#allyswritingevent

Jensen had closed the door of the suite behind him as they stepped into Y/N’s room together. With lips swollen from their heavy makeout in the elevator, he wasted no time as she found herself pinned to the wall by the actor's strong hands. In the fairly lit room, she noticed his wedding band was now missing. Y/N knew Jensen and his wife's relationship was on the rocks even before she had started to work on the SPN set. Which was also the reason why few months ago, the hide-and-seek between them and the hungry paps with cameras had started.

Hands on her hips, Jensen had pulled her close on the set, more than the director demanded it. That night, he had found himself standing inside her trailer, after the fated shot. The heart wants what it wants and just as the saying went, they had given in to their burning desires. In a moment of weakness, Jensen had broken off every single one of his vows and destroyed any hope of salvaging his relationship with his estranged wife.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Jensen ripped her blouse off, unhooking her bra quickly, barely containing his eagerness before stepping out of his own jacket. Y/N clutched at the ends of the counter, knocking off the magazines lying on top of it and draping her other arm around Jensen's firm body. He delicately cupped her face as his mouth devoured hers. She could taste the mint and coffee on his lips feeling his teeth graze roughly against her, making her moan into him. The actor pushed her legs apart with his knees and stood close between her thighs as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth.

In desperate need of air, they momentarily separated before Jensen dipped his head down again, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses down her neck. Y/N’s legs buckled under his hypnotic touch when his mouth found her pulse point and she supported herself against his body. Jensen's hands moved down to her breasts, kneading them. His fingers caressed her hard nipples before his mouth latched onto one sensitive bud.

“Jay, please-” Y/N could only form two words as Jensen flicked her nipple while his fingers worked on the other one, spurring her on. Words weren't quite necessary, cause the man knew exactly what she needed. He knew her every tic, her every emotion like the back of his hand and Y/N was aware of that fact as well. No one could ever worship her body like he did.

Jensen was still wearing the black polo shirt, his noticeable bulge painfully straining in his jeans. She felt her wetness dampening the fabric of her panties as she thrusted her hips forward in need of some friction, her heated core brushing against his bulge.

Pulling apart for a second, Jensen’s viridian eyes studied her as his hands sneaked under her skirt. He watched her intently as she sucked on her bottom lip, closing her eyes when his fingers grazed past her soakedpanties.

A moan escaped her wet lips when Jensen's fingers hooked themselves with the waistband and in one swift pull, got rid of the panties. It quickly glided down her legs, pooling at her feet. He teased her by flicking at her bundle of nerves, making her lean her head back against the wall.

Y/N swayed on her feet a little, her hold on his shoulders tightening as she finally felt her legs give away when his fingers rubbed circles on her clit.

“Fuck-” she panted as he pushed a single finger inside her.

“Have you been thinkin’ about me all day?” Jensen leaned towards her ears, his scruff grazing across her neck. Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice, eyes still squeezed shut in sheer ecstasy.

“Sweetheart, use your words.” He ordered as his finger curled inside her.

“Yeah-fuck, yes.” Jensen kissed below her ear, smirking against her skin when she obediently answered him.

“I have been thinkin’ about you too, counting down the hours till I could get you alone.” He whispered against her neck. She mewled at the feeling of him adding another finger, his thick digits stretching her out as they curled inside her. “That little dress wasn't helping either.”

“Uh-huh,” she could feel the coil inside her tightening as his finger worked their way inside her, his thumb rubbing at her folds and clit, edging her on.

“I have thinkin’ all day about you clenching around my fingers and then my cock-” his words had an immediate effect as she clenched around his fingers as he kept pumping into her, “you've thinkin’ about that too, huh?” Y/N nodded again.

“What did I say? Words.” His other hand travelled down her body, stopping at her stomach and he pinched at her waist. “Words, baby.”

“I-I have been thinki-” Y/N panted when she realised she was close to her climax. Jensen picked up his pace and pumped his fingers faster into her, brushing past her g-spot over and over again.

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

When you hear me moaning and groaning, baby,

You know it hurts me deep down inside

Oh, when you hear me, honey, baby,

You know you're my one desire

“Lemme say it, sweetheart. I know you've been thinking how I would make you come on my fingers, how my dick is gonna fill you up, make you come all over me. Don't lie.” Jensen's every assumption was right to the dot. She had been thinking of everything to the last detail since the moment she watched him get out of his car, right outside of the convention building. But there was another thought on her mind, the image of him pushing her against one of the counters of his empty brewery a few weeks ago with him buried deep inside her.

That was the last she had seen Jensen before the convention as he had gone back home to his wife.

His wife.

The one woman he had promised to be with in sickness and health, till death do them apart. Guilt clouded Y/N’s mind but all rational thoughts flew out of the window when he lowered his head, kissing the neck and the coil inside her finally snapped.

With a cry of his name, she came undone on his fingers, her legs finally giving away but Jensen's hold prevented her from toppling over. He pulled his fingers out as she whimpered at the feeling. His digits still covered in her juices, Jensen pulled his shirt over his head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Y/N panted, trying to come down from the high but she wanted more. She needed to feel him.

“Y/N-” Jensen rasped, looking right at her with lust blown eyes. Y/N smacked her lips at the sight of his freckled, toned body.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” He smirked as Y/N eagerly reached out for his belt buckle.

“Uh-huh.” She agreed. Jensen bit back a moan when she reached out to palm his bulge. He threw his head back at the feeling of her hand on his erection through his jeans.

“It has been weeks-” Jensen said, clearly hinting at their last time together at the brewery. He quickly unbuckled his belt, pushing down his jeans along with his boxers, his erection springing free from its confines.

“Baby, it has been weeks since I felt your tight pussy wrapped around me. Fuck.” Y/N looked at him with hooded eyes and wrapped her fingers around his length, running her palm along its shaft and her thumb rubbed the tip of his cock, already lined with beads of precum. Jensen hiked her skirt up, pushing her hands away and gave his hard cock a few slow strokes. He nudged her sensitive core with his swollen tip, all while pulling out sweet, sinful noises out of her.

“Jay,” he loved hearing her needy moans, her voice raspy when she called out his name. His hands grabbed her ass and picked her up. Hooking her legs and arms behind him, with her back still firmly pushed up against the wall, Jensen lined himself with at her entrance.

Grunting, he pushed himself into her and wrapped his arms around her body. Y/N’s mouth fell open with an inaudible moan at the feeling of his cock stretching her out. Jensen placed a chaste kiss on her lips as he let her adjust to his size before slowly pulling out of her, leaving only the tip of his engorged cock inside, and pushed back in again, much deeper than before.

Her legs tightened around his waist, pulling him close as she bucked up her hips to match his rhythm. “Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Jensen grunted as he started to thrust faster.

Y/N whimpered, her eyes fluttering close as Jensen snapped his hips forward before slowly drawing them back. With every thrust, she inched closer to her release as their breathing became ragged. The actor’s skin was flushed, his cheeks turning a bright red with beads of sweat lining his forehead as he felt her clench around her. Her nails dug into his back as the coil inside her tightened.

“‘M so close,” she whispered, as he continued to mercilessly pound into her.

“Cum around my cock, baby. I wanna feel you all over me-” Jensen growled into her ears, tugging on her earlobes with his teeth and his breath tickled her neck, making her quiver. Jensen had an effect on her that no one ever had. Sometimes, she would say to herself that Millie was a really lucky woman who got to have Jensen all the time and not just on convention weekends and sneaky nights spent in his empty brewery or a trailer park.

And Y/N was the one who was ruining their relationship. A home-wrecker. The tabloids would rightfully call her that if they ever found out about their twisted relationship.

“Jensen, fuck-” a cry of pure ecstasy left her lips as the coil inside her snapped once more and she felt herself coming undone for the second time that night. Jensen's thrust had become sloppy. He rocked his hips forward, thrusting a few more times. Burying his face in the crook of her neck a muffled scream of her name escaped his lips as he spilled into her, his white, hot seed coating her walls.

He lazily circled his hips a few times, his cock becoming soft inside her before he pulled out of her. His cum trickled down her leg, when he set her down, Y/N felt herself go weak in her knees when she tried to stand.

“Hi,” Jensen smiled, their eyes meeting, before he leaned forward.

“Hi.” Y/N whispered back. They stood together, holding each other closely with their foreheads touching. Guilt seeped into her and so did despair but she didn't regret any moment they spent together.

“Let me clean up the mess,” Jensen said.

“I'm gonna hop into the shower.” She said, holding out the hope that he would join her but he didn't.

“Alright.” It was all he said. Dejected, she pulled away from him and made her way towards the shower. All she wanted was to spend every single minute with him before he went back to his room to keep up the facade of his happily married life.

In the shower, Y/N thought about the day she had first met Jensen when she was a newbie on the set and reflected back on their rollercoaster of a relationship. There was an instant connection between them. Jensen was always such a gentleman. He truly cared for her, but love... she didn't know if even the idea of love existed between them or if she was just an affair.

She stepped out of the bathroom and saw that Jensen was now In his boxers. He gave her a nod and moved past her into the bathroom. A sad smile formed on her lips as she watched him walk away. She put on a comfortable pair of pjs and crawled into the bed, under the covers, waiting for the exact moment when Jensen stepped out of the bathroom and put on his clothes. And just like every other time, she would watch him leave after he kissed her forehead and told her he doesn't have a choice.

This time though, it was going to be different.

Y/N didn't want Jensen to leave, neither did she want to watch him go so she squeezed her eyes shut, adamant of not responding when he walked up to her.

She flinched when he heard the bathroom door shut. She counted down the minutes till the goodbye kiss but instead she felt the other side of the bed dip down with a familiar weight. Opening her eyes, she felt his hand wrapping around her waist. Jensen was in her bed. She turned to face him.

He was breathing slowly. His long lashes rested against his cheek and his freckled face reflected the look of absolute contentment.

Said you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh, you know I love you baby

My love for you I could never hide

Oh when I feel you near me little girl

I know you are my one desire

“You're staring.” He whispered.

“You're staying.” She replied back, making his beautiful eyes flutter open.

Pursing his lips together, he said, “Do you not want me to?”

“No-I mean, yes. Stay…But, what about Jared?”

“What about him?” He scrunched up his face in confusion.

“What if he finds out about us?” Y/N asked as she panicked. Hiding this relationship from Jared was the hardest task. He was like a brother to Jensen so he didn't want to lie to him but it was important to keep him in the shadows.

“Let him find out. I don't care anymore-”

“Jensen!” Y/N exclaimed. She didn't understand what was going on in his mind.

“It's okay, Y/N.” He said.

“How is it okay?”

“Millie and I are over. I finally ended it.”

Her mouth fell open in complete surprise. Of everything she had expected, this was the last thing she was anticipating to hear. “Our relationship was long dead anyway. We have separated. I'm filing for a divorce once I go back home this week.” Y/N would lie if she said that the thought of him choosing her over his wife had never crossed her mind.

“It's all because of me, isn't it-”

“No. No, sweetheart. We were already over even before I met you. I was just too scared to admit it to myself but then I met a girl, we talked. It was epic and the thought of losing her scared me more than anything else.” Jensen caressed her cheek, a gentle smile gracing his lips. He felt a burden being lifted from his shoulders. He could finally be with the woman he truly loved.

“Does this mean no more hiding?” She said, tears pooled in her eyes. Y/N needed to hear him say it now that she could shout it from the rooftops Jensen belonged to her, and she to him.

“Being with you made me realise what I was missing. All this while, I wasted my time trying to work on a dead relationship when I should have realised sooner that it was a lost case. That you are the one I want 'cause baby, I can't quit you. Millie and I would have never worked out no matter how many couple’s therapy we went to….I have never regretted a single moment I have spent with you. I love what we have. I love you.” Her breath hitched in her throat as she took in everything he said. Her mind was reeling from his sudden declaration. A single tear rolled down her cheek, as the corners of her lips tugged up, forming a smile but she was too overwhelmed to say anything, which Jensen took the wrong way and it scared him.

“Y/N-” his smile disappeared as his hand dropped from her cheeks, “I want you to be mine. Will you be mine?” Y/N immediately moved towards him. Her hands raked through his soft hair before she pulled him in for a longing kiss.

“I didn't even realise when I became yours but I know it happened at some point, Jay. I love you so much.” Y/N said. With smiles and their eyes sparkling with newfound happiness, they stayed in bed as Y/N nuzzled into his side. Jensen's warm hands were wrapped around her and she smiled against his chest. For the first time, the fear of losing Jensen didn't cross her mind because she knew he would stay with her that night and all that would follow. She was going to wake up with him by her side and didn't have to sneak behind anyone's back anymore.

She was happy and in love and so was Jensen.

“Sam, how many times do we have to go through this? I’m a big girl; I can take care of myself. And your wrist is still healing so it’s not like you can call the shots on this one anyway. Besides, I’m not going in alone. You and Dean will be there for backup the whole time, right?”

“’Course we will, eh Sammy?” In a strange turn of events, Dean often appeared to be the one with a more jovial outlook recently.

Sam merely nodded and continued his heavy breathing. He glared down at his bandaged left wrist, the result of skirmish with a couple of wraiths, as if it were the root of all his problems. Then he looked up and through densely drawn brows, those magnetizing multicolored eyes pierced yours, his countenance bearing a charged and sullen expression of pensive exasperation as his jaw visibly tightened. You swallowed and could not for the life of you find the will to look away.

“So it’s settled then,” Dean proclaimed jubilantly, “Unless… you’ve got another reason you don’t want Y/N playing bait, hmm Sam? Maybe something you wanna share with the class? Or, you know, I could leave…”

“Dean, stop it. You’re not helping,” you quickly admonished before steadying your gaze back on the taller Winchester, “Look, Sam, have I ever let you down?”

“No. Never.”

“And do you still trust me?”

“Of course,” he responded immediately in a ‘what-kind-of-a-question-is-that’ tone, at which you simply raised your eyebrow to send him a reciprocating ‘then-what’s-the-problem?’ look.

“OK fine,” Sam huffed out a big breath, “But you’re not taking any risks! Anything seems off at all, just… promise me you’ll wait for me and Dean and keep us in the loop?”

His pleading eyes were so earnest and you’d truly never been able to say no to the giant puppy before, so you offered him a little smile and said, “Cross my heart.”

Sighing, Sam rubbed his face, looking lost in thought for a moment until he spoke up again, much more reserved and hesitant this time, “Do you still have that uh… ring from… that time?” Dean muffled a snort at his brother’s expense but you both ignored him, completely accustomed to his nonsensical teasing by now.

“Uh yeah, I- I think so.” The uncertainty in your voice was a lie. Of course you still had the ring you’d once used to pretend to be married to Sam Winchester. You may or may not have tucked it away in a special place for safekeeping.

“Good,” Sam nodded curtly, “I want you to wear it. It’s silver. I’ll wear mine too and Dean already has his. That’s how we’ll know that we’re still… ourselves.”

“OK, yeah that’s a good idea,” you agreed, trying your hardest not to linger on the memories.

“Well look at you two! Getting hitched again so soon-“

“Shut up, Dean,” you and Sam cut him off together.

When the meeting was adjourned and you were about to part ways to prepare for the upcoming hunt, something inside you forced you to call out his name, “Oh and Sam!” He turned around at once, questioning gaze somewhat urgently searching yours for a sign of what might come next. You stuttered though, feeling suddenly self conscious, so the next words you uttered were not much louder than a whisper, “Be careful with your wrist.”

Sam smiled, his dimples making your fingers twitch with the need to caress them. “I’ll be fine. You just look out for yourself. Remember, we’ll be right behind you.”

Somehow you both didn’t hear the groan Dean emitted as he rolled his eyes to the ceiling and prayed to whoever was listening, ‘Good lord, someone give me the strength to survive another day with these imbeciles.’

There was only one diner in the tiny Pennsylvanian town, and seeing as you were starving by the time you got there, the three of you were forced to make do with soggy fries and questionable milkshakes. As you ate, you went through your game plan once more, which essentially consisted of waiting until nightfall to visit the bar from where the previous girls had gone missing, while Sam and Dean shadowed you covertly.

Before you left, you took a quick trip to the loo and when you returned, Sam was stood outside alone, a broad smile upon his face.

“Where’s Dean?” you asked as you began to walk out the diner, expecting to find the older brother waiting impatiently in the parking lot by his precious car, but the Impala was gone.

“He went back to the motel, said he had something to take care of and that we should go scope the place out first.”

“But I thought we agreed to-“

“Yeah, well change of plans, you know how it is,” Sam replied casually with a shrug.

Little red flags started fluttering in your head, urging your eyes downward to locate the silver band on his finger. You frowned when you found it there untouched on his right hand; Sam almost never interrupted you, not even when he was absorbed in the foulest of moods.  

Apparently sensing your hesitation, he added, “I mean, he made a good point. Maybe if you familiarize yourself with the surroundings first, you’ll be able to take the guy out faster.”

Sam was still smiling at you, but it felt all wrong. You couldn’t explain it, but there was something missing from his rainbow eyes. The colors were all there, but they lacked luster and warmth, a delicate twinkle that you’d learned to associate with the beautiful, heroic yet self-doubting giant of a man. Never had you seen that breathtaking magic replicated elsewhere, nor had you ever seen Sam without it, which was why you were almost completely certain that the man before you was not the real Sam Winchester.

But weaving within you was a thread of doubt, insisting that you couldn’t just pull a gun on your best friend because of something as trivial as… a feeling? No, you needed to test your theory. And so, bracing yourself with a deep breath, you slowly reached out your silver-equipped hand to do something you’d grown accustomed to resentfully abstaining from: touching Sam’s bare skin. You aimed for the large target of his hand, deeming it the most inconspicuous of places (given that he was wearing his hunters’ uniform and the only other visible option would’ve been his face or neck), but Sam was faster. Just before you were able to graze his skin with your ring, he caught your wrist in his much bigger hand and pulled it away, twisting your arm until it was locked painfully behind you.

“You think you’re smart, huh?” the shifter snarled with a flash of its eyes, moving in real close as he used Sam’s immense size and his own superhuman strength to easily constrain you.

Even so, you stared up at him defiantly, unafraid, “Sam and Dean will be back.”

“That’s the plan.”

Sam’s sneering face and threatening voice were the last things you saw or heard.

You had no way of determining how much time had passed when you unceremoniously came to in what looked and smelled to be an underground sewer. As your senses sharpened and your muddled brain began to size up your current plight, you nearly scoffed at the clichéd style of your captor. Sat on a peeling wooden chair, manila rope bound your wrists together behind your back and tethered your ankles securely to each of the seat’s front legs.

Ignoring the ache in your head, you set about strategically testing the knots and the integrity of the wood. If only you could reach the silver blade in your boot. But your attempts were interrupted by the reappearance of the shifter, whose shoe hit something as he stepped before you. A metallic clang echoed through the confined space as a result and you followed the sound to find your coveted knife on the ground, far beyond your reach.

“Fucking hunters, always think they’re so clever, always one step ahead because it’s their game. Sure, we might be the monsters but you’re the predators! So let’s see how you like being the prey for once.” Shifter Sam’s upper lip curled up in a way that seemed so foreign to you as he leaned forward to rest his hands on either arm of your chair, caging you in.

The malicious glint in his eye left you with no qualms about affronting this being who, for all intents and purposes, appeared identical to the man you’d recently discovered you were in love with. Lifting your chin, you glared up at him brazenly, “If you’re so keen on being the predator then why am I still alive? What are you waiting for?”

“Why your knight in shining armor of course!” he exclaimed, backing up as he stood to his full height and gestured to himself with both hands. “You think it was a coincidence that all those women looked like you?”

The shifter’s narrowed eyes were alight with amusement and a ripple of fear surged through your body. You were in much deeper than you or the boys had anticipated, though years of practice helped you keep your voice steady and bold, “What did you do to them?”

“Oh, I gave them a fairly painless death, don’t you worry. They were just stepping stones on my way to you. See, the Winchesters owe me a girlfriend, so I figured I’d take the closest thing to theirs. But imagine my joyous surprise when I got into this big lug’s head and discovered that he’s in love with you! No, actually it’s more than that. He’s obsessed with you; you never leave his brain! Every other thought and memory is about you... Well, it’s either you or his brother, but oh, it’s gonna kill him to see you die before his eyes. I might’ve been able to replace my dead girlfriend, but I don’t think Sam here will ever come back from losing you.”

Stunned into silence, the stupid influx of misguided hormones pumping through your veins forced you to focus on maintaining a neutral expression as he rattled on.

“And you feel the same way, don’t you? So this really will be a double kill. It’s OK, you can let it all out. I might be a monster but I’m not one to deny the dying their chance for some last words. Besides, you can say it all while looking into the eyes of the man you love.”

“Fuck you,” were the only words you could trust yourself to spit out at him.

‘Sam’ laughed, but it was nothing like the laughs you normally pulled from him. It didn’t radiate like sunshine or replenish your soul with glee. Rather, it was chilling and conniving and despite the mimicry of Sam’s beautiful voice, you immediately decided that you never wanted to hear it again.

“Not feeling too talkative, huh? Or maybe you’d rather wait until he gets here in the flesh to make that anticlimactic confession of love? That’s alright, I can just tell you more about this dumbass’s feelings for you.” The shifter chuckled with delight, as if every word brought him nothing but pure joy. “Man, he loves you so much, it’s insane. I’ve never been inside the skin of someone so in love. And I thought I really loved my ex. Afterall, this whole revenge thing is for her. But I gotta tell ya, I’ve got nothing on Sam Winchester. Did you know he thinks you were made specifically for him? You ever feel like that? Like you were just destined for someone? Cause Sam does. That’s how he feels about you.”

“Why should I believe you?” you challenged, growing tired of the inadvertent response his words were eliciting. Your heart was pounding in your neck, core trembling at the mere possibility of Sam genuinely feeling the way he’d described. But you knew better than to trust a monster, and one who was in pursuit of maximal vengeance no less. Still, those rose-colored thoughts resonated within you, and you stumbled to dismiss them as they bubbled up, one after another like a game of emotional whack-a-mole.

Shifter Sam smirked, “Yeah, you’re a cynical one, aren’t you? You know everything he said in that marriage counseling session was true. You kinda hurt his feelings when you just brushed it all off. Even big brother Dean’s been trying to get him to confess his love for you. You must’ve heard them arguing about it at some point? They weren’t exactly being discreet.”

Choosing not to respond, you simply scowled at him.

“No? Still in denial? Perhaps you need details… You ever notice how he always sits across from you whenever you’re doing research? It’s because he thinks you’re gorgeous when you’re focused, and it gives him an opportunity to admire you without getting caught. And why do you think he lets you call him Sammy, huh? Yeah, he might not let it on but he fucking loves it when you do, makes him feel all tingly inside. And you remember that cop who hit on you? Captain Anderson, was it? Sam wanted to break the guy’s nose just for touching you. Oh and why do you think he asked you to move into the bedroom closest to his? It’s so he can keep track of your nightmares. He likes to keep you close because it makes him feel like he can protect you better when you need it.”

By now, your ‘neutral expression’ must have surely mutated to betray your shock, and you couldn’t have answered if you tried. The shifter didn’t seem to mind either way. In fact, he appeared to be having the time of his life.

“And it’s not all pure thoughts, let me tell you! Oh man, buddy boy here has dreamed up plenty of X-rated scenes with you, ranging from obnoxiously romantic to just plain obscene. You name a position and he’s imagined it, in high-definition detail,” he embellished, tapping an index finger against his temple, “His mind is like a library of pornos starring the two of you, although he’ll never get to live out any of his fantasies, will he? It’s a shame really; some of these are really hot... Ooh, I’ll have to borrow that one,” he said with closed eyes, as if a figment of Sam’s imagination was playing through his head in that very moment, “Maybe my girl and I can re-enact it while we’re still in your skins-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” you finally bellowed in protest.

Sam watched the bathroom door attentively after you’d disappeared through it, unable to contain the upward jerk of his lips when he saw you walking back out of it. Heartwarming relief had become his body’s intrinsic response to seeing you safe and sound.

“You ready?” he questioned when you made it to his side.

“Yeah, I’m good.” God, even the sound of your voice made him happy.

Once you got back to the motel, Dean plopped down onto one of the full-size beds, exhausted from the drive. Within a matter of seconds, snores began to fill the room, and Sam chuckled under his breath as he sat down around a wobbly table with you to continue your research on the shifter’s victims, hoping to find something else that linked them together or a clue as to where they might’ve been taken.

It wasn’t long before you inhaled a revelatory gasp and abruptly clutched Sam’s wrist to show him what you’d found. But your grip was harsh, causing him to hiss in pain and do something he’d never before done: recoil from your touch.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does it still hurt?” you asked nonchalantly, smiling up at him innocently.

Worse than the pain in his fractured wrist was what felt like sirens blaring in his head. You were always hyper-cognizant of his injuries and exceedingly careful around them, sometimes even more so than himself. Sam looked you over subtly, eyes landing on the silver ring still upon your finger. Perhaps his mind had been playing tricks on him and all that tender attention he thought you’d shown him was simply a mirage of his own wishful thinking?

“It’s fine, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Sam sent you a tight smile, to which you responded with a dazzling one of your own. It was beautiful but something about it felt off. In the past, you apologized profusely if ever you found yourself the accidental cause of his discomfort, no matter how indirect or insignificant the case, but right now there wasn’t a single speck of concern in your eyes. Indeed, the more he looked into them, the more he struggled to recognize the person staring back at him.

In a flash, Sam had you up against the wall, a silver blade held against your neck. He looked down to see the metal sizzling there, burning your flesh, and cursed himself for failing to notice sooner.

The noise woke Dean from his slumber and what he saw when he opened his eyes was equal parts shocking and amusing. “Whoa! At least wait till I’m out of the room! And isn’t that a little kinky for your first time?”

“Dean, it’s not her. She’s not Y/N,” Sam grit out, “She’s wearing the ring but she’s not Y/N.”

His brother’s brows knit together as he rubbed the sleep from his emerald greens. “Wha- How did you know?”

“She was acting… weird.”

Dean scrambled off the bed, making a quick call on his phone to ensure you really were missing. He paled when a robotic voice over the line told him the number he was trying to reach was no longer in service.

It was then the shifter decided to speak up, “You know, the real Y/N would have liked this, you pressing her up against a wall?” she murmured suggestively.

“Shut up. Where is she?!” Sam slammed her body against the flimsy motel wall once more and dug the knife in a little deeper. In his panic-stricken state, he barely registered her remark, being driven entirely by a one-track mind at present.

Shifter Y/N grimaced slightly, glancing down at the knife, “Maybe if you stop cutting into me with that, I might consider telling you.”

“How did you get the ring?”

“Oh, this little thing? You like it? It’s imitation silver, but otherwise nearly identical to the one on the real Y/N’s finger. You see, we’ve been following you for a while now.”

“Who’s we? Where did you take Y/N?!” he demanded incessantly.

“My boyfriend’s got her, but don’t worry, he looks just like you so I’m sure she’ll find her accommodations to her liking,” she retorted with a smirk.

Sam’s heart lunged in his chest and his mind began whirring with endless possibilities of escalating dread. Had you been deceived and captured by a shifter pretending to be him? Were you being hurt or tortured by someone who looked exactly like him? How would you ever be able to look at him the same way again? Of course, you’d know it wasn’t Sam but the damage would still be done. You would forever remember his face as that of someone who once hurt you, who tried to kill you. That is, if Sam could make it to you in time.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see her one last time. That’s actually why I’m here, to take you to her when the time is right,” the shifter added casually.

“I will end your miserable fucking life! Tell me where she is right now!” Sam roared before pressing the blade further into her neck, the veins in his forearms ready to burst through his skin.

“Hey, hey! Sammy, ease up! We need her alive, alright?” Dean bounded over to his brother and after quite the struggle, managed to assuage him enough to release his vice grip and replace it with silver chains that shackled her to a chair.

“Sam, maybe we should also be asking ‘why’,” Dean mused as he fastened the end of a chain against one of the beds.

With a shake of his head, Sam avowed through grinding teeth, “I don’t fucking care. I have to get to her.”

“And what if it’s a trap?”

“Then I’ll find her myself.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief as he turned to his usually wise and level-headed little brother, “Oh yeah, and how’re you gonna do that? Where would you even start?”

“I don’t know!” Sam exclaimed in exasperation. Then, after a pause of desperate deliberation alleged, “Shifters like to make their lairs in sewers, right?”

Taking a step closer, Dean maintained his challenging tone, “So what are you gonna do, just wade through the entire town’s shit and piss until you find her?!”

“If that's what it takes, then yes!” Sam looked like he was about to eat his brother alive.

“Aww, that’s so sweet,” shifter Y/N interfered from her seated position before them, raising her chin to meet Sam’s eyes, “Don’t worry, handsome, I can tell you she feels the same way. But unfortunately, by the time you get to her, I don’t think she’ll be able to tell you herself. In fact, you’ll probably hardly recognize her anymore… so you might want to keep me around, if only as a souvenir of your soon-to-be-dead girlfriend.”

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. Despite looking like a carbon copy of you, the evil gleam in the shifter’s eyes made her easily differentiable, and so Sam held back nothing when he lunged across the distance, knife in hand ready to do some real damage. However, Dean pounced with him, having predicted his brother’s violent eruption and felt his shaking wrath, knowing a little too well just how rash he could be when it came to you. Still, it took all of Dean’s strength to pull Sam back, sending him a stern but knowing look once he did.

“Sam, stop!” His low voice rumbled as he went into authoritative big brother mode, “Listen to me, you wanna save Y/N? Well so do I, but this is not how we do it! Now I know it’s hard, but I need you to calm down, alright?”

Sam’s massive chest was practically at his chin as he heaved ginormous breaths. Though his body language was still offensive, his hazel eyes were filled with fear and devastation when they looked toward his brother, “Dean, if I don't get to her in time, I’ll...” Clenching his jaw, Sam made a fruitless attempt to calm his tremoring frame and quell his tumultuous emotions. What would he do? Sam wasn’t even sure himself. All he knew was that every cell in his being was currently screaming at him to get to you, to make sure you were safe and soothe away any of your pain. There was nothing he wouldn’t give in that moment to simply know you were alright and to hold you in his arms. He knew you could look after yourself, but for once he had a terrifying feeling that even you were in over your head, that you might actually need him this time, and he’d be fucking damned if he let you down.

“Woah! Hey, hey! Sammy, look at me! That ain’t gonna happen, alright? We’re gonna find Y/N and we’re gonna bring her home in one piece, you hear me? We’re the Winchesters, man! We’ve faced the end of the world. What’s a couple of shifters got on us?”

‘You,’ Sam thought, ‘They’ve got you.’ But he appreciated Dean’s pep talk nonetheless and nodded in response as a fresh surge of determination swelled within him.

“Alright then,” Dean nodded as well, “Why don’t you let me give her a go?”

As Dean’s silver blade cut into the detained shapeshifter, Sam flinched with every moan and howl of agony. He knew it wasn’t you, but she still had your voice and your perfect face. Yet not a second was wasted on the feeling of relief when they finally managed to get a location out of her. Sam nearly tripped over himself in his haste as he snatched the Impala’s keys and his gun before flying out of the room with a jumbled order for Dean to stay with the monster.

“Well, if you’re not gonna admit your feelings for the giant lumberjack, I guess you’re right. Maybe I should stop yapping and get to prettying you up for that first and last date of yours, huh?” Shifter Sam prodded your cheek with a switchblade.

You said nothing. At this point, you had a sneaking suspicion that physical pain might be more bearable than the psychological torment your imprisoner had been so keen on. It was one thing for you to torture yourself by entertaining the slim possibility that Sam might return your feelings for him, but to hear such outrageous perceptions from a creature who could read the inside of his mind like a paperback novel, and conveyed with such tantalizing conviction… well, it just about broke you.

And knowing that the shifter was yearning to coax a confession out of you simply to cause Sam as much anguish as possible made you more resolute about your refusal to submit, beyond the need to protect your own sanity.

One shiner and a slash to the thigh later, however, you heard a loud clash. Shifter Sam paused his handiwork and began to turn around, “Could your knight be here ahead of schedule?”

‘Dammit,’ you thought. The Winchesters were usually capable of being stealthy when necessary but in case it really was the sound of them making a blunder or encountering some other form of resistance, you figured you’d buy them a distraction.

“Wait, wait! You’re right, OK? Maybe I do feel something for Sam, but even if I told him, I think you’re forgetting… This is Sam fucking Winchester we’re talking about here. He’s been tortured by the devil himself. You really think killing me is going do much damage?”

Your abductor had now given you his full attention, leering at you with a sly smile, so you continued, “Besides, you picked a fight with the Winchesters; don't expect to live to see tomorrow.”

Right on cue, a hulking blur of hair and plaid came barreling in, growling ferally as he grabbed the shifter and threw more than one brutal punch against what appeared to be his own face. The silver ring on Sam’s hand made contact with skin and his shifter counterpart groaned in pain.

You nearly forgot about your ceaseless work of untying the rope that cuffed your wrists together as your looked on in shock. Why Sam hadn’t just shot him with a silver bullet was beyond you. He was smarter than this. There was no need to drag out a monster’s death if a more efficient option existed. But as he continued to engage his clone in hand-to-hand combat, it appeared almost as if he was venting his frustrations on the shifter, as if he drank up every ounce of hurt he was able to inflict. But his high only lasted so long and shifter Sam soon regained his balance, making use of his supernatural invulnerability and superior strength.

“Sam!” you screamed as the shifter threw him across the room.

He tumbled up just in time as the shifter meandered over, “So nice of you to join us, Sam. You know, Y/N here was just telling me about-“

Sam didn’t wait for him to finish, choosing instead to tackle him to the floor with a loud grunt. While they wrestled on the ground, you worked furiously at the knots behind you, wincing with every hit Sam took though it was becoming hard to tell them apart.

When Sam finally drew his gun, the shifter was able to divert its barrel and a shot rang out futilely. Catching a subsequent elbow to the ribs had Sam falling to his knees and you watched in horror as shifter Sam once again gained the upper hand, sending the gun flying out of Sam’s grasp. The binding around your wrists was just about undone when Sam seized a stray rusty pipe and swung it against his counterfeit. Shifter Sam was incapacitated for a brief instant but quickly returned to form with some vicious hooks and a couple of well-placed knees.

With your hands finally free of their restraints, you staggered over to the gun, the chair still attached at your ankles. As you took aim, you shouted, “Sam, get down!” before you shot his mirror image through the heart.

Sighing, you slumped to your hands and knees whilst the real Sam sat up with his back against a wall, gaping at you with a look of awe. Yet before he even caught his breath, he was up and gliding toward you, cradling his left wrist at an awkward angle.

“Sam, your wrist!”

“It’s fine, are you OK?” he swiftly dismissed your concern, cupping your face with his good hand as he examined the darkening bruise around your eye.

You ignored the palpitations in your chest and placed a hand upon his wrist, “Yeah, I’m fine. He wasted more time playing mind games than anything. You know villains and their monologues,” you joked, trying to ease his tension and the deluded self-imposed guilt you knew he must’ve been brewing in.

As if to prove your point, Sam lamented, “God, I’m so sorry. I should have known. I should have gotten here sooner.”

“What? No! They were miles ahead of us, Sam. The whole thing was a set up; this was their hunt. How could you have known?”

Rather than replying, he released a breath and busied himself trying to help you out of your binding.

Back at the motel, after icing your eye and stitching up your thigh, you insisted on re-wrapping Sam’s wrist while Dean took care of shifter Y/N’s remains. But when the older Winchester returned and spied you and his brother sitting together on a bed through a crack in the door, he couldn’t resist the chance to exercise his espionage skills.

“How did you know she wasn’t me anyway?” you asked as you gently wound the ace bandage around Sam’s swollen forearm.

“I just…” He looked down at your nimble fingers upon his skin and smiled unwittingly at their tender touch, “had a feeling.”

Sam’s sunflower gaze locked onto yours for a frozen instant and something about his soft expression made you forget what words were, until he cleared his throat, “Did you um- did you know he wasn’t me?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, smiling for some strange reason. Perhaps you were just glad to see his trademark twinkle return to those otherworldly eyes. “Pretty soon after actually. I… had a feeling too.”

Sam’s dimples made every ache in your body disappear as that twinkle glistened in full force, “And how’d you know which one to shoot?”

Well, that dampened your mood and brought you back to the task at hand, “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you kept grimacing every time you used your left wrist?” Although your words had a bitter force behind them, the pressure beneath your fingertips never increased and Sam had almost completely forgotten about his pain.

You, on the other hand, were reminded of your struggle to reconcile with what had happened since his question prompted a restored and growing frustration.

It had been bugging you the whole time and you felt compelled to confront him about it because storming in alone with a bad wrist, ready to throw hands with an out-of-his-league monster was really not Sam’s style. Something must’ve gotten into him and with everything the shifter had told you, you couldn’t help but wonder. Nevertheless, you were a little afraid of how he might answer, so Dean had to lean in closer to hear your next words.

“Why didn’t you just shoot him?”

“W-what do you mean?” Sam stammered out after a pause.

“Sam, you have a broken wrist, but instead of sending Dean or using your gun from the get-go, you came in like a madman and went after him with your fists!” Your voice was full of incredulity though it also carried an undertone of anger.

As Sam picked up on that reproachful tone, you could almost feel the telltale signs of his puppy dog eyes coming on. “He used my face to deceive you, to hurt you. They manipulated us. I had to- ...I mean, he killed those women just to get us here. He had it coming!”

Your hopes plummeted. Of course, Sam was ever the righteous man. Why would you assume his brashness had been purely born out of a need to avenge you? Though regardless of his reason, you were still upset about his self-destructing behavior, “Yeah, but you had to have realized you were in no position to be the one to give it to him, right? I mean, you might’ve looked the same but he was juiced up on monster superpowers, Sam… which meant he was stronger and faster, not to mention uninjured, in his own territory, and apparently the only one with a sound plan.”

A breath of laughter left Sam’s lips though there was no smile on his face. Here he’d been on a mission to save you, but you were the one who’d ended up saving him, again. You must’ve thought he was comically stupid and pathetically useless. How could he possibly think he was worthy of you? “I guess I should thank you for saving my ass again, huh?”

“What?! No! That’s not what I mean. Sam, you’re the one who saved me! And I’m beyond grateful for it, really I am. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself more in the process.” You finally finished up with his wrist wrap, securing the final ends with a clip, and letting your hands linger on his for longer than necessary, momentarily distracted by the disparity of size between them. Sam didn’t appear uncomfortable though, as his fingers twitched closer to yours and he made no move to pull away.

He couldn’t help but smile again when he noticed the sincere concern in your eyes that was previously absent in the shifter’s. “Yeah well, what was it you once said to me? ‘Your ass will always be worth it’?” 

“And if I remember correctly, you once told me you don’t do things on hunts that make your injuries worse,” you quoted him back with an arched brow.

“Yeah well, I guess this is payback. Now you know how I felt.” A playful grin made his dimples deepen and you clenched your jaw to refrain from gushing over the ridiculous cuteness of this ‘giant lumberjack’.

“You’re an idiot.”

“As long as you’re OK,” Sam answered assuredly, and you nearly melted when his free hand caressed your cheek for the second time that day, big thumb tracing a feather-light path below the purpled skin.

‘You’re both fucking idiots,’ Dean groaned internally from the other side of the door. He knew he had no choice but to up his game.

thanks so much for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!

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And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.

Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam. 

Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.

He hated it.

‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’

Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.

‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’

‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.

He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’

You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’

‘’And you can!’’

He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.

‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’

In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.

Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’

‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.

‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’

‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’

‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration. 

I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.

You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’

But I can’t.

Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’

You would think I’m a crazy liar.

‘’I already do.’’

You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.

‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.

Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.

It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.

But you stopped him.

‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.

The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’

Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’

Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.

Who cares?

Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’

‘’Kiss me.’’

And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.

He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.

Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.

Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.

You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.

Real monsters found them.

A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?

You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’

He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’

‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’

He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’ 

‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’ 

‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.

Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.

You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?

Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.

Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’

‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.

He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.

But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas. 

‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’

‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.

‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.

‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’

If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’

Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.

‘’I love you too.’’

It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.

Hurt flashed in Dean’s eyes at your words; so clear and obvious, you did a double take.

“I’m not running away. Just headed to that cabin in Montana to clear my head,” you breathed out.

“Why?” One word. Of course, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush. Not Dean- straight to the point- Winchester. “Why’d you need to clear your head?”

I love you, Dean. I love you and I can’t go on pretending that I don’t.

“Last case... it got to me.” You gulped, blinking rapidly. “I just- I need some time off.”

Dean huffed out a breath. You watched as he pushed himself out of the chair and came to stand right in front of you. His warm breath caressed your face as he whispered, “You wanna drive up to that cabin? Then do it. But don’t lie about why you’re doing it... I know you, Y/N/N.”

Something inside you snapped. Glaring at Dean, the words slipped past your lips. “If you know me that well, why can’t you see the obvious, Dean?”

His eyes, those beautiful green eyes regarded you with so much tenderness, in that moment, you were convinced that he knew. 

Oh, God, he knows.

Bile rose to your throat, mind jumping to the obvious conclusion- Dean must’ve always known how hopelessly you loved him and all these years he’d been enduring that discomfort, the absolute unease of living through your unrequited love.

You couldn’t get out of there faster. As you made a move to leave, Dean blocked your path. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me why you’re leaving.” 

Trapped between the wall and Dean’s body, you simply couldn’t stop the tears. What was the point in keeping it a secret? “I’m leaving because I can’t stop falling in love with you, dammit! I can’t. I’ve tried and tried and tried. The harder I try, the harder I fall for you... and you?” A scoff. “You don’t feel the same way.”

It was all out now and you couldn’t bear to look at him. Dean was kind; it was in his nature to empathize. But it wasn’t in yours to live through his pity.

His finger came up to your chin, tilting your head so that you couldn’t help but look into his eyes. Dean didn’t say another word. Instead, his lips crushed against yours, hot and soft. He was kissing you with a fervor, with everything he had to offer. Dean’s fingers fisted in the back of your tank top, digging into your skin through the fabric. His body pushed you into the wall behind you. He wasn’t just kissing you, he was proving a point- dispelling your notions of being in a hopeless, one-sided love. Because lust couldn’t drive a kiss like that, only love could.

His lips travelled down the column of your throat, sucking, biting and driving you crazy.

“You wanna go to that cabin in Montana? By all means, go. But don’t go thinking I don’t feel the same way,” he whispered against your heaving chest. “Don’t go thinking I don’t love you.”  

“Dean...”

He leaned in to kiss you once more, soundly. Next second you found yourself pressed against his chest, his broad arms engulfing you completely. The words he said then, etched themselves into your soul.

“It’s always gonna be you, Y/N. Always.”

 ***************

When Dean was saying that, Sam never expected him to fall in love with the woman they would save that night. Well, unfortunately they weren't fast enough to prevent any harm to the girl. When they arrived and Dean killed the nasty creature, Y/n was almost dead. The monster had already raped her, tortured her … and when he felt the hunters enter the place, he drank almost all of her blood, to gain more energy to fight. So as always, Dean was up to blaming himself. Of course only in his own eyes, not anyone else's.

"Call Cas to come home. Tell him it's an emergency."

Dean told his brother when he finally could get Y/n out of those ropes. And Sam knew he was right. At that point, no one could save Y/n unless God or his angels. Maybe she was not so lucky coming across a nasty supernatural creature like that but she was lucky enough that Cas arrived just on time and healed her. However, angels can only heal physical wounds. But Y/n was hurt much more than that. She couldn't just move on from the things that the bastard had put her through. Even after Cas tricked her brain to forget some certain things, she still had bad nightmares and had this dark shade of hopelessness in her eyes. Soon, she started to eat and talk less and less. And Dean just couldn't let her go. He really wanted to fix all of that for her but she kept shutting him out… until the depression hit her. It was so bad that Cas felt the need to tell them to prepare themselves for her death. Because after all those days and unlike everything else in their lives, The Winchesters were already used to her presence around them; like the way a lonely person can get used to a wounded cat more and faster than anyone else.

"I'm not gonna hunt until I'm sure she can live her normal life." When Dean stated that, Sam really thought he was joking. But after a few days he started to believe it. Dean truly would do anything to keep her alive. From cooking vegetables to laughing at his own dad jokes in front of Y/n to make her smile. That was when Sam started to feel that they can be more than a random hunter/rescued victim relationship! It felt like his brother had finally found his motivation in life: "Saving Y/n."

Gradually Y/n started to respond to this special attention from Dean with trust and smiles. Soon they became a power couple that could motivate each other so easily that sometimes Charlie would call them out. And honestly Sam had no problem with it. In fact Y/n had become his other sister.

"My God, Dean! You're burning up!" It was two day after a werewolf hunt in which Dean had got hurt. At first it was just some scratches on his arms and chest. Yet as the time passed, more symptoms started to appear: headache, pain, fever, cold sweat, even nose bleeding and before they could figure it out, Dean fell unconscious. Apparently the claws of the werewolf were poisonous. However Sam wasn't sure. The only thing he got no doubts about was the fact that it was already too late. Dean couldn't make it to the hospital. So either Sam had to do anything possible to save him or Cas should've picked up his God damn phone.

"No. no, no, no, no. Dean … Dean!!!"

That was when Sam got to hear Y/n's helpless cry and see her true feelings. She was already in love with his brother.

Luckily, unlike typical love stories; no one died that night. Sam's antidote worked. And Dean opened his eyes an hour later.

"Sammy … Y/n?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Y/n grabbed his face and put her thirsty lips on her beloved hunter's, letting the tears stream down on her face… and then his.

"Never do that again." She begged, breaking the kiss, her trembling hands holding Dean's face so she could look into his eyes.

Sam couldn't stop his smile remembering how cute they were. Y/n literally had Dean wrapped around her little finger, to the point he accepted to teach her how to hunt and soon she was part of their team too. Until … a few months ago. After two years of them being constantly close to each other, Sam could tell something was off when Dean started to go out without eating breakfast with Y/n. Of course she got suspicious after the third time and that was when their endless arguments started.

"Why don't you just tell me what's wrong?"

"Because nothing is wrong, Y/n."

Actually there was. Something was VERY wrong. Anyone could tell that just by the change in Dean's eyes whenever he wanted to look at Y/n. Day by day he was getting more quiet and cold. Now they didn't even eat pie together or watch movies late at night. And Sam couldn't ignore his brother being grumpy or drunk on hunts, not anymore.

"Ok man, I've had enough. You either tell me what's wrong with you or next time I won't make any excuses so you can leave Y/n out of our hunt plans. I'm serious, Dean, I'll tell her the truth." He finally said, when they were alone in the impala, on their way to do their next hunt.

"She wants more."

"More?"

"Yeah. Sometimes it's like she sees more in me. She thinks we can have a different life. There's no need for any saying, I can see it in her eyes whenever we accidentally come across some family at a diner that try to feed their kids or people's wedding photos whenever we go to talk with some witnesses or whoever during the research! Sometimes she even looks up wedding dresses or kid stuff on the net!" Dean blew his anger out of his nostrils and sighed, shaking his head.

"Wow." Sam couldn't find the proper word to say but he couldn't hide his surprised face either.

"What?" Dean gave him an annoyed look.

"I mean …" Sam chuckled. "… are you telling me you're actually angry with her for imagining the things you always dream about?!"

"Sam …"

"No, really. I'm just curious. What's wrong with you, man?" Sam asked genuinely, waiting for an answer.

"What's wrong with me?! You think something is wrong with me just because I'm the rational one in this relationship; who's actually able to see the difference between a dream and the reality?"

Yeah, anyone could take that earnest speech, but not Sam. He'd seen and knew enough about his brother.

"What's the reality? Aren't you and Y/N living that dream life already?"

"What?! No. No … that's not the same." Dean shook his head.

"Really? How is it not? It's been two years, Dean. You two are constantly with and/or around each other. Always worried when the other one is in trouble and still looking at one another like there is nothing in the world that can make you happy as much as this relationship. So … excuse me if I won't buy your pretty speech; man ." Sam said, Rolling his eyes.

"Ok, let's say you're right but ... is it gonna be like that forever? With all the supernatural crap that we have to take care of … and the constant danger and chaos in this hunter life we have… I …"

"You what?" Sam asked when Dean didn't finish his sentence. He was lost in his thoughts, staring at this unknown point in the depth of the road. Finally he blew out his despair.

"I just can't let her fall for the things I know I can't provide for her. It's not fair, Sammy. It's not fair to lock her up in this dark life with me just because she loves me … especially while I know there is a whole bright future out there waiting for her."

"Here we go, the old Dean's self-doubt" Sam thought to himself as he took a deep breath before finding the best words to wake his brother up from this nightmare

"Yeah, I know but I don't think it's your call. If Y/n wants to go to hell with you instead of living in heaven with someone else, it's her choice. Not your responsibility. Right?"

Dean shook his head while his lips curved up a little to fake a smile but he never answered or said anything about that conversation ever again. He kept his silence for like three weeks … until someone new showed up: "Gary Smith". A tall man with the most stylish haircut and the most perfect teeth and smile.

They saw him for the first time at their hangout bar, as the new bartender who almost jumped in Y/n's way as soon as they entered the bar.

"Oh my God, bunny! Is this really you?" He said, pulling her in his embrace. Like she was the long time missing piece of his beloved puzzle!

"Bonny? You're wrong. Her name is Y/n." Dean said, pretty annoyed by the way Gary tightened his arms around Y/n's little shoulders, making him chuckle.

"No, uh … it's just a nickname." Y/n said as soon as the guy let her go.

"Yeah, actually the most fitting nickname that I could think of. I mean … you have to agree. She got the most cute little ears in the world." The guy explained, chuckling and pulling on her little star earring. Well, if Sam wanted to be honest, he had to agree with him. He never paid any attention to it before but now that Gary mentioned it, he could tell Y/n's ears were truly small.

"I see … So … I guess this means you were close friends?" Dean said, already hating the way Y/n e's blushed with hearing her old nickname.

"Uh … well, no. Actually more than that." The guy grinned, ruffling his own hair while he was awkwardly laughing and looking at Y/n. Just like a proud embarrassed teen!

"We used to date." Y/n said.

*oh* Sam tried his best not to let that stupid grin sit on his lips but Dean's frown and his sudden heavy silence didn't let him do so.

"Yeah. We are kinda each other's first. Like … you know? prom date." The man added, giving Y/n a wink while Dean's gaze was still locked on his large arm around her shoulders.

"Yeah. It's been years, Gary."

"I know. But believe me, bunny. you still look the same." He said, bending to put a kiss on her right cheek.

Dean would kill him. Sam just knew that. Because his brother's eyes were already burning with jealousy.

"By the way, don't you wanna tell me who these gentlemen are ?" The guy asked Y/n, giving her his softest smile.

"Of course. This is Sam and this is Dean. My colleagues who are my friends now. I live in their place."

After they met, everything got even more complicated. Y/n, the girl who was still trying to get old-happy-days Dean back suddenly stopped whatever she used to do. No more complains, no waiting at nights to see Dean before going to bed, no more effort to get involved in hunts, no nothing. And despite what Dean had claimed before, it was making Dean even more frustrated. Day to day he and Y/n were getting colder towards each other and there was nothing he could do to fix it. That was what made him even more furious. Sam already knew all of that and he still had to live with both of those grumpy faces. So last night when they began to fight, he could see this was coming: Y/n left the bunker after Dean let some hurtful things out of his mouth, just because he didn't know how to deal with all the heartache anymore. He now was convinced that Y/n didn't love him anymore. Yet the next day after drinking whatever strong drink they had, he begged Sam to come with him. Apparently Jodie texted Dean about Y/n being in her place for that night. Just to make sure that her crazy step son won't sell his soul over a tracking spell! So Dean almost begged his brother to be there with him, cause Dean believed that as much as Y/n didn't care about him, she still respected Sam and cared about him. Like a little sister and her elder brother.

So here they were, In Jodie's living room, in front of her and Y/n.

"Considering your sleepy eyes, I think we caught you at bed time, huh?" Sam asked, checking Y/n's obvious eye bags.

"Who says that? I'm totally good, Sam."

She said with a small smile, looking much more in control and stronger than before. So Sam knew it was a lie. Y/n Just had made her peace with what had happened last night. The realization۹ kicked Dean in the gut. Y/n always used to be stronger and bolder when she got hurt.

"I'm gonna make some coffee for us. Why don't you guys take a seat till I come back?"

Jodie interrupted, to ease the heavy and sharp silence that suddenly had fallen over all of them.

Y/n gave her a smile.

"Of course."

It was so fake. Her smile didn't even curl her lips completely. She was still badly hurting.

Sam swore in his head when he looked over his brother who sank silently into the nearest seat at the end of the table like a broken shell that he was too . One of Dean's hands was in the pocket of his jacket, the other formed a fist on the table. Sam was sure Dean knew it too. He knew everything was almost past saving. "Almost". Sam tried to stick to their small chance.

"So …" He cleared his voice before he put some (semi fake) hope into his words."You're … you're gonna come back home today or did Alex and Claire made you promise them otherwise?" He laughed and tried to make it funny but the truth was he asked this for Dean's sake, knowing he already was struggling to find the words … to let Y/n know how much he wanted her back … to ask her to come back.

"To be honest … I don't think I can live in the bunker anymore." Y/n said and as Dean's head snapped up to look at her in horror, she raised her hand to stop his (likely) protests.

"I applied for a job 3 weeks ago and to my surprise they called me this morning to tell me I'd actually got it."

*What?*

No one had to ask it. The question was already hung in the air. She snored mockingly in her nose. "Perfect timing, right?"

She moved her gaze from her interlocked fingers on the table to Dean's eyes.

He didn't answer, he didn't move but he got tense. Still staring back at Y/n.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sam asked, once again saving Dean from asking the question he was itching to ask with some other words that for sure couldn't be nice.

"I wanted to but I didn't think I could actually get it and even if I did, I never figured out how to tell you. Besides, I never considered the "move out" option before..." She looked at Sam for a second before she turned her gaze on Dean. "... But I actually appreciate that you bring it up. I think now I can take the advice. I'm gonna move on."

Sam's heart dropped in his stomach when he heard those words. Because he knew what this meant. It felt something like having to watch Dean get stabbed in the heart.

"Is this … because of that Bartender?" Dean asked, staring deadly at Y/n with his bloodshot eyes. He was already chewing on his bottom lip. And Sam knew a heavy storm was on its way to hit them.

"I don't want to answer that question."

*shit*

"Why? Because you can't just simply say no?" Dean scolded and Sam could see how it pushed on Y/n boundaries.

"No. Because it's not your fucking business and it's not Gary's business either. But at least he knows his limits."

*well, fuck*

"By "limits" you mean when he drools on you just because for God knows whatever the reason, you started to wear leather jackets when we go there?"

"WHAT?!"

*Oh, fuck* Sam thought to himself, watching Y/n rise from her seat.

"You think … you really think that I …" she laughed nervously and Sam could tell she would punch Dean in the face if she wasn't a sweet, super nice person.

"How you can even …"

"I can even what, Y/n? Are we now going to pretend like I'm a blind man who can't see how you got attracted to your ex again? Did you really think I couldn't see how your hands were shaking when his filthy face lighted up by seeing you for the first time after all these years?"

Sam wanted to interrupt him or at least leave the room but everything was happening so fast.

"So what? Why and since when you care about my private life?"

"Since you stopped drinking bunker's beers just because you rather drink those crappy poisonous cocktails he makes at the bar!"

Dean was on his feet now as well. And despite his will, Sam couldn't stop his smile. He never saw his brother this jealous before. It was fun.

"Poisonous? … You … of all people, you are the one who says this? cause as much as I know, you're the one who puts dormitives in my guest's food so the poor guy gets tired and can't spend his time with me!"

"Yeah, because your poor guy is not welcomed in MY PLACE!" Dean yelled, punching the table with so much power that made everyone almost jump out of their skins.

"Dean!" Finally Sam interrupted but as soon as he stood up, someone rang the doorbell and Sam could hear Jodie welcoming someone inside.

"Guys … I know it's not my place to interfere but you two really need to sort things out somewhere private … of course that's when both of you can be much calmer than this."

"No, we have nothing to say or to talk about, anymore. Your brother was clear enough when he said he wants me to move out, so I'll move out. And that's it."

Y/n declared, looking at Sam to resist any eye contact with Dean, probably to make him even more crazy.

"And that's it? You wanna ignore that part where you were too eager and ready to accept that suggestion and leave the bunker instantly like your pants were on fire?!"

Dean retorted while Y/n was shaking her head like she couldn't believe him.

"Whose pants are on fire?" Jodie interrupted as soon as she re-entered the room with the coffees she'd made, this time a man was with her. Y/n's guy. The famous bartender.

*Oh, No!*

Sam sighed, closing his eyes for a second so the guy couldn't read his face.

"Obviously not mine." Dean hissed through his teeth, looking first at the guy and then at Y/n with such a disappointment and rage that no one could ignore.

"Hey, what's wrong?" The guy asked, choosing the worst spot to stand on: right next to Y/n.

"My typical life I guess. Nothing's new." She mumbled in reply to him but her eyes were still on Dean.

"No, nothing is wrong with your life, Y/n. It's about your choices. That's what's wrong with you. As always." Dean said bitterly. As sharp as a knife, as cold as ice. Sam could see how it drained color from Y/n's face.

"You better watch your mouth, buddy." The Gary guy warned Dean and Sam could tell that if it wasn't for the sudden thud sound that stole everyone's attention, Dean would throw a fight right there. But …

"Y/n!" Jodie almost screamed. Y/n was laying on the floor, seemingly unconscious.

"Oh, God." Sam said as Jodie rushed to her.

"Y/n? … Y/n can you hear me?"

As she sat next to her, Gary's fingers already were on Y/n's carotid pulse point. So Sam couldn't stop himself from looking up at his brother, who was still standing where he was. In shock.

"Oh, shit!" Gary's worried voice made Sam check Y/n's pale face again but Jodie was the one to dare ask the question which was on everyone's minds.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Her pulse ... too faint." He said before turning to Dean: "Is she bleeding?"

"Bleeding?" Dean blinked and mumbled in confusion.

If it was up to Sam, he'd ask *What bleeding?* & *Why are you asking this from my brother?*

"Oh my. You still don't know. Do you?" Gary sneered.

"Know what? What's happening?" Jodie was freaking out now and Sam actually felt the same. He didn't like the way this stranger pretended like he knew her better than them. However what happened next was much more unexpected. And … rude!

To everyone's surprise, the guy reached out to Y/n's jeans and drew his hand between her legs but before anyone could react, he spread her legs open so it could be possible for everyone to see that big red stain there. Then he raised his hand. It was all wet and red in blood!

"She's having a miscarriage." He revealed.

Sam's gaze instantly caught Dean's ... Burning. Dean was burning inside with his heavy silence.

"Don't you worry. It's not mine." Gary added more fuel to that hell with such a mocking tone, staring right back at Dean's eyes.

Now Sam could feel it. The storm was there: rising in his brother's roar!

Before Sam could've moved any muscles, Gary was already pinned to the wall, Dean's hands on his now-ripped-out collar.

"Dean, no!" Sam jumped in, trying to catch his brother's arm before his fist make any contact with the guy's nose but all he could do was changing the direction of the punch which landed on Gary's shoulder, making a painful cracking sound.

"I said no … Dean, stop it." Sam had to literally cage Dean in his arms so the furious man couldn't tear Gary apart.

"Get off me, Sam. This son of a bitch has to learn his place."

"Enough!" As Dean just broke himself free, Jodie's scream stopped everyone in their tracks.

"It's enough!" Jodie warned all three men, pointing at them one by one.

"You want to fight? Not here. Not in my house!"

"But ..."

As soon as Dean opened his mouth to protest, Jodie cut him:

"And you … you should know Y/n is pregnant with your twins. So … you'll be a responsible man who will try his best to save them or you can get the hell out of here and never come back!"

"What?" Sam was too shocked to suppress his reaction while Dean couldn't even find any words to say. His confused look darted between Jodie's face and Y/n's figure while his parted lips kept moving without making any noise, just like a dying fish on the shore!

"I promised her not to tell anyone but it was a promise under normal conditions, not this." Jodie sighed, struggling to keep her emotions under control. Sam saw the worry in her frown. Like a real mother, worried for her children. However it was nothing in comparison to his brother's blank eyes and pale face.

"Dean, It's ok. We just need to take her to hospital. … it's ok, man. I promise."

He had to grab Dean by his jacket, as his brother was struggling to process all of these in his head.

"Come on, man. We got no time. Do I need to do this alone or you'll …"

"Get the car, Sammy."

It was just a simple sentence. Yet it had enough power to make Sam's heart sank. Since Dean had put the car keys in his hand saying that, Sam couldn't stop thinking about that tone. Dean never had called Baby a "car" In years. And Sam had never heard that crack in his voice since their Dad's death.

"You ok?" He finally let himself ask, two hours after they arrived at the hospital.

"I want to be." Dean closed his eyes and put his head against the cold wall, letting the dim light to darken the shadows under his eyes.

"I'm sure she'll be good. She's strong, Dean. You know that."

He smiled and Sam looked away not to watch him. He knew that smile. Dean used to give him that, whenever everything was gone so wrong that Dean couldn't promise him anything good. Like when both of them were still kids. Hungry, cold and all alone in a rusty motel room where John had left them on their own for a one day long hunt but then a heavy snow had crashed the roads and kept them apart for half a week. So Dean had to wash the dishes and do the laundry in the motel to rent the room for another day and provide some snacks so they wouldn't starve to death. But after three days, the hotel managers didn't want them to be around. And Sam could vividly remember that smile on his brother's face when he asked: *Where should we go then?*

"You were always such a father material. You know?"

Sam admitted with a broken smile on his face.

"You were always responsible, kind and caring with me as a kid. And I can't imagine anyone who deserves to be a father more than you."

Dean took a deep breath and opened his eyes without looking at him: "But I don't want ... I really can't, Sammy."

All, it certainly wasn't the response Sam had expected. He used to believe that Dean would never turn down any chance to start a family with Y/n. Especially after everything in the world was back to normal.

"Are you kidding me? You always wanted this."

"No …" Dean finally turned his gaze to meet his brother's confused eyes. "No, Sammy. Not like this. I don't want to raise another kid without his mom. I'm not that strong anymore."

Dang. Once again Sam's heart dropped in his stomach. Dean was really helpless.

"Mr. Winchester?"

Dean was on his feet as Sam just realized the doctor's presence.

"It's me."

Sam prayed for any good news as doctor took a glance of Dean and fixed his glasses on his face …

"To be continued …"

READ CHAPTER 2 HERE

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@jay-and-dean @adoptdontshoppets @akshi8278

The next and also ultimate chapter will post on Sunday, April 25. Thanks for reading.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut in horror, knowing what that meant. They couldn't save her. Cause he was still alive.

"Dean?" A much missed voice from the opposite side called.

"Open your eyes." She demanded.

"Y/n." He tried to say as soon as he saw her but it came out like a whine.

*Sorry, sweetheart.*

He wished he could say, looking up at her who seemed much more healthier. And even happy? With a new hair style? And … a flat belly?

As she was wearing a white crop top, it wasn't hard to recognise that flat belly but he couldn't stop his hand from reaching out and touching her soft skin on the back of his fingers.

"Don't worry. She's ok." Y/n smiled and it felt so genuine. So he could tell it was just a hallucination. She couldn't look like this if they could've saved her. He shut his eyes in understanding.

*I had let her down. Again.*

Just like that, everything came crashing down. And something was hurting in his chest.

"Mr Winchester!" The black med called. This time not in a calm tone. Not at all.

"Dean!" Now it was Sammy.

He wondered why everyone was trying to ruin his concentration when he was trying to deal with this sudden hyperventilation.

"Dean, calm down." But the damn dizziness wouldn't let Dean to find out where he was.

"It's ok. Just try to relax. We got you." He vaguely saw the black man again, trying to put an oxygen mask on his mouth. As he did, once again Dean drifted off.

"… who knows? He seemed totally alright before that." This time he woke up like a normal human being, because of an annoying voice which belonged to a definitely too-talkative person for him to handle.

"You're awake, son?" A new voice drew his attention and he opened his eyes.

At least his vision were perfectly fine. He noticed it as he took his surrounding.

He was still on a hospital bed, naked under an oversize gown with an oxygen mask on. While the black medic was still standing next to his bed, this time busy doing something with his IV.

And on the other side of his bed, an old white man with a goatee beard was standing. Judging by his white coat and that stethoscope hanging around his neck, Dean could tell he was a doctor.

*Yeah, there is a tag name too* He reminded himself, narrowing his eyes to read the small words.

"I'm doctor Jo Lister. And this is Chris Warren. Our intense care unit expert." The man introduced as soon as he noticed Dean's curios look.

"Hey, Sir. You better?" Chris asked, but his eyes were focused on the shot he was preparing to inject into his IV.

"I assume you can guess where you are now. Right?" The doctor asked.

*I wish I didn't*

But as he couldn't say anything with that sore and utterly dry throat, he just blinked "Yes".

"Good. Just to be clear it's a "down unit" right next to ICU. Meaning we got anything you need and we can help whenever you're in need. I don't want you to be worried about anything. Ok?"

*What about Y/n?* he sighed, once again nodding yes. Essentially there was nothing left for him to fight for but who cared?

"Ok, now. I'm gonna listen to your heart and lungs till Chris is done with some drug injection to your system. And then we'll see if you're ready or not?"

*Ready for what?* Again he would ask and again he could just nod. They stripped his upper body down which should be easy as he was in one piece single layer hospital gown but even that simple task had him breathless.

*What the fuck?*

"Ok, son. Now I need you to take some deep breaths. Don't rush it." Doc said as he started to listen to his heart, putting his stethoscope on his chest.

Feeling a little light headed, Dean kept breathing the way Dr. Lister demanded.

"Sounds good for now." Eventually the doc said, nodding in approvement. Then they exchanged a look with Chris that Dean couldn't get its meaning.

"Son ..." The old man took a deep breath as he hung his stethoscope around his neck again. " … even if I'm not sure you can handle this conversation now, but I have to insist. We don't need you to freak out. Last time when everything seemed back to normal, you almost got yourself killed by the way you panicked and you put your poor organs in agony when they'd just started to work perfectly … we don't need that to happen again. We don't need any other panic. Ok?"

*Why would I? Why should I even care?* Another understanding nod from him and another suspicious look was exchanged between them.

"Look. When they brought you here you had this serious injury in your chest and you'd already lost so much blood, developing a shock which finally caused a cardiac arrest. Luckily somehow we managed to get you back. But unfortunately we couldn't stop you from falling into a coma."

"WHAT?!!" This time Dean tried his best to utter that word but instead he started to cough as his air way was suddenly cut by the instant reaction.

"I told you not to panic!" The doctor said, putting his hand on Dean's mask, preventing him from tearing it away. "Hurry Chris, help him to sit up." He commended as the coughs got worse.

"Here man. Let me help." With Chris's support, he finally managed to sit up. Now taking deep breaths into the mask. Like he had run a marathon!

"You're good?" The black man asked, seconds after his breaths became normal. Dean nodded in a "yes". And before the med could withdraw, he took off the pen out of Chris's chest pocket.

"You need anything?" The doctor asked as Dean slowely wrote something in his palm.

*How could holding a pen be this exhausting?* He thought, raising his palm so they both could see the word.

"Water"

Doctor tilted his head, giving Chris (who was staring at him in question) a reassuring nod: "Of course."

Dean coughed one more time, writing down another thing as Chris went to bring some water.

"What else?" The old man asked, curious about his patient's needs when it took him a little more to write. When Dean was done, it was supposed to be "How long I was in coma?" But it looked more like he'd scrawled some meaningless lines in his palm.

Doctor sighed, running a hand down his beard. Already guessing Dean's questions: "You've been in coma for nearly five months. It's normal that your motor skills won't work the way they used to be. You also may experience some memory loss or confusion or even hallucinations. But as much as I can tell by your MRI results, none of them is permanent. Hopefully you just have to let your brain and muscles get used to normal life again."

*5 months?* The words kept repeating in his mind, like a bad scene of a bad movie.

*I was out for 5 months and now I can't even walk? Or write? Or even talk? Where is Sam by the way? What about Cas? What the fuck they've done to bring me back?*

He had at least one hundred questions while a million thoughts were running crazy in his head.

Two days passed. And Dr. Lister was finally convinced that Dean could manage without having to take heavy medicine under intense medical care. Dean was feeling much better too. However it was only physically. Even if he still had to drink water with a stupid straw (because of having a sore throat as an after effect of using NG tube during his coma) now at least he could talk. Plus he had heard from Chris that Sam and Cas were constantly trying to meet him but Lister had told them to be patient till they transfer him to the general ward. So Dean knew they were fine and that made him feel a bit less guiltier. However it couldn't change the fact that Y/n was gone and he had lost his whole new family , including his kids.

"Is it ok now?"

Looking up at Chris's bright smile, who already had a wheelchair ready for him, Dean curled his lips in a fake smile. What could he say? That he hated that wheelchair and this room and everything about this hospital and his life in general?

*Nope* He knew he couldn't so at least he thanked Chris for not making him use a stretcher as they were transferring him to the general ward.

"You're welcome. Let's take you to your family. They're super excited."

Well, they were. Sam, Cas, Jodie and Clair. Apparently there were some more people who wanted to be there too but because of hospital rules he couldn't have more visitors. But it didn't seem like he cared. He was already heartbroken. Cause except what his rational self was insisting, he still got this little hope in his heart about her … about that memory of Y/n standing right next to his bed, in a crop top and a new hair style. But now he was sure this image couldn't be anything more than a hallucination. Specially after Sam and Cas never mentioned her in front of him. Probably to avoid any harm to his feelings.

"Next time, don't finish your meal and watch how I kick your ass!" Jodie challenged him, holding the full spoon in the air in front of his lips.

Dean gave her a smile. Well, at least something like that.

"You heard me, Dean Winchester?"

"I can … eat my food … by myself." He replied, with his still hoarse voice.

Jodie rolled her eyes at him:

"I know. But for now you're slow. So it takes longer for you to finish it, causing the food to get cold and you to drop it."

"Sorry." Another fake smile and her heart cracked in her chest. Dean looked miserable with that untrimmed beard and his wild long hair. (Cause what kind of ICU would offer hair dressing to its patients?) He also had lost so much weight. Dull eyes looked a bit larger in his lean face while his lips were faded against his extra pale skin. Jodie had never seen him like that.

"Don't forget to drink your water." She warned in a serious tone, and then ran away from that heart breaking sight. Dean didn't need to see her tears.

"Jodie?" Sam called her from behind, right as she managed to wipe her tears in the corridor before anyone could notice.

"Yes, Sam?" She turned around to greet him with a fake smile. Apparently Dean's mood was contagious.

"Jodie, I need your help." With that obvious frown on his face, Sam seemed nervous. So she couldn't help her question:

"With what?"

"Look." Sam put his phone in her hands, with a text under a photo on the screen.

"No." She shook her head in disagreement. "No, Sam. This is not a good idea. I don't think he can handle that right now."

"I know." His sad look stared down at the phone. "I know Jodie. I told that to Charlie too but she said she can't do anything about it. As you see she's already on her plan. If I believed this works with Dean, I would help them but you have seen him. He's totally off. And already lost. Plus Lister told me we shouldn't rush or push anything. He needs time to catch a grip and … honestly Jodie, I can't risk anything about him anymore. We just got him back."

Sam could be the second most badass professional hunter on the planet, but sometimes he turned to a giant teddy bear with a pair of puppy eyes too.

Jodie sighed, wondering if Winchesters ever got to live a normal life? At least for a few days? To her it seemed impossible.

"I understand. Don't worry. I'll deal with this. You just go and take care of your brother. Okay?"

Sam tried a smile: "Thanks Jodie." There was a hint of Dean in that sad look.

"No problem." She said, patting him on the face, making him feel the motherly love she always carried for them in her heart. In return, Sam wrapped his long arms around her in a needed hug.

When Chris entered the room, Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, long legs impatiently dangling in the air while he had his own regular clothes back on. Which now looked much more loosened on his skinny figure.

Chris pushed the wheelchair (that he was carrying) forward, as he noticed Cas was standing motionless in a corner of the room and then saw Sam, squatting down in front of Dean, busy with his brother's boots.

"So everyone is ready to leave?" He asked, getting everyone's attention.

"What's that for?" Dean groaned, staring down at the wheelchair.

"Hospital protocols." Chris briefly replied, a smile on his lips. "Or in your language: house rules." Cas smirked, exchanging a look with Chris. That's when Dean noticed that shinning blue light in Chris's orbs.

"He's an angel?!" He asked Cas, looking totally annoyed.

His angel shrugged: "Of course he is."

"What? …"

"You didn't really expect us to leave your ass alone where any supernatural being could get in and finish your life in a heartbeat , Did you?" Sam cut him, looking up with his raised brows.

Dean blew his exhale to calm his nerves, shaking his head like he knew better.

"So what did you gave up to heaven to bring me back?"

"Nothing." Cas stated with such an incisive tone. "My brother here accepted to do that because he wanted to help us …"

"Yes, I did it to make up the wrong things I had done in the past. I realized Castiel was always right about heaven and God." Chris finished Cas's sentence. And Cas gave him a pat on his shoulder.

Dean narrowed his eyes at them.

"You really think that I'm gonna believe that?"

"Why not? Dean, you told us not to do anything stupid to bring you back. So we didn't. Now are you gonna be pissed just because we did as your wish?"

*No, I'm bothered by the things that you didn't do. Like saving Y/n!* he would say but he fell silent. It was useless. Nothing could bring her back anymore. She was gone.

As he was lost in his thoughts, Sam helped him to put his boots on.

"I can get him a pair of sleepers too if you need. I think they can be more comfy." Chris suggested as Dean seemed upset by Sam helping him to put his boots on, but Dean gave him a hard glare.

"It's ok. We're already done." Sam said, standing up. He squeezed Dean's knee before Chris could take his place.

"Ok sir. Now as our hospital's discharge process I want to talk about your next treatment step which includes some medicine, a constant physical therapy and …"

As Chris was talking, Cas whispered to Sam . "You know? I could teleport him home. It could be much less complicated."

"I know, Cas. But I thought I take him for a ride with Baby. Maybe that can bust his mood."

"It's a good idea, Sam. I hope it works."

But it didn't. At least not as much as Sam or Cas hoped.

When they arrived home, Dean seemed tired even if Sam cut the ride short and didn't force him to listen to his used-to-be favorite music against his desire. It was like he had no interest in anything that he used to love.

"Here we are. Welcome home, Jerk." Sam said playfully as he stopped the car in front of their beloved bunker.

Dean curved his lips in a so-called smile.

"Thank you." And he slightly turned in his seat to give Cas (Who was on the back seat) "Thank both of you … for everything."

In return, Cas gave him a genuine warm smile.

"Dean, there's no need for that. We are happy that you're back." But Sam couldn't even fake one. Cause Dean's reaction was actually freaking him out. If Dean was the normal Dean, he would say something like: "I know, bitch!" But now it seemed like a dream.

As Sam was occupied in his head, Cas decided to help Dean downstairs. After all a short teleport like this couldn't hurt anyone.

But as soon as they appeared in Dean's room, he clutched at his trench coat.

"Cass…" He groaned, feeling like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. She was there again. In front of his eyes. So vivid and so alive that if he wanted to ignore her, he knew he'll fail.

Still he tried, blinking several times, rubbing his eyes … but nothing could stop the nullification.

Y/n was there. Standing in front of his desk with that exact new hairstyle and in a totally unfamiliar clothes: A pretty middle-thigh sun dress and a pair of white sneakers. The worse part was her eyes, already wet like she was waiting to meet him again for days!

*God damn hell! Why did I survive* He angrily thought to himself but Just as he opened his mouth to tell Cas that he was hallucinating, both of them spoke:

"Hello Y/n."

"Dee?!"

She took a step toward him but Cas shook his head in a "No."

*What the hell? Could he also see her?*

"You see her?" He couldn't help his question. Cas looked at him like he was considering if Dean had lost his mind or not. But when he came to a conclusion, he decided to reply: "Of course, Dean. Why wouldn't I?"

"I mean … she's really here? I'm not hallucinating?" He finally managed to ask, gulping in excitement.

*WHAT KIND OF QUESTION WAS THAT?*

"Yes, she is. And no, you're not."

"Holy shit!" As the room started spinning, he had to clutch at Cas's free arm, to prevent himself from falling.

"Dean!" She almost screamed but the vertigo was too bad that he couldn't concentrate on anything else but keeping his own balance.

"It's ok. The bed is right here. Let me help you sit." Cas reassured him.

"I'm bringing some water." Y/n's voice rang in his ears.

*No, stay!*

He would beg but nothing came out of his chest but a deep groan.

"It's ok, Dean. I got you." Cas rubbed softly on the root of his neck. And he had to take some deep breath to manage the hyperventilation and his excitement. He had so much to talk about with her. He had a million questions too.

*Where were You, Y/n? Why you didn't come to see me by now? Why it took you so long to show up? Why they didn't tell me about you? Was it your plan to surprise me? What have I missed all these days? What happened to our baby? Are you ok, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you when I was out?*

"Here, Dean. Let me help you." Her soft voice made him feel comfortable again. Like he was really home now. So when she put one of her hands on the back of his head to bring the waterglass against his lips, he just quit fighting and closed his eyes. To let the cool water pour in his throat and wash over all his distress for their seperation. Cause he didn't need or want anyone's care but her.

"Keep going, babe. Finish the whole glass." Y/n encouraged softly, watching her lover's eager and thirsty lips fighting to get more liquid in his system as she sat next to him.

"Oh, God." She moaned when he was done, hiding her head in the crook of his neck. And that was the moment a clinking sound drew his attention as he opened his eyes.

She was wearing a wedding ring!

Dean almost chocked on his own tongue.

*So that's the reason? That's why she never tried to come and see me in the hospital? Cause she's married?*

"You have no idea how much I missed you." She confessed, nuzzling her nose on his skin.

*Who could it be? That bartender freak? What was his name? Gordon? Gabe? Gil? ...*

"I almost believed that I can't see you again." She whimpered and put the empty glass aside, making that damn clinking sound again.

*And that's the reason, sweetheart? That's why you decided to forget about me? Because you got married? Do you have a happy life now? A life that you always wanted and I never could provide for you?*

She was happy. She should be. Why not? Dean had never seen her with a smile as big as that before or in such a girlish style, the way most of the girls like: soft, sunny and happy. She never looked like that around him. Did she?

"I love you, Dee."

*But you used to be all happy and smiley around him? Right?*

It was such an honest confession that it nearly broke his heart. Nearly … because he had no heart anymore. That beautiful living gift full of desire and motivation was dead for him. Now there was nothing left in his chest but a stupid pumping machine.

He shut his eyes when her lips found his jaw to kiss, one hand tangled in his long hair, the other was on his chest but all he could feel was the coldness of the metal ring against his heart, even beneath all those layers. Cause she was not his. Not anymore. Now she belonged to …

*Gary. That's his name. Right?*

Dean didn't move. He was torn between the need to push her away and the desire to pull her even closer. But the fight between what his mind was saying and what the heart wanted , left his body motionless and stiff, in alert.

"Dean?" Finally the woman sensed it. He not only didn't look the same, but also his behaviour was different too. It seemed like he was afraid of her!

"Dean, what's wrong?" She asked. Her head snapped up to look at his eyes but … he stole his look.

"Look at me, baby. What happened?" She tried, holding his neck with her both hands, brushing his beardy cheeks on her thumbs.

Dean gulped, trembling with his silent war against that huge rush of emotions.

"Dean, it's me! Look at me, baby. Please." But even the vibration in her voice couldn't fight the reality.

*I can't sweetheart. I do no good to you. Never did. Never can. Let alone when you're married.*

"Y/n! What are you doing here?" Sam appeared from no where, eyes wide by surprise.

"Sam …" She turned around to look at him, tears already casting down on her face like a river.

"I've told you, Y/n. I've told you to not do this. Right?" Sam shook his head like he was sorry and sad, just as much as her.

"Sam …" As soon as Cas (Who was waiting all this time in a corner to give them some private space) opened his mouth to say anything, in a sudden reaction Y/n stormed out of the room. Her sobbing voice resonated in the cold bunker.

Sam exhaled loudly and rubbed his eyes. Then he tilted his head to Cas so he could be alone with his brother.

"Dean …" As soon as he started to say, Dean shook his head violently.

"I had enough, Sammy. I don't wanna talk about it."

Sam bit on his lower lip, nodding in understanding as Dean turned around to hide his wet eyes from him.

Y/n was sitting on a bench in a middle of a park when Cas found her. She was all alone while she was staring at some kids play ground that were all empty and quit in that hour of the day.

Cas silently sat beside her, looking at her hands on her lap. She was nervously playing with her ring.

"Why are you here, Y/n? Everyone is looking for you." Cas asked in his soft calm voice.

She shook her head, fighting a good fight with her burning tears. Cas gave her a while to get herself together but as time passed, she was getting red on the tip of her ears and also her nose.

Cas took her delicate fingers in his hand, making her eventually look at him.

"I just don't know where should I go. Dean used to be my home. But now … I feel homeless." Her voice broke in her last words and the tears wet her cheeks.

Cas squeezed her fingers

sympathetically.

"You should believe that he's still the same."

"How?" She almost cry in reply. "You were there, Cas. He got afraid of me, looking at me like I'm no one but just a random stranger. Like he never had seen me in his whole life. You were there, right? You saw him with your eyes … he really doesn't remember me." This time she broke in sobs and Cas had to hug her to comfort.

"Yes, maybe for now he can't remember you. But that doesn't mean he'll never do that in the future either." Cas was always honest. Even when things were too hurtful to take, he would never sugarcoat them. Y/n had figured it out a long time ago. It was like it was in his nature. So when he said that, it somehow made her feel a little better. However there is still a possibility of his opinion being totally wrong.

"But you can't tell that for sure. What if it's permanent? What if he'll never remember me?" She questioned, clutching at the angel's shoulder to slightly back off and see his face in wonder and concern.

"Well, you heard Sam. His doctor doesn't think the same." His sincere and hopeful smile, did even a better job. She sighed and hugged him back.

"I just feel so lost without him." She confessed, not knowing why she suddenly felt like she would share her emotions. Maybe she couldn't handle this weight in her heart all alone.

"I know. That's why you shouldn't give up, Y/n."

She tried to smile, wiping her tears.

"Now can we go to Jodie's? She and Charlie, Alex and Claire … and Sam. Everyone is so worried about You.

She nodded again, this time looking a little sadder.

"I don't even know how I came here. I was so devastated. I even forgot to feed Sandra."

"Y/n …"

"I just want to come back home." Cas tightened his arms around her, wishing he could tell her that she will be back soon but as Y/n silently was crying in his embrace, he thought about the fact that no one knew when Dean could remember everything.

Two weeks later:

Sam dried his sweaty neck his towel , getting into the kitchen in his sport tank top and shorts. Catching a look of his brother who was sitting at table only in his dead guy robe and his hotdog pants. It made Sam smile. It was nice to see his brother alive and comfortable and also back with his classic short hair style and clean shaved face.

"Good morning." He said, an obvious alacrity in his voice.

"Good morning." Dean replied in a low voice, eyes staring down at his coffee mug. He looked ... off.

Sam sighed, opening the fridge door to grab the orange juice jar.

"You want some?" He asked, having an eye on his brother.

"No, thank you."

"What about this?" Sam asked playfully, putting a big portion of cherry pie on the table, in front of his brother.

"You're welcome and I agree with you. That's truly awesome. You should give it a try." Sam tried to move on. Dean already had enough issues to handle. It wasn't right to push further on him.

Dean's gaze caught the sight of the desert. "That's so cool, man. Thanks." He cracked a smile but when he looked up, Sam knew it was just a cover to hide his reluctance. Dean must had lost his appetite somewhere during his coma.

"So what's your plan for today?" Asking That, Sam poured a glass of orange juice for himself.

"I don't know. Resting in bed, watching crappy day time TV, going to hospital for physical therapy. Same old shit as the last two weeks."

Well, at least his grumpy face was the same. However this time Sam didn't protest. He already knew it had no effect on his brother's opinion so he decided to keep his mouth shut, maybe Dean would eat more before he fell into another Coma!

But somehow late in the afternoon he did! They were just back from the physical therapy at the hospital which unlike the previous days Dean didn't complain about. He was somehow quiet the whole day and that was freaking Sam out. But he managed to put his concern under control till a couple of minutes after, when he was done with helping out Dean with showering. Then he went to make some coffee in the kitchen but when he came back, he found Dean on the floor, near his bed.

"Dean!" He shouted, raising his brother in his arms. Unlike what he expected Dean was not completely out. Actually he was mumbling unclear words, burning in fever.

"How is he doing? What's wrong?"

27 minutes later, in Dean's room, Sam lost his patience. Locking his arms on his chest, his look shifted between Dr. Lister and Cas. One all busy with examining Dean, the other standing patiently in the end of Dean's bed.

"Sam, calm down. Let him do his job." Cas suggested, his hands buried in his trench coat pockets.

Sam took a deep breath, deciding to watch his brother while the doctor was doing his thing.

Dean looked exhausted. He was laid in the bed in just his boxer as Lister said they needed to take his fever under control which seemed too high. So they put a wet washcloth against his forehead. However his cheeks were still flashed, his hair still damp from his recent shower while his eyes were half open. But it sounded like he wasn't aware of his surroundings.

"Daaad." He whined for the severalth times in his fever dream, making Sam feel nervous by whatever the nightmare he was stuck in.

"It's ok, son. I'll be done in a minute." Lister tried to calm him, then he slightly raised Dean's arm off the bed, trying to take his wriste pulse, while he put the stethoscope on his chest with the other one, listening carefully to his heart with a frown on his face.

Dean shivered, groaning.

"I'm … sssorry."

"Sam" Cas said as he saw him run down a hand on his face. But before he could continue, Lister took off his steth and stood up.

Someone took a shaky breath and Cas found out that was Sam couldn't stand watching his brother like this. For him It was already traumatizing to know that John was back in Dean's dreams to put his only brother through more pain.

"I see nothing is wrong with his organs' health. Everything seems normal."

"What?" Sam's knitted his brows. "You call this normal?" He retorted in frustration, pointing at his brother. "Can't you see him? It's so obvious that something is wrong with him."

Seeing Sam's anger, Cas decided to stand closer to him even if it didn't look like Lister was impressed. He looked actually calm.

"I wish you paid more attention to what I said. I didn't say nothing is wrong with him. I said as much as I see, nothing is wrong with his health, physically." When doctor emphasized on his last word, Sam exchanged a puzzled look with Cas.

"And what does that mean?" Cas asked instead of Sam, wondering where this conversation was going.

"I mean … was he suffering from an emotional event? Did you ever notice he doesn't show any interests in things he used to like before? Did you ever catch him staring at walls for no reason? Or did you ever feel like he doesn't eat enough food?"

For a few seconds a silence fell on them when realization hit both of the men.

"What if the answers to all of those questions is yes?" Sam asked, biting on his lip.

"That means as what I expected, he's having a psychogenic fever. Which also is a good sign of a mental issue like chronic stress or depression."

In a synced reaction Sam and Cas looked at each other.

"And how exactly can we help him?"

"I'm not a psychotherapist, son. I think it would be better for him if you ask for one's help. But it's not a surprise for a patient who survived from a long time coma to face with such a complication. Most of the times it's so difficult for a patient to deal with the consequences of that incident. Some of them lose their jobs, some of them lose their memories or even their loved ones. The only thing that I can recommend … I mean beside a professional help, is to make him feel the joy of life."

The joy of life … It was such a simple phrase but a really hard one to have. What was the joy of Dean's life?

Sam thought about it even when Lister talked about how they didn't need any prescription to reduce his fever. He predicted hopefully Dean's fever would be gone till the morning on it's own. And what he needed most is to have a healthy diet and solve his mental issues.

So as soon as the doctor left, he grabbed his phone, dialing Y/n, eyes still on his brother's vulnerable figure.

"Sam?!" She picked up sooner than what he expected.

"Y/n, I think it's time. We should give it a shot."

He was not that young anymore but still he was in a rush, on the same staircase, running through the fire, hearing Mom's screams over the crackle of wild flames.

"Moooom!" He shouted, coughing when the smoke filled his lungs.

"Dean! Take your daughter outside as fast as you can. And don't look back!" John yelped, however Dean couldn't see him. He couldn't even find the way out. Everything was burning.

"What daughter?!" He shouted back, searching everywhere with his alarmed eyes to find where he should search for the kid in need. Except no one was there.

"Daaaad!" He tried in fear, feeling like he was again a four years old boy who had no idea how he should save his loved ones.

"Dad, please!"

"You have failed me, Dean. You've failed us all." John said and as soon as Dean looked up, the burning roof crashed on him. And he felt a hit, in his chest …

"Dad?" Even before he could open his eyes, he heard the pounding sound of his own heart. His mouth was dry and even when he darted his tongue out, it couldn't wet his chapped lips the way he hoped to.

*So that was a nightmare?* He took a deep breath to calm himself, wishing that his guess would be right. And right on that moment, something hit his chest again but much weaker than before. He opened his eyes.

At first it was pitch black and his eyes weren't adapted yet. But then he saw it. Just like a dream.

There was a baby in the bed!, right next to his pillow and then … he saw a woman next to them: laying on her side, face to face with him and asleep.

"Y/n?" He murmured in disbelief, rubbing on his eyes. Was it possible to fell in a dream after a horrible nightmare?

The baby voices drew his attention and he looked down in surprise. The baby was awake, in a pink onesie and a pair of strawberry socks. Moving her baby legs and hands in the air, she was staring up at him with wide open and also green eyes. Like … his?

Dean's breath hitched in his throat, watching the baby in awe. She even had some light freckles across her face and her ears … they just looked like Y/n's!

He couldn't help himself from stroking her soft cheeks carefully. To his surprise she reacted with a smile, showing her little pinky gums to him while little dimples appeared on her cheeks. There was a purity to that gaze, love and maybe even something more. He just knew it with the heart that he loved this baby in a whole different way ... and it felt natural. He was just sure if a person dared to harm her, he would defend her with his own life if need be. And that was his truth, right there, in that baby's smile.

"You're mine. Aren't you?" He asked in his deepest voice, with his softest tone.

"Goo-goo!" She coeed like a kitty, and now that his eyes were adjusted to the darkness, he could read the printed letters on her onsie: Of course I'm cute, look at my daddy

He laughed, louder than what he intended. And the ramble of it, woke Y/n up.

"Dean?!" She instantly sat on the bed, looking at him like he was just back from death!

"Are you ok?" Without any hesitation, she climbed on the bed, moving on her knees to reach out to him.

"Dean, are you ok?" She repeated, putting the back of her fingers first on his forehead and then on his cheek.

"Oh, God." When she found out that his temperature was finally back to normal, she took a breath in relief.

"Dee, you scared the hell out of me." She said before claiming his lips, in such a needy and emotional kiss that it broke his heart. This time he didn't pull himself back. Cause even if this was a dream or a hallucination or even a cheating, he needed it. He needed to feel loved.

When they finally broke the kiss, Y/n grabbed him by his bare shoulders, staring at his eyes like she wanted to talk through her owns.

"Is this … real?" Dean dared to ask, bitting on his lip to stop himself from giving it all up to the new rush of emotions.

"Tell me, Y/n." He gulped, voice trembling, tears threatening to fall. "She's my kid. Isn't she?"

He expected a yes or even a no but her reaction was strangely different: "What did you say?"

"What?" He got confused.

"What did you call me?" She looked like she could have a stroke.

"By your name? Y/n?" He asked, wondering what could be wrong with that.

"So you remember me?" She questioned with such a hope and fear that he couldn't ignore it.

"Of course I do. When have I ever forgot about you?" He was even more confused now.

"What?" She frowned in confusion too. "If not … why the last time we met, you acted like that? … Like you've never seen me in your life before?" She questioned, taking her hands back to herself.

Dean blinked, lips parted in surprise. His gaze moved down to catch a glimpse of the wedding ring that she was still wearing.

"Who knows?" He chuckled bitterly. The obvious heartache written all over his face.

"Because of this?" Y/n raised her hand in the air, putting the ring in his eyes level like he would look at that more!!

"Dean …" She called as a tear won over his will and dropped on his cheek. He turned his head to steal his gaze but Y/n grabbed his head between her hands to force his sad eyes to meet hers again.

"Dean this is the ring you ordered for me. Don't you remember?"

"What?" He whispered, blinking in disbelief.

Y/n laughed and put a hand on her mouth while a tear streamed down on her face.

"Let me …" She said before she getting off the bed and turning on the lights. Then she went and grabbed her phone, fingers busy to bring something on the screen that he probably needed to see.

"Look." She said, putting her phone in his hands. It was a photo of that ring in a small fancy box, beside a note. In his hand writing.

*Sweetheart, I don't know if I can ever make it to the day when I can be sure that I deserve to be your man. But if that day comes, I want you to know I bought this ring on our first hunt together, after you commented about that cop lady's ring being both cute and fancy and I figured out I can't lose that chance to buy you the wedding ring you liked and always deserved to wear. I don't know if I can ever propose but when I do, please say yes?*

It took just a second for him to recall that memory: Y/n in a FBI suit, looking like the alpha woman who she always was, her giggle when a cop commented about how Sammy needed a haircut, her longing gaze on the women's hand, her vivid curious whisper on his own ear: *How can a ring be fancy and cute at the same time?*

"I found it accidentally when I was cleaning your room and I thought it's a good idea to wear it as Gary wouldn't stop asking me to take me out for a date. But if you regret it, I can …"

She couldn't finish her sentence as Dean grabbed her wrist and pulled her down to his lap, catching her lips in an even more passionate kiss.

"Too late to take back your *yes*, sweetheart." He said as they parted to look at each other.

"Bad for you, Winchester cause that's never gonna happen." She said, snaking her arms around his neck. Letting his warmth and love melt down her trembling body while she was silently crying in the crook of his neck.

He leaned to take a breath in her hair, letting her scent to fill in his lungs. "Y/n … maybe this is not the right time to ask it but I can't help myself with this question … why you never came to to see me in the hospital?"

"Well …" She smiled between her tears. "… it's on your little monster here. She decided it was the right time to be born just as they told us you're awake and will be in the general ward soon."

"You're kidding!" Dean was astonished.

"Obviously not." Y/n shook her head, pulling herself back to look at their baby who was still beside Dean's pillow, making some happy baby noises.

"Is that right, princess?" Dean stretched out to pull her toward himself, lifting her with just one hand as Y/n was still sitting on his lap.

"You wanted to see daddy too?" Dean cooed, nuzzling his nose against the baby's soft skin on her temple and ear, making her smile again like a piece of pie. Y/n couldn't recall any moment her baby was ever this much amazed and excited. It was like she truly could feel her dad's presence.

"What?" Dean questioned when he noticed her longing look.

She smiled: "It really becomes you … being a dad. It's like you're born to be one."

His heartwarming laugh filled her heart with joy and hope.

"Well I did. Because you didn't even ask about us when you woke up. Were you trying to run away from your new responsibilities, daddy?" Y/n said, a hint of resentment in her voice.

"I bet mommy was waiting too long to call me that. Don't you agree, princess?" He gave his baby a bop on her little nose with his own.

"Never." Dean reassured her, turning his head to stare into her eyes directly. He was all serious now. "I just thought I've lost our only chance to save you. Hell, I still don't know how you survived without that spell. I'm …"

Y/n put her fingers on his lips, just as she felt like he was getting nervous again, probably thinking someone did something stupid to get them back.

"I was not there when they did this but I know everything about it. They collected some blood when you had a cardiac arrest at the hospital. So the spell worked." Her sad smile affected him too, knowing what exactly she was thinking of.

"But as you see, I'm perfectly fine, Y/n."

"Yeah, but what if you couldn't survive? Not to mention even now it will take you months to fully recover." She looked kind of concerned and angry now, tears back in her eyes.

"Well, I survived. And ... admit it, Y/n. It was worth it. I mean … look at us. We have a kid now. Through all the ups and downs, we finally made it to build our family. Don't you feel happy too, sweetheart?"

"I do. Always and just with you." She replied and wiped her tears, tilting her head so he could settle his mouth upon hers. She was drugged by his caress and his words, both equally intoxicating. This kiss was different from all that they had shared before: fluent, more powerful and reassuring. Like a promise or a vow. Like a sign under a marriage certificate. Cause that kind of love never dies.

14 months later:

"No Dean … Gosh. Not there!"

Trying her best to keep the cry low, Y/n hissed on the bed. After days and months of them being apart, vulnerable and busy, now she didn't want to waste any other chance. She was desperate for making love to her man.

"Why not?"

She looked down to catch a glimpse of Dean who lifted his head between her legs, giving her a proud cheeky smile. "I know you like it, Y/n." His warm breath fanned through the words over her bare skin. Still wet by his saliva.

"Can't ... so … close!" She whimpered, clutching at the sheets. Bothered and at same time blessed by the heat that he caused. Just as how the summer sunshine feels, to a sunbather on a beach.

"Don't fight it, sweetheart. I'm taking care of you." His deep voice rambled in the room, through the night; making her weaker, and crazier. Only for him.

"Come for me, Y/n. Let me feel you." He encouraged, nuzzling his nose between her folds, sniffing her scent like a lost pet who just had found his home!

Then he put his eager lips there to suck a kiss out of her clit, squeezing her thighs with his large rough hands.

"Oh, fu‌ … ah, Dean!" His name fell from her lips like a prayer. So he couldn't help his little smile when she had to close her eyes to keep herself in control.

"I know." He murmured, taking a moment to watch her melt down in the dim light.

His eyes tracked down her bare skin that was glistening with sweat on her neck, arms, breasts, belly and her tights while longs beautiful hair locks had covered her pillow. Her lips were still rosy by his kisses and also parted to help her rapid breaths. And if he paid enough attention, he could notice the obvious pulse on her neck while her chest and even her belly were rising and falling in hyperventilation. She was just …

"Gorgeous. You are gorgeous, Y/n." He admitted in a low voice, lifting himself fully on his arms to move on her body, slowly, with confident. Like a predator on his prey!

"But you are wrong if you think I would touch you anywhere else. Unless you come. Right now!" He smirked when she eventually opened her eyes. She was extremely helpless. Already surrendered.

"Dee … please!"

"Please what?" This time he laughed, little did he know the ramble of his laughter was sending another wave of pleasant electric shocks through her body. So she reached out and grabbed him through his boxer, making him laugh again.

"Not yet, Y/n. I need to watch you come without any touch. Just by thinking about me." He grabbed her wrist and pushed it out.

"Sel.fish!" She moaned in her fever, once again clutching at the sheets.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. But if you want me, you have to do as what I said." He whispered on her ear, perfectly keeping his body away to prevent any accidental touch, caging her between his big limbs.

"It can't be that hard, Y/n. Just don't fight it. Don't fight me in your head. Let him have you. Remember me inside of you. I want to kiss your neck and bite on these nipples. Come. So I can rock your whole world."

"God … oh, God!" Her eyes flattered close again. Now she could feel his words hitting her emotions and sex, rising goosebumps everywhere on her skin.

"Look at you, baby. Your legs are already shaking. Your body is burning like hell. I think if you let go, you can make everything wet on this bed. If only you knew how I've missed to taste it …"

Nope, it was too much.

"Fuck. Oh, fuck!" Her back arched uncontrollably and she almost screamed. Her toes curved and fireworks want off in her existence. Then she fell back on the bed, out of her mind, high on orgasm, shaking in ecstasy.

"That's my girl." Dean said proudly, watching her almost pouring on the bed. Feeling the never ending need to make love to her again; he found out he wants to watch this beautiful scene longer. He wanted her to enjoy more and he wanted to join her too. So he pushed himself in her and she welcomed him by squeezing her walls.

"Geez, Y/n! You're killing me." He leaned to pecked on her lips again, then kissed her nipple through another suck, vibrating her clit between his right thumb and index. Then his hips started a new pace to thrust, with her favorite rhythm.

"Dee" she weakly murmured, eyes still shut, lashes resting against her flashed skin.

"What's it, sweetheart?" He looked down to watch her slightly bigger mama breasts, bouncing softly with his thrusts. Darting his tongue out, he wet his thirsty lips.

"I love you." She breathed out, once again melting in the possession of her hero. And Dean couldn't even find the proper words to make it even. "Love" just wasn't enough. For him she was much more than that. She was his destiny and his home. The only shelter he had. The warmth in his veins. The dear light in his dark life.

"Tell me you'll always be mine." Dean demanded, grabbing one of her breasts, squeezing it between his thick fingers, riding her harder.

"Yours … always!" Y/n managed to say between the strong thrusts and Dean found her mouth again.

"Uh …" she moaned on his tongue, pounding between his thighs.

"It's ok. I got you." As he reassured, Y/n opened her legs even more, completely given up herself to her man. And Dean couldn't imagine anything hotter than this or anyone hotter than her.

"You're so damn sexy." He admitted, riding her even more, breathing in her neck, feeling her fast pulse on his lips and her seductive perfume in his nose.

"Fuck … Fuck. Fuck!" He almost crushed her body under his own when he couldn't hold his weight, releasing all his love and passion inside of her.

And just like that time and place, even the world faded away in his mind. Everything and everyone but … Her.

And she came again to welcome him.

"God damn, woman. How it can possible for you to love me this much?" He lifted his head to watch her half opened eyes.

"I love you with my everything." She made sure to stare right into his eyes, giving him the most sweet smile in the whole world.

Dean was out of any ability to say anything that could express all his endless and countless feelings for her. So he kept his mouth shut and instead he kissed her again. Still thirsty! As passionate as before.

She sighed on his lips softly. After spending a long day doing her routine mom business, and spending a night with some wild sex, it was not surprising that she needed to take some rest.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep. I'll be here with you." He murmured, peppering kisses everywhere on her face and body. Till she fell asleep, safe and sound.

*The end*

Thanks for reading.