No, one. No, two.

“Do I ever tell you how gorgeous you are? ‘cause I should.” You giggled running your hand down Sam’s arm.

 “N-no?” Sam stuttered blushing. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying.” He half-smiled. It made your heart jump a little in your chest.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re gorgeous every day. Even when your hair does that-that flippy thing when you get up in the morning.” By the time you’d finished your sentence he was blushing.

“She’s pretty trashed. What are we gonna do now?” He asked Dean.

“I-I don’t know.” Dean admitted looking forlorn.

“It’s not gonna work if she isn’t there to draw it out.” Sam cursed under his breath. You watched Dean pace back and forth around the hotel room for a moment trying to process what he’d said. Was he crazy? He couldn’t seriously think he was leaving you behind.

“Hey! Hey! I’m not trashed! I’ve been drink more- errr… I mean… I’ve been more drunk than this. Okay? I can handle it! Cross my heart and hope ta die.” You promised.

“Are you sure you can do this?” Dean asked crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yes.” You told him nodding in agreeance and bouncing up off the mattress.

“No. No way!” Sam dismissed the idea immediately. You knew he just wanted you to be safe. Normally you’d understand but tonight it was annoying.

“I can do it, Sam. I’m gonna bring it out and you and Dean are gonna kill the son bitch. Okay?” You insisted poking him square in the chest. Sam frowned down at you resigned.

"We have to do it, Sam. We’re outta time. There are lives on the line. There ain’t any other way. At least none that I can see.” Dean seemed to be grudgingly on board but Sam was not so sure.

*************************************

When you got to the park something strange happened. The street lights went completely out.

“Alright, you guys ready for this?” Dean inquired grabbing the ancient sword needed to kill the beast.

“Yeah, lets gank this bitch!” You hiccuped making to get out of the car.

“Are you absolutely sure you can do this?” Sam asked concerned.

“Oh yeah, absolutely.” You insisted climbing out of the Impala and into the darkness. You weren’t standing in the dark for long. Two fiery blue beasts came straight for you within seconds. You tried to roll out of the way but tumbled onto the black top. Dean went for the one on your right, but you lay at the feet of the second dragon afraid to move. It transformed into something more human and grabbed you from the back of your blouse.

“Get up, Hunter.” It growled. You beheld its blue gaze wearily as you dangled from the end of its arm. “Couldn't’ve if I’d wanted to.” You told it with a snort.

“Silence.” It backhanded you with enough force to sober you up a bit.

“Fuck you.” You spat at it.

“What would you know of that? …virgin.” It jeered. You groaned at the low blow. Then you were flung away as Sam jumped the dragon from behind. You hit the impala and bounced off onto the black top again.

“Shit.” You mumbled. Steadying yourself with the side of the car. Your head was swimming but you were able to straighten up to a standing position… in time to catch a ball of blue flame shot to the ribs. There was screaming. It took you a while to realize that it was you doing the screaming. The pain was more than you could bare. The burning in your side alternated between freezing cold and boiling hot making the wound incredibly painful. It hurt enough to bring you to your knees. The smells of burnt fabric and burnt flesh swam up to your nostrils making you gag and then hurl. You looked up in time to see Dean stab the sword right through the second dragon. You tried to stand again only to double back over. You saw Sam come rushing towards you then everything went dark.

 *************************************

Next thing you knew you were waking up in a bright room with sea green walls. “Y/N? Are you awake?” Sam’s voice was coming from somewhere above you. You opened one eye and looked up at him noticing in a vague sort of way that you were laying down.

“I-I’m fine.” You replied. Your throat felt a little sore.

“What happened?”

“You got fucking wasted. That’s what happened.” Dean sat in a big pink chair in the corner. You’d laugh at the strange sight, if you didn’t feel so sore. Your side still hurt, but nowhere near as badly as you remembered it hurting last night.

“Did you know they had to pump your stomach?” Dean informed you green eyes alight with the beginnings of anger.

"No, I didn’t.” You huffed irritated. You could feel a lecture coming on.

“What in the hell’s wrong with you, Y/N? You could have gotten yourself killed out there! Why do you keep drinking so damn much?” He demanded. Disapproval colored his tone. It chaffed. Dean’s green eyes had always reminded you of your brother, but mostly of how he died. You shut that thought down immediately. You wouldn’t think of that. Not now, not ever. You avoided looking into Dean’s eyes. Praying that this would be over soon.

“I don’t drink that much.” You insisted picking at the IV in your arm.

Just enough to ease the pain

you thought idly.

“You have a drinking problem.” Sam blurted. He looked tired and concerned but thankfully not angry.

“I do not!” You defended. You couldn’t believe they were making a big deal out of this. “I do just fine with a few drinks in me. Better even.“ You boasted looking from one Winchester to the other.

"Oh yeah? How about the hunt in Ruidoso? Huh? How’d that go?” Dean taunted looking pissed as hell.

“That was one-”

“Portland, Scottsdale, Raleigh?” He listed tiredly. “Need any more examples? I’ve got tons.”

“Fine! Alright, alright. So maybe I’ve screwed up a few times. I’ll cut back on the drinking.” You declared.

“You…you will?” Sam asked looking relieved.

“Yes.” You avowed.

“Bullshit.” Dean fumed standing.

“I will Dean. I promise.” You lied but Dean just wouldn’t believe you.

“I’m gonna go get some coffee.” He said to Sam and left the room.

When you and Sam were alone, he made you promise him you would cut back on your drinking and again you told him what he wanted to hear. He hugged you and kissed the top of your head.

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“And they sayin’ I’m back I’d agree with that, I just take my time with all this shit, I still believe in that. I had someone tell me I fell off- Hey!” Dean yanked your earphones out a little too hard.

 "I thought we talked about this, Y/N? None of that crap in the impala!“ He complained with a pained look on his face.

“I’m in my room! You couldn’t even hear-”

“Some hip hop song started playing on the radio as soon as I started the impala. Explain that.” He demanded.

“It wasn’t me! I’m not even allowed to drive the impala!”

“Uh huh, you do realize you’re the only one in this bunker who listens to that crap right?” He countered giving you a judgmental look.

“So then it’s a coincidence cause it wasn’t me.” You told him, pausing your ipod.

“I’m gonna have to call bullshit on that.” Dean sassed arms crossed defensively over his chest. 

“It.Wasn’t.Me.“ You ground out, but then you remembered who the last person to borrow the impala was and had to hide your grin.

"Think about it Dean. Who drove your car last?” It took him a minute to figure out what you were insinuating.

“Oh no.”

“Oooh yes.” You replied with a smirk. “Looks like I’m not the only one after all.”

“SAAAAM!” Dean called already making his way to his brother’s room. You followed behind him curious to see what the younger Winchester had to say. Dean knocked and when there was no answer he threw open the door. Sam sat on his bed laptop open, blasting J. Cole’s newest single.

“Seriously, dude?” Dean asked incredulously.

Your name: submit What is this?

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“What’s your name, Darlin’?” The tall man asked. Such a mundane question in the wake of heart-stopping terror and disturbing violence felt inconceivable. “Y/N .” I heard myself respond. Kind grey eyes gazed into mine. I was transfixed.

“That’s a beautiful name.” He commented leading me calmly through the room with his hand at the small of my back.

 “What’s your name?” My voice sounded steadier than I felt, but if he noticed how shaken up I was, he didn’t show it.

“Name’s John. John Winchester.” He told me with a disarming grin.

 “How did you know how to stop them? I tried everything, but it kept coming.” I rambled. The shock of what I’d witnessed was starting to wear off. He sighed but didn’t stop moving.

“It’s complicated, kid. How about right now we just focus on getting out of here?” He suggested leading me out the back door.

The old pick up rumbled loudly down Highway 290. It wasn’t until he pulled into the parking lot of a sleazy looking motel that I started to worry. Holy shit! I didn’t know this man! I didn’t know what he was capable of! Well…that wasn’t entirely true. I knew he was capable of killing those things whatever they were. Oh Great! Yeah, A+ decision making skills, Y/N! Why did I do this?! Why did I get into his truck?

He put it in park and turned watching me contemplatively for a quiet moment. O-kay don’t panic don’t panic don’t-

“So, normally I don’t do this. I get in, kill the evil son’s of bitches, and then get the hell out of town, but… I gotta tell you, in all my years doing this, I never seen a civi that could handle themselves that well against a monster. ”

“A what?”

“A monster. A ghoul.” He repeated solemnly. “They’re creatures that generally hang around grave yards eating dead but when they seek vengeance like that particular monster, there’s no telling.”

“Feed…on the flesh…of the dead?”

He nodded giving me a look that made my cheeks burn. “You know, I think we should have this conversation, after we get a couple of drinks in you.”

So many questions came to mind that I hardly had time to think about them before a new one came up. Was this real? Was he crazy? Was I? The thing that had attacked me had looked very real. Ghoul, he’d called it. Maybe this was a dream…

“You, uh might wanna get cleaned up.” He told me interrupting my thoughts. And there it was again, that charming grin.

“Mhmmm” I murmured helpless against the pair of iridescent grey eyes trained on mine. His tongue licked lightly at the corner of his mouth and my eyes followed the movement. John leaned in close. I didn’t move away. His face was just inches from mine. If I leaned forward a little bit- the popping sound of the lock on the passenger door being pulled up snapped me out of it. “You feelin’ okay, kid?” He asked amused.

“I feel fine.” I grumbled making to get out of the truck. I followed him to his motel room watching as he unlocked the door with large steady hands. Then followed him into the room berating myself internally for thinking of the many ways a man like him might put such capable hands to use. “Bathroom’s right over there, sweetie.”

He told me gesturing to the door on my left. I cringed at the appellation, but ducked into the bathroom anyway closing the door behind me. What I saw in the mirror made me gasp. Not even in my worst nightmares had I ever seen myself so disheveled. There were blood stains all over my dress. Drying patches of it on my arms, neck, and face. I even had bloody bits and pieces of ghoul in my hair. Turning away from the mirror, I peeled off the dress and shimmied out of my ripped up panty hose. I unclasped my bra and pulled down my underwear. Then kicked my ruined clothes into a messy pile before getting into the shower. Under the warm water, I began to feel good again. The more I scrubbed the better I felt. By the time I was done, I was no longer freaking out. I turned off the water stepping out of the tub to find that John had taken away the pile of ruined clothes but left me a towel.    I rang my hair out in the sink and did my best to dry it with the towel. My reflection looked the same way it had before I left the house this morning, but I didn’t feel like the same person. Together my reflection and I considered the facts. Something evil had walked into the store today and brutally murdered my co worker. If John Winchester hadn’t come in to help me when he did. I wouldn’t be alive right now. I glanced down at the towel in my hand contemplatively and my reflection seemed to agree with the idea. Carefully folding in the edge, I wrapped the towel around me. He was just stepping back into the room when I opened the door. I didn’t say anything. Just watched him close the door behind him a brown paper bag in his hand. His eyes met mine for the briefest moment before he noticed how little I was wearing. Then he was caught up taking in the rest of me. His eyes moved slowly down my body. I noticed his throat work as he swallowed, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. “Enjoy your shower?” He inquired freeing a bottle of low grade whisky from the bag and setting it on the table. “Yes.” I replied taking a seat. “I can lend you some clothes’.” He informed me as he poured three fingers of whiskey into each of the cheap plastic cups. “I wasn’t sure if you’d mind.” I picked up the small white cup. He sat down in the chair opposite me and took a sip from his cup regarding me thoughtfully. “How considerate…” He drawled meeting my gaze. It was a challenge. I didn’t dare look away. I started to feel self conscious and took a sip of the honey colored liquor. “Why are you taking it so hard on me, kid?” He sounded almost strained. “It’s Y/N.” I reminded him taking another sip. He took a deep breath and smiled. “I’m trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.” Ordinarily a statement like that would be reason enough for me to back off but my towel had slipped lower during our conversation and his eyes were no longer on mine when he spoke. “And what’s the right thing, John?” I pressed knowing full well that I had the upper hand. “Get you some clothes, drop you off at your place.” “Mmm I get the feeling you aren’t all that keen on that idea.” “I saved your life. All that’s left for me to do is give you a ride home.” He seemed torn, but from the way his gaze kept traveling from my lips to my breasts I knew it wasn’t much of a battle. “Or I could spend the night…”

“I’d be taking advantage.”

“No. You wouldn’t.”

“This conversation is getting old fast, kid.” He sounded as frustrated as I felt.

“So I’m back to ‘kid’ now?”

“By comparison.” He sighed running his hand over his eyes wearily.