#au!dean

[ 2 ] "Yet I bare it with a woman that hates me most out of everyone" His words slash against you alike a sharpened blade. "Must you follow me too".

A harsh breath escapes your throat, "Very preposterous for you to assume that I, would follow you- anywhere", you said bluntly, adjusting your posture to meet his inflamed ego starting to rise like a hot-air balloon.

Dean adjusts the cuff of his sleeve, re-pinning it. "I wouldn't, except for I arrived first Sweetheart", he gives you the same old smirk, yet the simple two-string pet name was new... "So what have you ran off from? I thought this was finally your year to settle down like the rest of them".

You pursed you lips, "Well if it was your last year with any prospects, perhaps you would feel the need to marry but as you enjoy other…company, of course you would not be understanding", a sigh, looking to find him taking a step backward, and bowing. "Cat have your tongue?".

He shakes his head as he raises his torso, "A suitor caught your eye yet?". A simple 'no' leaves your lips. "Well then I shall leave you, don't want to get in the way of your prospects. Though I remind you there was once a time-".

"You don't get to bring that up" it comes out like a crack of a whip, forcing his gaze to meet yours. You had given many excuses for him the past few years, let the resentment build and build until it finally settled its tide, but yet tonight when the stars dotted the sky, and what once was bright, now fell into darkness lit by candle light - you couldn't help but feel that tremendous guilt slither up your spine, to the back of your neck. It's grip always tighter than the last, digging its serrated sharp nails deep into your skin. "Please".

The adam's apple in Dean's throat bobbed slowly, his expression softening for the first time in a long while in front of you, "One day when you're ready, I'll tell you my side of our story". He continues to a lift of your brow, "She, Whistledown, left out a few major details".

You curtsy to him, "One day Mr.Winchester, perhaps, I'll take you up on your offer.".

"I'll look forward to it.". He scoffs, bowing back to you dramatically- his eyes darkened under the amber glow.

[ 3 ] The bright rays of the sun filtered through the lacy trim of your umbrella, promenading down along the flowing river beside it. Delightedly taking in the smell of the freshly bloomed flowers of spring, snapping a stem of your favorite, and quickly stashing it in your small bag tied at your waist. 'It couldn't be a crime to take just one, right?'

"So are we stealing flowers now?" A familiar feminine voice calls out to you, peaking her head over your shoulder.

"My, I haven't seen you since you married" you turn being engulfed by the newly wed into a hug, "How are you liking the Novak estate?".

Cassie grins, a warm blush gracing the apples of her cheeks "Very much. James is…kind. Very helpful around the house with the staff, he seems to never tire himself which is quite odd but he says it 'makes him very happy' to do so for them'". She leans in, covering her mouth as she whispers- "I do think the staff does get annoyed when he gets in their way with the honey harvesting however".

You straighten out from her privacy shielding hand, and dote a small smile. "Well you are the woman who married the man who's family is quite sweet even up to what their legacy is built on". You nudge her with your elbow, earning a soft giggle from her as she interlocks arms with you.

"So I heard while I was away that you are officially coming out after scandal?" Cassie leads you both forward with matured confidence. "It is such great news to hear especially since.."

"I decided it is in my best interest, yes." you nod, eyes finding Dean's frame pass both you by- noting how his first met Cassie, just to trail onto you. The smallest movement of his jaw tightening down, and a flare of his nostrils said more then any word could in that moment- and you'd be lying if you said it didn't sting.

You'd also be lying if you didn't acknowledge how much pain he'd must have felt seeing the both of you together, even if just on a normal day where you walked past each other many times before.

"Mr.Winchester" Cassie, and you curtsy as she leads you past him with haste, leaning in closer to you, and lowly stating "He should not be allowed to stare at us, let alone be let out of his home".

"I think keeping him locked up would be the worse option, beside we are past that. Are we not?" You whisper, looking back to see him far ahead speaking with his few inches taller, and younger brother Samuel before continuing forward.

Cassie sighs "We are. Though he seems to be living up to the reputation.", her arm tightens "Promise me that you will stay on this path, to marry a nice man".

You chew your cheek "I am….", starting to fiddle with the hem of your glove.

"Then it is settled". A bright grin gracing her face only made it harder for you to retain the air in your lungs. You could have married that nice man had he not been in love with her. Had she not trailed him along long enough for him to come to you, asking about her other prospects. Only to find that secret eyes had misread the situation, spreading the interaction with inaccurate gusto-Dean had got off with the usual excuses for a man, as for you-, you took your ma'ma's suggestion of taking time away in the country until it blew over. Really it was your only option. Fortunate to be able to do so, 'unfortunate for your chances in the marriage mart' your mother's voice bouncing off the walls of your mind.

[ 4 ] The next morning was filled with not the most handsome suitors, or many. It did not help after the debacle with Dean in the garden that you had grown much too tired to carry on the night. Jeremiah had used other words, infact he said 'you fell ill'. Noticing the small changes in your family's behavior and the whole house seemed very keen to lie on your behalf just to get to the end of the season. The one with a shiny ring around your finger, and perhaps less of a 'personality'. You were hoping to keep both, surly.

Your ma'ma had been lecturing you on not speaking so bluntly, taking over at many points of the conversation just to have you smile politely. Even if your ties with Dean became sour, you wished he had been there instead- imagining him sitting across from you- just like you had right before the fallout. Swearing on about how you wished you could travel farther than the country, and have a husband who took you seriously about that very fact.

You paused for a moment, recollecting the part of that memory that had been shoved to the very pits.

How you had locked away at that very moment, infact - he had taken you seriously.

"I could only wish that for you, princes- I think only a prince will do that for you" He let out a small flush of air out from his nose, smiling down at the candle light watching it dance in that dark room where you two had thrown stolen quilts around your shoulders. Both of you clearly glossing over his stutter.

You cringed as from that you snorted a laugh, just not towards his error "My family does not have a big enough dowery to even tempt one, of many of Charlottes children, or various cousins, Dean. I'd be lucky for a someone a rank higher nobility".

He paused just tilting his head at you, that now renowned smirk softer thinking back- his eyes flicking from your candle lit eyes and lips, taking a shaky breath as he reset himself. "For what it's worth, I think your mind and heart is more powerful then some damn dowery or nobility- hell even royalty… but never tell the queen". His finger poking your shoulder gently, with a large grin.

"I swear it", poking him back.

The trance was broke by your ma'ma repeating you name over again as you finally came to, the last suitor had walked out some time ago. Leaving another lonely flower on the table. "I say seven flowers are very good" she bats her eyes at you, lifting from the seat and gathering them in a bunch.

"I suppose though I am uncertain any of them are going to return, if they can not get to know ME." You sigh, shoulders dropping comfortably after holding them perfectly to the flat of your mothers hand.

Her laugh scratches at your ears, "Dear, they will…in time", she grits her teeth awkwardly "It's just the marriage part- is most important right now".

"You can not nod profusely and expect to nod along with you, you do know that" You rested you hands on your hips watching her slow it to a hault. "I'm serious, I told you if I ever do marry.-"

"Yes, I know." Visibly able to see her face soften as she grabs one hand, then the other off your hips pulling them gently in towards her. "What I've never understood is why you rejected…"

"Ma'ma, No."

Your ma'ma tangles a set of fingers through your hair, "The Eldest Winchester. Ever since, you have acted as if marriage was the last thing in your life you wanted to do, yet the way he- he came around. I thought surely something could have blossomed".

You let go of her hands, stepping back to avoid falling further into that place. "I do not have to explain to anyone the pain that I felt turning down his proposal. I do not answer to you, or pa'pa about what I choose to sooth my heart. I did the right thing" you cried, "He was- he deserved better and life took a turn for him. I can not, no, I will not be burdened to carry the weight of that on my shoulders for the rest of my life." . You bit back as the sting of tears lined your lashes, watching your mother swallow every word she could not speak allowed.

A quiet thrice knock echoes off the wooden doors to the drawing room.

"Is it a bad time?" A low drawn voice calls out needlessly pulling both your attention.

His tall body resting on the frame, and the most recognized emerald eyes within London politely smiling at both you and your mother. "Miss (L/N) and Viscountess (L/N), I was wondering if I may call on upon your daughter tomorrow for a private promenade- I know the last time we spoke was unpleasant but I hope to make up for that and keep our families names stable enough.".

Every bone in your body froze in place.

part 2

divider credits: @uzmacchiato & @strangergraphics ! Thank you for all the amazing work ya'll do <3

“I don’t care what the hell you do to me, I’m not-” You cut yourself off when a blonde woman in her thirties and sky high heels held out a cup of hot coffee. “Is that…espresso?”

“It’s a roasted blend from Guatemala, boss is big on it lately. He’s so boring and never let’s me give him anything but straight black but I like to serve all our guests something nice.” She set the cup in your hand, an artisanal drawing of a W set in the center. “It has notes of hazelnut and caramel.”

“Thank you?” you said, her eyes lighting up. “Is this…poisoned?” 

Her face fell so fast you felt awful for the way tears prickled her eyes. “Everyone always asks that. It’s just nice coffee.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, taking a sip and smiling. “It’s lovely.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning to leave the dark room you were sat in.

“It really is good coffee.” She perked up a little, nodding once. “It’s just…I couldn’t help but ask.”

You held up your chained hands, the woman giving a sad smile. “Dark Lord Winchester is really the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I have no idea why everyone that he has come in his office thinks he’s going to kill them.”

“He kills people all the time…over nothing…” you said. She laughed and your stomach dropped.

“Oh no, Lord Winchester doesn’t do that! I’ve never seen him kill a soul that didn’t deserve it. Well, maybe a few but I seriously doubt he’ll kill you! He doesn’t tend to kill women as often, just a little torture. I’m sure you’ll be fine!” You withered into your seat when she left.

At least you had good coffee before your demise.

You jumped when the door crashed open, hot coffee spilling over yourself. It dripped down your shirt and soaked into your jeans, your skin stinging when a blur passed your periphery. You swallowed thickly as a man in a black bomber jacket, dark gray t shirt and black jeans walked in front of you.  He crossed his muscular arms as he leaned back against the desk, peering down at you.

He looked like he wanted to kill you. Or fuck you. Or both.

“Hi, Dark Lord Winchester,” you squeaked out. He bent at his hips, leaning down, watching you slump down even further. “Oh fuck, just kill me now.”

“Not yet,” he hummed, straightening with a hard set jaw. He looked down his nose at you, making you feel like an ant under his mighty six foot one muscular frame. “My security caught you stealing from one of my warehouses. I’m told it was a prescription drug.”

“Yes, Lord Winchester,” you said quietly. You looked at your wet clothes, waiting for him to drag you down to his dungeon and rip you apart.

Instead a cell phone was tossed in your lap. You scrunched up your face and gazed up at him, Lord Winchester still staring you down. 

“Uh, is this my last call or something?” you asked. He breathed deeply, looking over your head. 

“Two options. Option one. I will kill you for stealing from me.”

“I’d like to hear option two,” you said quickly, Lord Winchester glaring at you.

“Option two. You work for me. I need an assistant and perhaps I’ll find you valuable enough to keep you alive long term.”

“Option two,” you said, nodding your head. He stood up straight and hummed. 

“I thought so. You’re dismissed,” he said. You glanced down at your cuffs, Lord Winchester ignoring you. He walked around behind his desk and sat, glancing at his computer. “Do not make me ask again.”

You scurried out of the chair, grasping the empty mug in one hand, cellphone in the other. 

“Y/L/N.” You froze, back to him. Fuck, he’d changed his mind. He was just toying with you. He was going to- “Get up to speed this afternoon. I expect you here to start eight am sharp.”

“Yes, Lord Winchester.” Quickly you left, pulling the door shut behind you. You let out a sigh, your overly friendly coffee bearing companion rushing around the corner with a smile. “I told you he wouldn’t kill you! Boss made me promise not to tell. I’m Donna by the way. Deputy Head of Security. I volunteered to be your new hire buddy!”

You blinked slowly at the blonde, tilting your head, her eyes drifting downward in alarm. “Oh no, you’ve burned yourself! Let’s get you out of those cuffs, to the infirmary and into a fresh change of clothes. Lord Winchester wants to go through all of your HR paperwork today and a brief tour before sending you home.”

“I uh,” you put a hand against your head, shaking it out. “Why did he give me a job and not kill me?”

“He must like you. Normally he kills people or tortures them or makes them pay him back with hefty interest. Oh!” She pulled out a thin envelope from her back pocket, handing it to you. “This is your offer letter. It’s not really an offer, more of you have to accept or you die sort of thing but he wanted to make sure you got this.”

You felt like you were in a strange dream as you tore it open, slowly walking by Donna’s side down a hallway. “So Michael is our staff doctor. He’ll check your arms-”

You nearly fell when you’d read the salary on the offer letter. Donna caught your waist, alarm written all over her face. “Oh my god. I’m calling for-”

You shoved the paper in her face, taping the bolded line. “Is this a joke? He’s paying me this much?”

Donna laughed, urging you to walk forward again. 

“Six figures? Six figures?!” you screeched, Donna shaking her head. “What-”

“Working for Lord Winchester is lucrative but…there’s an expectation of discretion. I mean, he is the Dark Lord of the land. It’s not the sort of job you want to slack off at.” 

“Wonderful.”

It was late, well into the evening, when you’d finished with your tour. You were in the lobby of Lord Winchester’s fortress, rubbing your eyes. Michael had given you a pair of scrubs to change into while your stained clothes were sent to the launder. Thankfully he’d deemed your skin only irritated from the hot coffee, not burned. Most of the day had been in HR, Donna sitting in to help guide you through your options.

Options like free healthcare. A pension. On-site housing. As his assistant, or “Personal Executive to The Dark Lord” as your title in the payroll system stated, you were expected to live in the fortress and move in this weekend. All covered and utilities paid for by the company. 

A chef that cooked all your meals, if you were so inclined. Shuttle services to and from school in town with a tutor available after school to help with homework. A grand library for kids to study in and for the adults to further their own educational studies if they chose. There was even an inter-company softball league that got quite competitive. 

Dark Lord Winchester on paper was the best fucking boss in the world.

A throat cleared behind you, making you jump and drop the stack of papers in your hands. You spun around, Dark Lord Winchester standing there.

“Sorry, sir,” you said, kneeling down, attempting to pick up the papers as quickly as possible. To your surprise, he dropped to one knee, leaning his body and grabbing a folder that had your company credit card inside. He held it out to you, deep green eyes watching you as you hesitated to take it.

“If you’re going to work for me, you can’t be scared shitless all the time.” You snatched the folder, his eyes raising briefly before he stood tall. He held out a hand, your own eyes wide. “This is where you put your hand in mine and I help you stand up.”

You swallowed, doing as told, his strong arm effortlessly pulling you up.

“Look at that. You touched me and didn’t turn to dust,” he chuckled. You only stared, Lord Winchester looking over your head. “Let me make something clear to you. I treat my employees extremely well. In return, I expect their best work and their loyalty. If you show up to work and do a good job, there is no reason to fear me.”

“How do I know I’m doing a good job?” you whispered. He looked down to you, pursing his lips.

“You’re the damn Executive Assistant to The Dark Lord. You ask a question, you do it with confidence. Ask correctly and I’ll answer.”

“How will I know I’m doing my job well?” you said, holding his gaze this time. 

“Any woman that would risk stealing from the Dark Lord, knowing very well what I do to thieves, to get medicine for their kid brother? That is the kind of woman that I know will do spectacular in this job.” 

You parted your lips, Dark Lord Winchester glancing at them before looking away. “How do you-”

“I know lots of things.” He checked the dark rolex on his wrist, frowning. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home myself. Wait on the front steps.”

You watched him go down a different hallway, your head going a million miles an hour.

What the fuck was happening?

You stepped outside and five minutes later, an older black Impala, very nicely taken care of, pulled up, Dark Lord Winchester behind the wheel. You slid in the passenger seat, a wonderful aroma in the air. He drove you home in silence save for the soft rock music playing through the speakers.

Your face burned when he drove that beautiful car through your less than glamorous neighborhood and as soon as he pulled to a stop in front of your very small rental, you were getting out. 

“Y/L/N,” he chided. You stopped halfway, Lord Winchester reaching into the backseat and pulling over the back a large white bag. “For you and your brother. Dinner and his medication for a few months. Michael will be able to refill it when it’s up and can schedule a physical with him to check if his treatment needs to alter. Please apologize to your brother from me. He’s likely frightened being alone judging by the way every light is on inside.”

You shook your head, your lip tugging up. He narrowed his eyes as your smirk grew. “What is that look for?”

“Dark Lord Winchester my ass. You’re a good person, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Nah, I’m starting to see this for what it is. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re nice deep down.”

“I’m not nice,” he growled. You took the bag from his hand, softening your smile. “Do not think I’m kind.”

“Oh, of course not,” you said, holding up the bag. You got out, closing the door behind you. But you bent down, leaning into the open window. “Thank you. He…his asthma’s been getting worse lately. This will really help us. All of it will help.”

He was quiet, looking out at the dark road. “A car will pick you up at 7:30. Movers will come by Saturday morning to pack up your things.”

“Goodnight, Lord Winchester,” you said, stepping back.

“It’s Dean,” he said, revving the engine, making your heart race. He took off, your chest still thumping when you went inside. 

“Kyle! I’m home with dinner!” You called. Kyle came rushing out of the hallway, a blanket pulled over his head. “I’m so sorry I’m late, buddy. Did you get scared?”

“No,” said the twelve year old, doing an awful job of hiding his relief. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you find out for us?” You handed him the bag, Kyle rushing back to the kitchen with it. “How was school?”

“Fine.” He said nothing more as you entered, pleasantly surprised to find a balanced dinner of chicken, vegetables and some sweet potatoes inside. “Is this take out?”

“No. I uh, got a new job today,” you said, opening the box that had his medicine inside. “Hey. Got you a refill.”

“What’s your new job?” he asked, taking a plate from you and scooting into his spot at the small two seater table.

“I uh…work for Dark Lord Winchester. We’re, uh, moving on Saturday to live at the fortress. You’ll have your own room and there’s some other kids that live there too for you to play with. He uh, actually wanted me to tell you how sorry he was for keeping me late tonight.”

“Really? Cool.” You rolled your eyes. “Does he actually wear a skull mask and a black cloak?”

“No,” you laughed. “He looks very normal. Maybe you’ll get to meet him someday.”

“Cool,” he said again, frowning when you pointed at his untouched vegetables. “Y/N-“

“Eat them or Dark Lord Winchester won’t be happy…” you chided, Kyle shrinking down into his seat, reluctantly taking a bite, a flash of surprise on his face.

“These are way better than when you make them!” He started to scarf down the brussels sprouts as you sighed.

“I’m not dead and you’re eating veggies for once. I’ll take that as a win for today.”

The Next Morning

“Good morning, Lord Winchester,” you said as you rose from your desk outside his office on the far end of the second floor, dressed in skinny jeans, a bright yellow sleeveless blouse and an oversized blazer. Dean looked you up and down, his eyebrows raising. “HR said the dress code-“

“If I wanted everyone to wear suits, I’d have everyone wear them. Your outfit is fine. You’re probably not going to wear heels with the running around you’ll do,” he said, entering his office, waving for you to follow after. His legs looked long in the dark denim that clung to his thighs. He wore a white long sleeve Henley shirt with a navy button up over top, sleeves rolled up his forearms. “If you would stop staring at me could we get started?”

Your face flushed as you sat in the chair opposite his desk, Dean sitting with a groan and greedily sucking down a cup of coffee. 

“So your job is to make my life easier,” he said, opening his laptop, frowning at it. “I get a lot of…requests from my department heads. I need you to be a buffer between me and them for the day to day. I also need you to handle pop ups and act as a sounding board for myself.”

“HR went over the expectations with me,” you said, Dean grunting as he drank more coffee again. 

“Great. I need you to start with brainstorming ideas for how to rescue my brother from Crowley. We’ll meet after lunch to discuss.”

“King of The Dark Lands Crowley?” Dean hummed. “Isn’t he…”

“A demon? Oh yeah,” he said, giving you a barely there smile. “Shouldn’t be a problem for a little thief like you.”

________

“Damn, sweetheart,” he curses under his breath. “You are rocking that conference, huh? All eyes seem to be glued to you.”

“What?” You ask as Dean seems to talk to himself. “Did you hear me? I asked if you could hand me the laser pointer.”

“What?” Just now Dean realizes you are standing right in front of him. 

“The laser pointer,” you sigh and point at the laser pointer. “You are trying to write with it. It’s mine and I need it for the last part of my presentation.”

“Oh, sorry. I thought it was my pen,” he sheepishly looks at the laser pointer in his hand. Dean huffs. He’s not himself today. Not at all. Usually, he’s controlled and can keep his shit together, even if his life is falling apart once more. Not today.

“No problem,” you fake a smile. “I know you like to grab shit that doesn’t belong to you and charm your way out of it.” You give him an icy smile. “So, enjoy the rest of the conference.”

Dean hums, and watches you walk back toward your assistant. He shakes his head. If only he could shake off the feeling that he lost something more than his best friend when he let you go. 

His heart beats out of his chest when you look his way. You drop your gaze and pucker your lips. A habit he learned to love. 

“She’s good,” the guy next to him tries to make conversation. “No wonder she got the promotion. Smart, cute, and pretty. A pity she doesn’t go out with colleagues…or anyone else. Maybe I should ask her out one day.”

“You better not,” Dean grunts. “I heard she’s got a boyfriend.” He dips his head to glare at the man. 

“Really. Crap, I’ve missed my chance. I can’t believe she found someone. Last month she was still single.”

“Well, her best friend came back into the picture and laid claim on this beautiful woman,” Dean narrows his eyes, a silent warning for your admirer. “She’s taken, buddy. You should move on to someone else.”

The conference goes on for another two hours, but you are ready to hide in your bed and sleep for hours. The adrenaline helping you through the conference and the encounter is wearing off and you are just tired and heartbroken.

“Ready to leave this place?” Dean suddenly stands behind you to look over your shoulder. “I thought we could grab a snack or have dinner tonight.”

You turn around to face the man who broke your heart years ago. 

“Do you honestly believe I want to have dinner with you? We haven’t seen each other for a year. Now we are meeting again, and you want what? Rekindle? Become my friend again? What do you want, Dean?”

He sighs. “Sweetheart, I know I hurt you back then, but can we not talk? I’ve missed my best friend. Please, give me one chance. If you don’t want to see me again, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Promised?” You size Dean up. “If I don’t like what you have to say, you will let me go and never bug me again.” 

“I cross my heart and swear it, Y/N,” Dean crosses his fingers behind his back. He finally met you again, and he’d be damned if he risks losing you again.

“So…” Dean looks at the food in front of him. “How have you been? Any pets? Men? New hobbies?”

“I’ve got two cats,” you smirk darkly. “And they are not a hypoallergenic breed. If you get too close to them you’ll die.”

“I won’t die,” he smirks and scoots a little closer to you. “Only sneeze a little. Sneezing can be damn sexy, sweetheart. You can help me blow my nose and all.” 

You chuckle and steal a fry from his plate, earning a slap to your hand. “Hey!”

“I don’t share my food,” Dean grunts. “I mean, if we were on a date, I’d share my food.” He snickers when you steal another fry. “I was joking, Y/N.” Dean hastily says when you make a face. “You really think the worst of me, huh? I didn’t change so much. I always shared my food with you.”

“I remember our last encounter vividly, Dean,” you snap at him and hate yourself for it seconds later. “Sorry, that wasn’t fair. It’s not your fault that I was in love with you back then.”

“Back then?” He quirks a brow. “You mean, that you’re over me?” Dean shifts in his seat. 

“Dean, it’s been years. Maybe I had a crush on you but—” you bite your tongue. It’s hard to think straight close to him. If you let slip that your heart still aches for him, he will break it all over again. It’s better to pretend that you don’t love him anymore.

“That wasn’t a crush,” he grabs your hand and holds it in his hands. “That was love…is love. I mean…” Dean sighs. “I don’t know how to describe it. But when I saw you today, you took my breath away.”

“Dean,” you whisper.

“No, no sweetheart. Hear me out. Back then I was a young man and a fool,” he squeezes your hand. “I know you still feel it, our connection.”

“Dean, stop.” You struggle to keep a straight face. “What’s past is past.”

“Maybe we could go somewhere else than the cafeteria to talk. Please,” Dean gives you a cracked smile. “I still know your favorite food.”

“I still know yours too,” you smirk. “Pie.” You both laugh at that. “You said something about Baby.” You dip your head. “If you offer a ride, we can have dinner together.”

“My name, Richard, is Franny. And I know exactly what I saw.” She was enraged, “You were whispering to Myrna all night, you think I didn’t notice…”

“Of course I knew that you caught on to that,” Richard said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “I was only being secretive while talking with her because I was asking her what type of ring you’d like...”

Dean knew that he was lying, Fran never has anything nice to say when it comes to Myrna, especially because–

“Really!? Really…you’re going to stand here and lie to me straight to my face? If you really knew me you’d actually listen when I tell you that she goes after every guy any of her friends are interested in! That’s why I didn’t want you talking to her!” Fran yells. Breathing heavily–her voice breaks when she says, “It makes me uncomfortable. We’re not friends. She wouldn’t know the first thing about me.”

“You’d be surprised at what she knows about you, Francine.” With every response Richard gives Franny, his self-righteousness comes out in bigger waves than the last.

“I bet she knows you exceptionally well then, considering your face was between her legs last ni–”

There was a brief pause before Dean heard quick footsteps and a thud. Then faintly heard, “Listen here you bitch.”

He was up and running before he knew it. The door to the flat was open when he reached his friend. Richard had her by the throat. Pinned up against the wall. It broke Dean’s heart to see Fran so frightened. She was pulling at Richard’s hand, unable to get a good breath in. Rage overtook Dean at the sight of what Richard was doing. No one had time to say a word before Dean ripped him off of Franny, and proceeded to do the same thing to him that he did to the woman before them. Giving him a taste of his own medicine.

Dean snarled quietly forcing Richard against the wall, “No. You listen to me, Dick. If you ever touch her again, I will kill you. If you even step foot near Fran again and I know about it–you will regret it. Get the fuck out.” With that, he throws Richard out of her flat by his throat and closes the door.

He turns to Fran, examines her throat, and asks her if she’s okay. Fran has tears that are threatening to escape her eyes but she only nods up and down. Dean knows not to ask any more questions. Instead he offers his time and his flat whenever she needs it. All she can do is nod, her throat is slowly closing up from holding in her anger, her fear. He gives her a squeeze on her shoulder and heads towards the door.

“Thank you, Dean.”

It’s the faintest he’s ever heard her voice.

He turns around and gives her a small, warm smile. “Of course.” I’d do anything for you.

—

England

23 December 1915

Thursday

Dean hasn’t seen or heard from her in almost a week and he can’t help but to worry. Richard hasn’t come by again, at least that Dean knows of. There’s been no commotion on their floor since the argument. Maybe she’s staying with family?

It’s been a quiet week at work as well. Mimi lost her grandson on the Western Front. She won’t talk about it. Won’t talk at all actually. She hasn’t been able to look Dean in the eye, which is understandable. Rena, who is happiest in the silence, finds it to be excruciating. The grief is palpable. Everyone has lost something at this point.

He walks into work in a fog. There’s been talk about a conscription being introduced too. There’s simply not enough men volunteering to keep the armies going, so they’re going to start forcing people into the war if they’re healthy. Dean fits the description, and so does his little brother.

Sammy.

Dean could not imagine losing him. Could barely stand being away from him now, but after their mother died a few years ago–John couldn’t cope with seeing Dean everyday and had kicked him out for simply resembling Mary. Sam manages to sneak away to see him every other week. He turns eighteen in six months and graduates soon after that. It’s been eating Dean alive. If he couldn’t protect him…

“You alright there, love?”

Rena had placed her hand on his shoulder and he barely felt it. He looked up at her, worry had replaced her usual scowl. This was the first time there was a maternal spark in the older woman's eyes. He nodded, giving Rena a pat on her hand that still rested on him. On a day like today, it was an unspoken rule, that if nothing was said, there would be no further questions.

The day was slow. Every minute felt like hours. Every thought blended together into an anxiety-ridden mess. What would happen next? Who would get pulled into war first, Sam or Dean? Would he have enough money saved up for Sam by the time he’s of age? What was it like on the fronts? Would he ever see Franny again if he was sent away?

Dean didn’t want to die for nothing. More importantly, he didn’t want to die with nothing.

—

England

25 December 1915

Saturday

The dress that he had been working on for Franny was almost complete. It’s been in the works for months and it’s a relief that all he had left to do was get the precise measurements for the bust, waist, and hips. He was about to put the dress in a nicely decorated box that Mimi gifted him, when there was a knock on his door.

His heart was pounding so fiercely against his ribcage, he thought they might actually break. The sudden adrenaline rush made him feel lightheaded. There was no time to conceal the garment before she walked through the door. Dean had gone still.

“Is that for one of your clients, Winchester?”

His words got stuck in his throat. There, on her neck, where Richard had choked her–were faint purple and yellow bruises. Her eyes drooped with defeat when she realized that Dean had seen the mess that was made.

If only he knew about everything else. Franny kept the thought to herself, she didn’t want anyone dying today.

“My god, Fran. I–I didn’t realize he had grabbed you that hard.”

They both walked slowly towards each other, stopping once their feet were only inches apart. Tears stained her flushed cheeks. Her under eyes, the color of the night sky. Her hair disheveled, and she tried to fix it while Dean was taking in her appearance. The insides of her palms had been scabbed over from where her nails had dung in. He had only seen this one other time, seen her like this one other time…

Has he hurt you before?

The question was clear in Dean's eyes.

Yes.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry about me. I didn’t want you to go after him. He said that he wouldn’t do it again…”

He was past the point of boiling over with anger. It wouldn’t help anything. Wouldn’t help her. So Dean did what he could to calm her down. He took her hands in his, rotated them so her palms face upward, and planted tender kisses to each indentation. All while looking into her eyes.

This is what a man is supposed to do. This is how a man is supposed to touch you. Dean was pleading with his unwavering stare.

It may have worked. Franny slowly pulled her hands free and wrapped them around Dean’s waist. She breathed him in and rubbed his back in a soft circular motion.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my darling. Lets run you a bath, yeah?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Afterwards I’ll tailor your Christmas present.” He points towards the dress hanging on the mannequin that’s in the corner of the room.

He swears he saw the light brighten in her eyes. There's more purpose in her steps towards the tub like she wanted to get it over with already.

I can’t believe he made that for me.

—

The measurements were almost perfect. The bust was a tad too big for her but it fit like a dream.

“Were you secretly taking my dresses while I showered, Dean? It’s bloody accurate, this.” Gesturing to her new piece of clothing.

“You forget, I do this for a living. I’m good at guessing people's sizes.” Dean says with a needle between his teeth, winking cheekily at her.

Only a few more needles to place, and then she was free to take the dress off. But as Dean was feeding one through, it pricked Franny’s breast.

“Ow!”

“Shit, I’m sorry. You okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know, sweetheart? What can I do–“

Franny brushed a strand of Dean’s thick blonde hair out of his face. Shock had kicked in, his face going pale at her gentleness.

“Kiss it better, like you did my hands?”

“Fuck.”

—

A/N: If I need to fix my warnings at all, please message me. Keep in mind this is an au!dean, he's a sweet boy. He still has his humor and trauma from is dad, so some things are staying the same!

Her body forced her to stop, her lungs with no air left to give, she hid behind a thick tree, needing to catch her breath. They were short and shallow, her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. She closed her eyes, sucking in as much air as she possibly could.

Her breathing came to a halt when she heard a crack in the distance. Like someone stepping on a twig.

Another snap.

Closer and closer.

She takes off again.

She was on the verge of tears, panic threatening to take over her. She sees road in the distance and a smile graces her lips. Hope flutters in her heart.

She blinks and next thing she knows, she bumping into someone. She screams, falling backwards away from the potential danger, but then realizes it’s another woman.

“Oh my god! Please! Help me!” She holds onto the stranger for dear life, “Someone’s chasing me, trying to kill me! You’ve gotta get me out of here!”

The stranger holds her and tries to calm her down, “Hold on, it’s okay, what’s your name?” she asks as she guides her to sit in the passenger seat of her car.

“M-My name....” she closes her eyes, swallows, and takes a deep breath, “My name is Gabbie.”

“Alright, Gabbie. My name is Marsha. You’re gonna be okay. We’re gonna get you to safety, okay?” She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Thank you! Thank you!” Gabbie’s heart swells in relief and she settles into the parked car on the road, while the curly haired woman climbs into the driver’s side.

Marsha looks over at the girl, sees what state she’s in, and questions her, her brows furrowing, “Can you tell me what happened?”

Gabbie let’s a few tears fall, everything suddenly overwhelming, her adrenaline running out, “I was walking home and I was pulled into an alley. I don’t remember what happened after until I woke up in what looked like a bunker. I didn’t have any shoes or anything, just this tank top and shorts.” She sniffs, picking at her shirt, not really wanting to be wearing them anymore, and turns to her rescuer, “I heard a voice on the intercoms and he told me to run!” She couldn’t help it. The tears welled in her eyes and the sobs come out uncontrollably.

Marsha reaches a hand out and rubs the girls back, “It’s okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Gabbie wipes the tears away, “No, No. I need too, you saved me.”

Again. That smile. The one that you wouldn’t notice isn’t authentic if you were too busy crying and coming down from a panic induced adrenaline high.

“I made it out and I just started running through the forest. It felt like forever, running out there.” She took a deep breath and looked forward, “He was about to catch me before I ran into you.”

The blonde smiled without a word and turned the car left, down a dirt road. She drives down it a few feet before slowing to a stop and turning off the car.

“What are we doing?” Gabbie scans the area and suddenly her heart is racing again.

“I’m glad that you got as far as you did, Gabs. I really am. No one ever really makes it that far. Lucky for you, i already planned ahead." Gabbie’s heart drops. She slowly turned to her savior. She sees a smile on her face, and this time she notices the crinkles reach her eyes. Her cold, crazed, eyes.

She rushes to open the door, pulling the handle and pushing the door, but it wouldn’t budge. The killer bursts out laughing.

“Sorry, but the game’s just getting started sweetheart.”

✤  ~  ✤  ~  ✤  ~  ✤  ~  ✤

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That boyish grin still easily sent your heart soaring after two full years together. You were sure you’d never grow immune to what that smile did to you, nor the handsome man it was attached to. Not that you wanted to grow immune. Hell, you loved him more and more every day. Even when he pulled his little tricks and broke your concentration just as you were nearly finishing up your second book in your bestselling series. 

“Sorry sunshine, but you did tell me to let you know when the movers got here with the last of it,” He chuckled as he finally deemed it safe enough to come inside your home office to sneak a small kiss from your pouting lips. The damned handsome man always thought he could get away with everything that way. And, as you felt yourself melt from the taste of him on your lips, you had to admit he really could. 

“Not by pulling me down a highway to hell again,” You said with a pout as you held your hands out for him to pull you out of your office chair and into his arms. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he placed a small placating kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll use Stairway to Heaven next time,” He chuckled, bright eyes smiling down on you as you reached up to trace his laugh lines before lifting yourself up to kiss the handsome prankster. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I ever agreed to move in with you Mr. Winchester,” You mused as you smiled against his lips before you finally untangled yourself from him and grabbed his hand instead. Pulling him towards the front of the house. You should, after all, not let your movers wait. 

“I make a mean cup of coffee, and you love my burgers,” Dean shot back, not even pretending to think it through, or even act offended, as he fell into step next to you and placed a soft peck at the back of your hand. 

“True… Though I can think of a few other reasons,” You let your voice fall to a whisper as you shot him a heated look. Rolling your tongue against your bottom lips, you gave your handsome man another quick once over as your free hand traced along his upper body down towards his belt. A look that had green eyes darkening as he grabbed for you, trying to pull you up against the hard panes of his body as you quickly evaded his grasp with a teasing wink. 

“We can’t keep the movers waiting,” You sing-songed back over your shoulder as you ran down the hallway. Ending your words with a squealed laugh as you heard Dean let out an indignant growl before chasing you down the hall of your new home. 

After your Gabe-orchestrated “meet cute” outside Castiel’s apartment, Dean had moved back to Apartment 43 temporarily, until another apartment opened up in your building six months later. And after one and a half years of being somewhat ‘neighbours’ you had finally left apartment 11A and 32B behind to move in together. Moving into a cute little house on the outskirts of Lawrence. 

It already felt like home. Even though you had only been there for a week and you didn’t even have all your furniture in place yet. None of that mattered. All you needed was each other. 

Well… Each other, and the waffle iron that was with the load the movers were delivering, since you had people coming over later. Rushing to the door, your squealed laughter caused the movers to look up from where they were unloading the boxes from the truck to see you being lifted into the air by Dean just as you opened the door. 

Smiling into the soft kiss Dean pressed against your lips, you gently tapped his arm. Making him put you down as he easily, as easy and naturally as breathing, entwined your fingers with his. Squeezing your hand gently before the two of you walked out onto your perfect picket fence lawn to greet the movers. 

---

“Are you sure it’s in this box, sunshine?” Dean had to speak up to be heard over the music filling your small kitchen as you danced back and forth preparing for the lunch you were hosting. His task had been to find your waffle iron in the multitude of boxes, but he kept getting distracted as he came up behind you to twirl you around the room to one of his favourite songs or just place soft open-mouthed kisses against your neck. 

“Never mind, I found it!” He exclaimed with a grin just as you turned to help him look. A small proud smile lighting up his face and making him look younger as you rolled your eyes at him before reaching out to pluck the waffle iron out of his hands. 

Dean however, wasn’t ready to give up his hard won treasure all that easily as he held it out of your reach with a smirk before quickly placing it on the countertop behind him and grabbing your outstretched hand. Placing a soft kiss against your fingertips, he turned those forest green eyes up towards you.

“Do I get a prize?” He murmured as his lips gently brushed up your fingers before placing another kiss against the diamond ring that was nestled securely around your left ring finger. The same ring he’d nervously gotten down on one knee to give you just a week earlier. Between moving boxes and madness the day you first moved in together. Exclaiming he couldn’t wait a second longer to ask you to marry him. 

“And what prize do you want Mr. Winchester,” You asked your fiancé as you turned your hand in his gentle grasp to trace the shape of his plump bottom lip. 

“I can think of a few things I’d like…” Raising his eyebrows at you, Dean threw you a cheeky wink as he let his free arm snake around your waist to push your body against his. His lips chased after yours as you placed your fingers more firmly against his lips. Stopping the sneaky thief from stealing another kiss, since you knew it would just be the first of many, and so much more. 

“Everyone will be here in an hour De,” You reminded him as his teeth teasingly nipped at your fingertips. Normally you would nearly always give in to your soon to be husband’s advances. After all, you could barely keep your hands off of the devastatingly handsome man. But you had one hour to get lunch ready for eight people. Including a small waffle station for Sam’s kids. 

So your own little indulgence had to wait. 

“We should just call them all and cancel,” Dean grumbled, but he still let go of you as you leaned up to place a placating kiss on his pouting lips with a small laugh. Moving quickly, you slipped fully out of his reach as you grabbed the waffle iron from behind him, before just as quickly going back to your little prep station to ready it. 

“You know we can’t do that,” You hummed softly, as Dean slid in next to you. Quickly getting to work at chopping up the strawberries, grapes, chocolate and other waffle station ingredients while you focused on the actual batter. 

It was one year, to the day, that the final verdict was passed down, and both Brian and Ketch went away for a very long time. Both of them had been sentenced for attempted murder, kidnapping and a slew of other charges. And the latest from Detective Davies was that Ketch was also facing additional new charges, which would leave him rotting in jail for a very long time. Since Charlie’s work in her new role for the Cyber Crime Unit had found proof that he’d been hindering multiple other investigations. As well as supplying classified information to some very bad people. 

So, you had decided to host a lunch in your backyard. Not just to celebrate the one year anniversary of the sentencing, but also the housewarming of your new house. And, though they didn’t know it yet, to tell Charlie, Gabe, Jess and Sam about your engagement. 

You wanted your family, the people you had gone through thick and thin with over the last two years, to be the first to know. Which was why there was no way you could cancel your lunch. And, after all… You and Dean had the rest of your lives together. 

Your man from apartment 43 had become the man you were going to marry. You were his, and he was yours. Forever. And though it took a hellish situation to break down the wall between your apartments so you could see him for who he was, you had made it through it all, stronger than ever. You’d come to know the man behind the rock music, and you’d fallen in love with him. More and more every day. 

You’d broken down all your walls, and built a home out of the scraps. Letting Dean hold your hand, you’d crossed every new bridge, together. Into a bright future, a happily ever after, that was everything you ever wanted and more. 

You were happy. You were home. And you were done running. 

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You gripped the steering wheel, a heavy exhale leaving your lips when Welcome to Lawrence sign came to view and just as quickly left it in your rearview. You came to a stop at a red light and you leaned your forehead against the steering wheel, a thunderstorm of emotions eating you up. It was fucking hard, starting new. Moving to a new city, starting a new job, a new firehouse. Station 119, your new home. Or at least that was what you were hoping. You had heard good things about it, you former captain, Captain Turner had spoken very highly of said firehouse and its team. And when he heard there was an opening, he was happy to recommend you, knowing well your situation, your need for change. It was hard, having to start over after everything, but you knew you needed this. 

“We’ll be okay, we’ll be happy here.” You sighed as you kept driving, the meowing of your furry companion getting your attention. You glanced beside you to the carrier securely strapped behind the seat belt, your cat, Ares, inside. You brushed your finger against the side of the carrier where you could see his round face. You smiled sadly and sighed as you pulled up into your new house. 

It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, it wasn’t big or fancy, but the second you walked in, you felt peaceful, like you could get used to this place. The place was empty, you were going to have to buy pretty much everything other than appliances. You didn’t bring much, all you had managed to stuff in your car were a couple of suitcases, a few boxes and a TV. You were most likely going to have to buy an air mattress until you could buy proper furniture, whenever you had days off. For now, you were dropping off your belongings and Ares. you felt bad for leaving him alone for so long at times, but he was used to it, you were sure he would enjoy having the whole house for himself. You set the carrier down and unzipped it, allowing the black ball of fur to roam and stretch his tiny legs. He sat by your feet, almost as if he was taking in his new surroundings, much like yourself. After a few minutes of wandering around the house and setting up the space for Ares in your bedroom, you pulled out your phone and exhaled heavily when you saw the time, you were supposed to head to the station soon. 

“Okay sweetie, you know the drill,” You said to Ares as you crouched down to pick him up, the black blob having followed you upstairs. He stared at you, with the only eye he had and purred when you scratched under his chin, “I’ll come feed you every day and I’ll stay for a few minutes to play. You know where your litter is, don’t make a mess.” You spoke to him like he could understand you, you sometimes thought he did. He just purred, pushing his head against your hand more. 

“Man, I wish they allowed cats in fire stations. You’re pretty badass right Ares? If dogs can be firefighters why can’t cats? Maybe I’ll make that suggestion to the chief. If I even stay long enough that is.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek, the feeling of anxiety eating you up. You sighed and shook your head, pressing a kiss to Ares' fluffy head before you set him down. “Okay, I gotta go now, please eat your food and drink water. I’ll come see you tomorrow morning.” 

You were scared, you would be lying if you tried to tell yourself that you weren’t. You knew what it was like to be the new girl, the replacement, it wasn’t always pretty. It worked out at your last firehouse, you had a family, a home. Those people were your ride or die, the people you would die for, and vice versa. But all of that was gone now, and all you had was this, this blind hope that they would accept you into their family as one of their own. But knowing they had lost one of their own not too long ago, you weren’t expecting them too. You knew you wouldn’t. 

It was busy, everybody going about their business, though you could feel a few lingering eyes on you as you made your way further into the house, duffel bag over your shoulder. Nobody payed much mind to you, until a younger boy with short pitch black hair and a grey shirt with the word candidate written on the back noticed your presence and stopped whatever he was doing to actually pay you his attention to you. He looked at you with a confused look at first as he stopped mopping the floors. 

“Hi, can I help you?”

“Yeah, I think so,” You offered him a small smile and he quickly placed the mop back in its bucket, wiped his hands on the front of his pants and stuck out a hand for you to shake as he eyed you, quickly realizing. 

“Oh, you must be the new firefighter,” He said, squinting his eyes to read your last name on the tag stitched on the front of your shirt. You smiled and nodded. 

“Wonder what gave that away,” You laughed, looking down at your new uniform, one that was slightly different than your old one, this one was black instead of navy blue. The kid smiled.

“The look in your eyes, like you’ve seen a lot of crap, but you still see the good in the world. You look like you have a dark sense of humor too. All firefighters have it.”

You stared at him, your lips half curved into a small smile. He seemed sweet, funny but awkward, you had the feeling you were really going to like this kid. 

“Anyway, you’re here to see the chief right? Oh and I’m Kevin by the way.”

You nodded, “Yes. And nice to meet you Kevin, I’m Y/N.” He nodded as he motioned you to follow him. He guided you along, occasionally asking questions as he led you up a flight of stairs. You thought it was sweet how excited he was about getting someone new around here and how the team would be just as happy. You could beg to differ, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise, though it was nice to hear that from somebody here, you were just hoping it was true. 

Kevin waved you goodbye when you both made it to the chief’s office. You thanked him before you knocked on the door. You heard a 'come in' and you cautiously opened the door, peaking your head inside. There you saw an older man, beard with white streaks and thin hair slicked back. He had a serious expression on his face when his eyes landed on you, and that did nothing to calm your nerves. You swallowed thickly and slowly walked in, hands behind your back as you stood up straight when you stood in front of his desk. He stood up as well and offered you a tight smile that made it seem like he definitely didn’t do it often. Though you loosened up a bit when he stuck his hand out to you and you shook it before he offered you to sit. “You must be Y/N, we spoke on the phone.”

You nodded as you took a seat, “Yes sir. It is nice to meet you in person, Chief.”

He chuckled lightly, “Relax kid, you can call me Bobby. Nobody ever calls me Chief, or Chief Singer, it makes me sound old.” You let out a small laugh, mostly out of relief that you didn’t have to be so uptight and formal. He gave you a nod as he typed on his keyboard, squinting at his screen for a second before he looked at you, “I do apologize for having to do that over the phone. I usually prefer to have people come in person before they get the position, but as you may know, it’s been a bit hectic here being a firefighter down after we uh.. Lost one of our own. And Rufus did speak very highly of you when he recommended you, and as an old friend, I trust his judgment.”

You gave him a look, your heart slightly sinking at the mention of one of their firefighters. You knew perfectly how it felt to lose one of your own like that, it was a void hard to fill. “Yeah, he was my old Captain, and he spoke very highly of you and your firehouse, so I was honored to have been given a chance here without having to go through the whole process of coming down here prior to the application process and all.”

“Well your record is pretty much spotless, not a single issue during your eight years as a firefighter, and based on your recommendations, you were an exemplary member, so I’m glad you decided to come all the way down here. And I’m sure the team will feel the same.” He was standing now, and he motioned a hand for you to follow him, which you did. 

“Thank you sir, I really do appreciate the opportunity.” He gave you a look as he led you down the stairs, and stopped in his tracks for a second. You smiled a little and chuckled, “Thank you, Bobby.”

“That’s more like it. Now c’mon, I’ll show you around.” 

This station was undeniably big, much bigger than your last. And it was beautiful, like it had been remodeled recently and it felt very modern and comfortable. You honestly didn’t remember the last time your old firehouse had been renovated. Your last stop had been the lockers, there being an empty one, the label freshly placed in place of the old scratched off one. But it didn’t feel right just yet, you felt like a temporary replacement, like you didn’t have a place here. At least not yet. You were hoping you would be able to write your name on that label soon enough. 

Once you had left your duffel bag in your locker, Bobby took you to the rec room where you wpukd meet your fire squad, he pretty much threw you to the wolves and left you to fend for yourself. He sent you off with a quick pat on the back before he was retreating back into his office, leaving you standing there, shaky hands clasped together in front of yourself as you stood in the center of the room. The team surrounding the pool table had fallen silent as their eyes landed on you, gaze glued to you like they were judging your mere presence. And the room was dead silent, so much you could hear your breath. 

You were off to a great start. 

You were about to speak when a brunette man with a beard and bright blue eyes approached you. “You must be the new firefighter. I’m Benny.” The thick southern accent was almost reassuring, like he was friendly. You half smiled and nodded, shaking his hand when he stuck it out for you. 

“Y/N, nice to meet you.” Your voice wasn’t as shaky as you had expected it to be. But then again you no longer felt like you were being lynched under their gazes. You looked around the room and their eyes didn’t look as harsh, they looked curious even, as if they were waiting for their introductions now that one of them had actually approached you. He wasn’t your lieutenant was he? 

“So, mean lookin’ girl by the pool table, that’s Meg, she’s one of our paramedics. Redhead is Charlie,” He pointed to the two women, Charlie smiled sweetly and waved at you, while Meg glared at Benny, but still gave you a polite nod. You tried your best not to look awkward when you waved at them. “Kid over there is Jack, him along with blondie next to him, Claire, are our newest additions. They’re the youngest ones here. Jack took his exam first then Claire, she was replaced by Kevin as probie. You met the kid yet?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yeah, sweet kid.”

Benny chuckled and nodded, “Agreed.” There was a bit of a smile there, like he was fond of Kevin, but then again, who wouldn’t be? “Then there’s— Meg, where’s Cas?” 

“Stocking the ambulance.” She answered, resuming her pool game. 

“Cas is her partner, our other paramedic. And she has the poor bastard doin’ inventory by himself. This evil woman, I wouldn’t trust her if I were you.” He grinned at Meg, who simply flipped him off in response. He laughed before turning back to you. “And Dean, he’s our Lieutenant and he’s a huge pain in the ass. But you get used to it eventually.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re pissed at him. You’re literally besties.” You heard the blond girl, who you remembered had been introduced as Claire, comment.

“The bastard drank the last bit of espresso I had left, I had to go out at five in the morning to the other side of town to get more. He should be thankful I didn’t drag his ass out of bed and made him get it himself.” Benny hissed and shook his head. You looked back and forth between them, all you could do was smile at how they interacted with each other. It reminded you of your old firehouse. “Well, if he’s not here hustling us for our money in pool, he’s probably out helping Cas stock the ambo. I can take you to meet 'em if you’d like.” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, you knew well how the chain of command worked, and being on the Lieutenant's good side was probably the smart thing to do. So introducing yourself as soon as possible was probably a good idea. You nodded at Benny, hands shoved into your pocket as you rocked back and forth on your heels. He told Meg to pause their pool game and motioned you out of the room, the lot quickly falling back into their own conversations. Benny led you to the main lot, you spotted Kevin still mopping the floors as you walked towards the ambulance. 

Two men stood by the ambulance, one with really dark hair and the same uniform Meg had inside the ambulance, his expression tired as he held a clipboard in his hands. And the other, his back was entirely to you, the muscles in his back tense and tight under his shirt as he passed boxes on to the brunette you were assuming was Cas. Which meant, this tall, tense and pissed off dirty blonde had to be Dean. 

“I’m just saying man, we don’t need another fucking firefighter getting in our way. These replacements they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing.” He had this gruff and gravelly voice, and it sounded even more so as he rambled angrily. Cas sighed, slightly rolling his eyes, “I bet he got kicked out of his last firehouse and since they’re desperate here, they hired him. Fuck, they’re really just letting anyone into this firehouse.”

“I don’t see what the problem is Dean. You don’t even know them and you already decided you don’t like them.” Cas sighed again, shaking his head. He jumped down from the ambulance and stood right in front of his friend, the very slight height difference between them becoming apparent to you. He was about to speak when his eyes found yours, not recognizing you right away, but judging by your matching uniform and Benny beside you, he knew. His expression quickly changed but before he could say anything, Dean was already talking again,

“Damn straight I don’t. I don’t need another replacement here to be a pain in my ass ‘cause they don’t know what the fuck they’re doing or because they have something to prove. Bobby is probably gonna want me to show ‘em how we do things here, they’re just gonna get in my way.” 

“I’ll be sure to stay out of your way then.”

You watched Dean jump, head flashing around to find you, arms crossed over your chest and face hard. He eyed Benny for a second, almost as if he was begging him to intervene, but Benny simply shrugged. Dean looked back at Cas, eyes narrowed with a sharp glare for allowing him to speak on. But Cas simply shook his head at him. Dean cleared his throat, face hard and jaw tight as he stepped forward, facing you now, “You were there the whole time?” 

“Oh, no, just long enough to hear that I’m already not good enough for you, Lieutenant.” Your face was blank and your lips were in a flat line. You watched his jaw twitch as he stuck his hand out for you to shake. But it was left sticking in front of you because your arms remained glued to your chest. He scowled at you for your act of clear insubordination, but then again he just insulted you without having even spoken to you yet. 

“That’s not what I said.” 

“No, you just said I was a replacement that doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing and that I have something to prove to you if I heard correctly. Did I get that right?” You raised an eyebrow at him, and the frown on his face became a snarl as he mimicked your stance, arms crossed over his chest in defiance. He stood in front of you now, towering over you as his green eyes burned into your face like he was trying to get you to back down. You didn’t. Instead you held your head up high and dead eyed him.

“And you expect me to treat you any better when you talk to your Lieutenant like that?” He scoffed, practically all up in your face. You knew what he was doing, tight and tall stance, jaw tight and eyes hard, he was trying to intimidate you. And honestly, if you weren’t so pissed by his behavior, you would’ve backed down. 

“Well, if you’re right, you won’t be my Lieutenant for long anyway,” You said through the gritted teeth, your hard expression hiding the small bit of sadness you felt knowing you already had no place here. “Although in my experience, Lieutenants who act just like you, who do the whole intimidation drill sergeant thing are just overcompensating.”

“Dick jokes, really? What are you, fourteen?” He scoffed, eyebrows raised in disbelief and he shook his head in a way you assumed was meant to be condescending. But that only made you want to take it a step further. 

“I wasn’t talking about what’s between your legs. I was talking about self-esteem and ego, that you try to intimidate everyone around you to make yourself feel better. Kind of like you have something to prove,” You used the words he had used earlier. And that only worked to piss him off even more. His face was red as it could get, and his jaw was wound up so tight you would see a vain in his neck, anger flashing in hot waves when he heard a few collective chuckles of the crew that had been around to see the whole thing go down. “But hey, your mind went there all on its own, which speaks enough on its own really.” 

“You’re off to a great start here kid,” He muttered, exhaling roughly as he walked past your shoulder, barely missing you, but stopped to shoot the few people that had gathered around sharp glares, “The fuck are you guys looking at? Do I not give you enough work to do? No? Alright, we’re doing drills in thirty so, I would finish quickly if I were you.” 

You heard them all groan, the brief amusement quickly fading and instead you felt several pairs of eyes give your dirty looks now that they had more work to do because you decided to antagonize the asshole in charge. It was a cheap move, one that would surely make them dislike you already, you knew it, and you had a feeling he knew it too. He smirked when you swallowed and you looked down at your hands to avoid the looks of your colleagues. He was about to walk, but not before he leaned down, lips near your ear so only you could hear and whispered.

“And just so you know, I can already tell you’re not good enough. I can’t wait to kick you out myself.” 

His words stung, and not because he was saying them, but because you knew what he represented around here. Those words that meant absolutely nothing to him, meant everything to you, because it meant you had no future here. His shoulder actually jutted against your own roughly as he stormed off. You closed your eyes, unconsciously rubbing your shoulder, but not because it hurt, but more as to comfort yourself. Though you did feel a hand on your opposite shoulder and when you looked up you saw Benny giving you a sympathetic look. 

“Told you he was a pain in the ass.” 

“He’s not always a pain in the ass,” Cas chimed in when he actually approached you, an equally sympathetic look on his face, but his blue eyes looked more apologetic and like he was ashamed of his friend’s behavior. “Dean he’s… He’s rough. But he’s a good man. He’s just having a hard time with all the replacements coming and going. He was… Close, with the person who’s position you’re filling, and he’s taking it the hardest.” 

“Trust me, I get it, and I’m not trying to replace your friend, but he’s not the only one who deals with loss. Doesn't mean we can treat people like shit though.” You muttered bitterly and shook your head. You knew you couldn’t compete and much less fill their friend’s place, let alone when Dean had already made up his mind about it. But you weren’t trying to replace anyone, you just wanted your own place here. Cas sighed and nodded, not knowing how else he could comfort you. 

“I know, and I’m not saying he’s right. Just… Give him time. He grows on you. And you will grow on him, he’s just in a bad mood.” He reassured, awkwardly patting your shoulder. You chuckled softly, appreciating the gesture. 

“That’s if I even last long enough.” 

“You will, I have a feeling. You aren’t like all of the other replacements we’ve had, you’re… Different. Trust me.” He reassured you, and for some reason, he sounded genuine. 

You met his eyes, they were genuine. You half smiled and nodded. You were really hoping he was right. You had the feeling you could grow to like it here, before your little standoff with Dean, you had been hoping people around here would like you because it felt right to be there, like you could make this your home, like these people could be your family. Now? Now you weren’t so sure. 

“I’m Castiel by the way. And welcome to the 119.”