#here's to

“Great.” He had said. “It’s just a vamp a few hours away in (H/T). You mentioned you grew up there, so I thought you might want to come with. It could be just the two of us, yeah? We could get back late this evening if we leave now.” You were completely ecstatic. Not only were you going to see your hometown and the people you loved, but you could spend the whole trip with Dean. “You sure you’re ready to get back in the game?” Dean smiled at you from where he stood on the other side of the Impala, watching as you took in the image of the black beauty with a large grin on your face.

When Dean had first come into your room, where the boys had tried to keep you on bedrest, you had figured he was here to tell you he and Sammy were going away without you again. But instead, he asked if you were up for a hunt. Excited, you had jumped out of your bed quickly, trying to prove that you no longer needed to be held in the bunker. “Of course I am!”

“Uh, hell yes I'm sure! I was starting to feel all cramped up in there!” You opened the passenger side, slid in, and threw your bag in the back, Dean in the driver’s seat. After being held in the bunker for two whole months due to getting injured on a past hunt and Dean refusing to let you risk getting hurt again, you had finally persuaded him to let you come along with him to a case in your hometown. It had been too long since you were there, and you couldn't wait to see all the old sights of the place you grew up. Maybe you could see some of your old friends and family. Of course, you'd have to keep most of your life on the down low, considering they didn't know about the reality of the monsters under their beds. Swallowing down your worries, you absentmindedly stroked the leather on the seat between you and Dean.

“Hey now.” he chuckled, speaking in a teasing tone. “Don't get too handsy with my Baby.”

“Sorry. It's just been too long since I've been in here with you.” You looked up at him. “Thanks for letting me come with.”

“What are you talking about? That’s your town, there's no way I’m gonna make you sit this one out! You know the best places to eat.” you laughed, causing Dean to erupt with a grin himself. “Nah, but really. I know you’d want to see your old place. You need to care about this town, right? They're your people!” His tone was teasing, but you almost felt the words were true. You did need to help them. But really, there was one reason you were going. He started the car, and instantly your nervous thoughts were relaxed and you were excited about this trip. To most people, long car trips were boring, tiring and being stuck in a car for hours to days was enough to drive them insane. But you, personally, your favorite thing to do was to hit the road with the person you were closest to. Especially when it was just the two of you.

After a few hours of driving and eating at rest stops and small-town diners along the way, the sun was high in the sky and you were laughing at Dean as he belted out the lyrics to an AC/DC song. The fact that he could make you laugh with his passion for classic rock was just another reason you loved hanging out with him. God, you loved him. “Ya know, Dee, as much as I love your taste in music, you should listen to some of my music sometime, don’t you think?”

“No way!” He laughed, teasing. “You probably listen to some trashy pop music.” You played mock offense, putting a hand to your heart.

“Dean, my taste isn't that bad! Give it a chance!’

“Well if the music you listen to is as good as your choice in diners, maybe I'll have to take your word for it.” He laughed and used one hand to pick up the burger he had ordered from the last cheap diner you’d stopped at, only to be interrupted by a ringing phone.

“Oh!” You grabbed your phone from your bag and checked the caller ID. You expected it to maybe be Sam calling from the bunker, but instead, you were shocked by an ID that you hadn’t heard from in at least a year. Your brother.

You had an… interesting family life, to say the least. You were the older sibling, just like Dean- it’s not that he knew that, though- and your brother had no idea about the hunter life. When you were younger, your mother and father were hunters, though your mother had decided to quit. Your father, though, didn’t care what his wife wanted, so he continued hunting. For the majority of your life, you grew up normal, despite without a father. To put it simply, you had what people call daddy issues. Of course, in your rebellious teen years, you decided you wanted to try hunting, and obviously, it stuck until now. But no matter what, you wanted your brother to stay ignorant to the ugly truth of the supernatural. Suddenly worried as to what he might be calling about, you knew you couldn’t ignore it. “Dean… pull over. Please pull over.” Dean looked worried for a moment but complied.

“What’s wrong?”

“Private call. I gotta get out.” You quickly answered the call, stepping out of the car and shutting the door behind you. “(B/N)?”

“Hey! (Y/N)! I haven’t heard from you in a while.” Still not able to fully understand why he was calling, you couldn’t bring yourself to respond right away.

“Well... well, why are you calling? What’s up?”

“Dad told me to call. We need some help.” You swore you could feel your heart drop to your stomach and suddenly felt like you were going to be sick. You crossed your fingers and prayed that that didn’t mean what you thought it meant.“I just started hunting with dad. He explained everything. The monsters, the hunting, if that’s what you’re wondering about. So yeah, I know everything. And there’s a vamp here. Dad’s thinking we’re gonna need your help...” You weren’t paying attention. After he said that he’d been hunting, your mind had gone blank. This can’t be happening. You struggled to wrap your mind around it. Your sweet, innocent little brother hunting? No way. How could dad pull him into this? “Hey, (Y/N). You listening? We got the vamp in those woods behind that old shack… thing. Remember that place?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I was actually heading into town. It won’t be too long before we’re there.”

“Great! Thanks (Y/N). I’m sure you’re much better at this than I am.” You quickly said your goodbyes and hung up, standing still for a few moments before finally turning back to Dean, opening the door and sitting back down. You tried your best to swallow down your worries.

“Everything alright?” His voice comforted you more than you ever thought it could as you slid down into the seat, searching for words. He studied your face for a moment. “We need to talk about anything?” Ah, there was that caretaker vibe that he always gave off. He could always tell when something is wrong, and he always seemed to know exactly what to do to help you.

“Just… if someone you really cared about was getting themselves into a dangerous situation, you’d wanna help them, right?”

“Of course.” You kept silent after that, not knowing what else to say. “Well, I don’t know what’s wrong, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t make you. If you’re too distracted to help, I can take down the vamp myself.  Alright?”

“No. I’ll be fine. It’s an easy hunt.” You took a moment to gather yourself. “I actually know where the vamp would be. So we could skip all the actual hunting and just catch it by surprise.  I’ll show you the place, but first let’s get into town, yeah?” You smiled at Dean, trying to convince him you were alright. He smiled back just as weakly, still showing his concern for your well-being. Maybe that was another place you were the same- you both tried to bury your emotions and let them out later. The rest of the trip dragged on slowly, the mood obviously dimmed, but eventually, you were pulling up in front of an old shed on the outskirts of town. You had often come here to play in the woods with your brother.

“Here?”

“Yep.” Dean looked at you with a skeptical look.

“Can I ask how you know it’ll be back there?”

“I had someone tell me. They’re also trying to hunt it.” The hesitant pause between your sentences was anything but natural, and you were sure that any sane person could see right through them- even Dean. “I trust them.” Dean nodded, immediately understanding.

“So you know this place?” Dean pried. You figured he just needed some more reasons that he should trust you. To be fair, you did answer a strange phone call and refused to give him any information about it.

“Yeah. I used to come here to play when I was young.”

“All alone?”

“Well…” Does it really matter anymore? If your brother was already going on hunts, there’s no reason for you to try and hide him anymore. Taking a breath you decided to let Dean know a part of your past you’ve never told anyone. “No, with my little brother.”

“Really?” Dean smiled, letting out a breathy laugh. “We’re more alike than I thought, huh?” He just looked at you for a moment, a soft look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you mention him before?” You could already feel tears coming, and all you wanted to do was take out your emotions on some monsters.

“It’s a long story. Let’s go.” You felt Dean’s eyes on your back as you exited the Impala, grabbing your weapons and preparing yourself for the hunt, but couldn’t do anything but ignore them.

“Alright, let’s go.”

Neither of you said anything as you approached the woods. You could practically feel the tension in the air, but you ignored it, trying to focus on more positive things. You thought back to when you used to walk here with your little brother, but that only made you even more emotional. You took a shuddering breath and willed yourself not to break down. You were only a few meters into the woods when Dean looked over to you, holding your shoulders.

“Okay, I won’t pry, but something’s obviously up. I can handle this on my own. I don’t want you to have to hunt when you’re so distracted.” You were about to say you’d be fine when a loud scream of agony caught your attention. Turning towards the sound, you both took off, all personal matters aside. Pulling out your blade, you approached the area the tortured noises had ceased, leaving an eerie silence. You were worried it was too late, and the civilian was already gone. You cast a look at Dean before he jumped past the briars and out into the clearing, straight into the view of the vamp with you on his tail. You’d done this so many times before, Sam and Dean would take care of most of the vamps, while you checked on the civilians that had been hurt. And that’s just what you did.

But this time, something was different. Yeah, Dean when after the vamp- it was kind of odd that there was only one vamp and not a whole nest- but when you went to check on the man lying on the ground, there was something oddly familiar about him.

“No…”  Your heart seemed to stop when you noticed what was so familiar about him. No matter how many years had passed, you’d always recognize this face. “(B/N)?” You grew frantic, dry sobs racking your body. “No, no, no…” You searched for a pulse, though you knew it was useless. His throat had been ripped out- there was no possible way he was still alive. You gathered him- his body- up into your arms, smoothing out his hair and trying your hardest to pick up on the scent of that God-awful cologne he’d worn since he was practically twelve. You hated it then, but now you’d do anything to smell it over the stale scent of blood and grime. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. (B/N),  I’m so sorry.” You heard Dean approaching, but you couldn’t tear yourself away. Never in a thousand years did you imagine that you’d be in this position. Your sweet, innocent little brother lying before you, throat ripped out by the vampire that he had tried to hunt.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N). You alright?” It was only then that you realized the tears streaming down your face. Dean seemed to then understand the state the man was in, and knelt next to you, laying a hand on your shoulder in condolence. “You know him.”

“He’s dead.” You let the words leave your lips softly, not wanting to believe them yourself. After a few more moments, you looked up to Dean and tried to wipe away the tears. “We need to give him a hunter’s funeral.”

“Of course.”  He squeezed your shoulder and gave you a pitying look before standing. “I’m sure I have some tarp in the trunk. Would you be okay to gather some wood? I’ll be back in a sec. Promise.” You nodded and forced yourself to your feet, moving slowly, tearing your eyes away from the scene. You worked quickly, trying to gather sticks large enough to build the pyre. You had gathered only a few before the initial pain had numbed only long enough for the anger to take over. How could Dad let this happen? Did he even know? Where is that bastard? Part of you hoped that he had met the same fate- he was the one who deserved it, after all. You grabbed your phone out of your pocket and pressed on the contact that you hadn’t called in years. Just when you thought it would go to voicemail, a voice spoke up.

“(Y/N)?”

“Dad, where are you?” You couldn’t stop your voice from dripping with venom. In fact, you didn’t want to conceal it. You wanted him to know just how mad you were.

“I’m doing fine, thanks-”

“Cut the crap. Where are you?” You heard him scoff over the phone.

“Still the same as your mother, huh?” Before you could send a snarky comment back at him, he continued. “I’m waiting for your brother in that warehouse near the old place. He’s certainly taking his damn time on the hunt. Maybe you’ll run into him. Family reunion, how about that?” You hung up, wanting to throw your phone on the ground. You took a moment to gather yourself, before shoving your phone in your pocket and turning back to your growing pile of sticks. You stopped in your tracks when you saw Dean standing a few feet behind you with the tarp in his arms.

“How much did you hear?”

“Nothing. I only saw you hang up. You looked pretty angry. Everything alright?” You only shook your head.

“Let’s just get this done. Please.” Dean nodded, sending you a half smile in understanding. Obviously, both of you had a problem with opening up to people. You took one last look at your little brother’s body before Dean began wrapping it in the tarp. You tried to keep your tears back as you build the pyre, but Dean wouldn’t let that happen, not on his watch. Once it was finished, Dean put an arm around your shoulder.

“You can cry, kiddo. I know how hard this can be. Losing a friend.” Every bit of you wanted to scream out that he was your brother, not just your friend, but you didn’t want more pity then he was already giving you. And frankly, you didn't want to explain the whole ordeal about your family life to Dean. So you held your tongue. Dean handed you the lighter, letting you decide when you were ready to let go. For more moments than you’d like to admit, you thought of not burning his body, but instead making a deal to get him back. You knew how much he would hate it, though, so you clicked on the lighter and looked away as you tossed it. The pyre lit up, and you wanted was to crumple into Dean’s arms. And that what you did. He was always there for you, and even if he didn’t know the whole truth behind the man who was burning in front of him right now, he could share your sorrow. You let your body relax into the warm feeling of Dean’s flannel-clad chest, and felt the tears start up again. You turned your face to his chest, breathing in his scent and grabbing at the fabric of his dark blue jacket. His arms found your shoulders and waist and he tucked you snuggly into his form, resting his chin on the top of your head.

“Thank you.” You stood in this intimate position for a few minutes, just holding each other, flames burning against the setting sun in the background. You never wanted to leave his arms, never wanted out of this pure sense of security and care. This was unlike him, giving hugs. Last time he hugged someone, it was literally the end of the world, so you felt special being one of the few able to unfold yourself into his arms. But eventually, it was time to head back. With his arm still around your shoulders protectively, you cleaned up and walked back to the Impala. It was only after he had settled into the driver’s seat next to you that you dug up the courage to face your past. “Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Can we stop somewhere before heading home? I need to meet with someone. Tell them about…” Dean nodded, immediately understanding. Your family would want to know.

“‘Course. Where?” You directed him to the building, relying on your childhood memories to find it. “(Y/N), if you need to talk about anything, you know you can tell me, right?” You only nodded, holding your tongue. It was too complicated to explain. Dean frowned and turned his face back to the road. Soon enough, you pulled up in front of an old warehouse. It looked exactly like how you remembered it, and it threw you years into the past just looking at it. “No way am I letting you go in there alone.”

“I’ll be fine.” Dean didn’t seem convinced. “Okay. If I’m not out in five minutes, you can come in to get me. Yeah?”

“Be safe.” He still seemed uncertain but smiled anyway. You gathered up every once of hope that that smile gave you, slipping a knife into your jacket and turning towards the entrance to the warehouse.

It wasn’t completely dark inside, but you weren’t quite sure where the light source was coming from. It smelled musty and old, but that was to be expected, it was an old building. You took careful steps into the large, empty room, holding your knife out in front of you as a precaution. “Where’s your damn brother?” You turned towards the familiar voice. Before you even saw who it was, you knew It was one of the few familiar voices that you wished you’d never have to hear again. You lowered your weapon, pushing away the urge to just end the bastard’s pathetic life. “I knew he wasn’t cut out for this life.”

“You fucking bastard. I thought I told you to keep him out of it?”

“You don’t get to boss me around, kid. I’m the parent.”

“A shitty excuse for one if you ask me. Sending your inexperienced child on a hunt that you knew he couldn’t handle alone? Pretty jackass move.” You could practically hear the venom dripping from your own words. “Do you even care where he is?”  He took his time answering the question, nodding nonchalantly.

“Sure I do.” He sounded bored and like he just wanted to get this over with. You stepped closer to him, feeling confidence swelling inside of you.

“He’s dead, you bastard. He’s dead because of you!” You practically spat in his face, and seconds later your cheek met harsh knuckles.

“He’s dead because of his own stupidity! If he can't even handle a test, then he doesn’t belong in this life at all!”

“A test?!” You were fuming, ignoring the painful bruise on your cheek, the possible black eye forming. “This was a test?”

“Why else would it be one vamp and not a whole nest? I had to test him.” The truth of your father’s part in your brother’s death settled in your foggy mind, and you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer. You threw your own punch back at him, colliding with his mouth. “You don’t even care about your own son, you dick! You never did! You gave up on your own wife and children for this!” You pulled your knife out and jumped towards him, but he overpowered you. His hand caught your wrist in a death-grip, and you felt as if he could snap it without hesitation. He twisted the knife around in your hand and ripped it out, catching your cheek in the process.

“If your mother wasn’t such a pussy, you would’ve all been taught how to survive. Then you wouldn’t be so weak! (B/N) would have survived!” His verbal attack on your brother only made you angrier.

“Fucker!” You brought your knee up and hit him between the legs, knocked his knees out from under him in the process. He was on the ground in an instant, but not without pulling you down with him. Your shoulder hit the concrete with a thud and, ignoring the pain, you climbed on top of him, knee on his chest and a pocket knife to his throat to pin him down. His hands pushed against the knife and wrapped around your throat, and for a moment you stayed locked like that, trying to find the strength to overpower him and end this, when you felt a sudden arm wrap around you from behind and pull you away. Someone else’s hand secured the knife so you couldn’t lash out. You recognized Dean’s arm in a moment and pulled against him. “Let me go!”

“(Y/N), calm down!”

“Who’s this, (Y/N)? Your fuckbuddy? You’re just like your mother!”  

“Hey!” Everyone went silence when Dean pulled a gun and aimed directly- and quite accurately- at your father’s form. “Listen here, buddy. I suggest you shut the hell up and don’t mention any of tonight to anyone. Otherwise, you’ll have me on your ass. And lemme tell you…” His voice dropped to a deadly octave. “...you don’t want that.” After your father didn’t respond, Dean wrapped an arm around your waist and turned, helping you out to the car. You kept your gaze fixated on the ground, knowing Dean was probably disappointed. You tried to ignore the swelling and stinging under your eye and the aching in your shoulder as Dean helped you into the passenger side of the Impala.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized as Dean turned the key and started hightailing away from the warehouse.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Like, super hurt?” You shook your head. Other than the cut on your cheek and the possible black eye and black and blue shoulder, you were fine. “Listen, (Y/N). I don’t like to pry, but as soon as we get a bit of distance between us and him, we’re gonna stop and fix you up, and you’re gonna tell me everything. Okay?” You sat in silence, tears streaming down your cheeks. “(Y/N), I’m not mad.” His voice softened and he spoke in a whisper. “Just worried. I’m not going to yell. Promise you'll tell me what’s wrong. Okay?”

“Okay.”

You sat in silence for only a few minutes before the scene around you changed and you were back on a highway with nighttime settling in. You drove for a few minutes in silence, feeling ashamed that Dean had to stop you from killing your own father. Not even the sound of his classic rock tapes filled the car. “There’s a rest area up ahead. We could park there, fix you up, maybe get some crappy food, and sleep in the car for the night, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Before you knew it, Dean had parked under a patch of light in the mostly vacant parking lot of the rest stop. He turned to look at you under the streetlight, but you turned your head away, not able to meet his concerned gaze. You heard him sigh, and his tired voice reached your ears.

“(Y/N), I promise I’m not mad. I just want answers. Can you give me some?”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Think it over.” Dean opened his door and went to pull something from the trunk, while your mind tried to gather up a solid explanation for him. Where could you start? With your deadbeat dad or your dead brother? Or maybe you could just read him your entire biography. “(Y/N.” Dean’s gentle tone pulled you from your mind. “Come sit back here.”

“I had a bad childhood.” Dean lets out a somber chuckle at your sudden statement as you sat next to him in the backseat.

“Welcome to the club.”

“Maybe not as bad as yours, but it was hard for me.” Dean dabbed a cloth at the cut on your cheek and nodded for you to continue. “Well, I didn’t grow up a hunter. But my dad was one. He abandoned us.”

“Another deadbeat dad, huh?” He finished cleaning up the cut and focused all his attention on you.

“I only knew him as the drunk who showed up at our house or called every now and then. I didn’t actually know him until I was twelve… or something. I don’t remember when it was. He got me into hunting by persuading me it would protect my brother from bad things. That I could protect everyone I cared about.” You swallowed harshly. I never thought my involvement would cause his death. “But I hated my dad.” You watched the pieces connect in Dean’s mind.

“Was that your dad, fighting you back there?” You nodded, and Dean’s face twisted into anger. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). No one should say those things to their own child.” You couldn’t help but notice the close proximity between the two of you. You were sitting sideways on the bench seat, knees bend and pressing into Dean’s thigh. Dean had one hand on your shoulder, where he had been holding you steady as he cleaned up your injuries. His eyes bore into yours as if telling you it’s all going to be alright. Willing that to be true, you sucked in a breath. You needed to gather up strength for your next confession.

“Remember when I got that call earlier Dean? That someone I cared about was also hunting that vamp?” He nodded, his eyes slowly become dark with realization. “And remember when I said I had a little brother? Apparently, dad got him into hunting too.” Then, he knew.

“... No… was that..?” His eyebrows furrowed together and he gazed at you with those sad green eyes. “Son of a bitch…”

“My brother. Dean, my brother is dead. Dad said it was a test hunt. He’s dead-” Your voice cracked dramatically. Since when was your throat this tight? Tears that had been building up for so long finally broke free from your eyes, and you brought a hand up to wipe them. Dean pulled your hands away gently, urging you to lie your head on his shoulder.

“(Y/N), don’t hold it in.” You willingly buried your tear-streaked face in his neck, inhaling his musky, smoky scent and clawing at his jacket hopelessly. “Sweetheart, I’m so, so sorry. I know how much it hurts to lose a brother, trust me. I’ve lost Sammy more times than I even want to count anymore.” You stopped you sniffed through your words.

“But he always came back. You could always get him back. I can’t-” You suddenly realized what you must look like, and buried your face back into Dean’s chest.

“I know… I know, kiddo.” His strong arms enveloped you, pulling you even closer. You felt his face against the top of your head and knew he was giving you a kiss.

“If I would’ve been faster, he’d still be alive. This is my fault.”

“No.” Dean’s voice switched from comforting to urging with only one word. He looked you in the eye, holding your full attention. “Don’t blame yourself, (Y/N). None of this was your fault. None of it.” He paused for a moment, thinking over what you had said to him. “Did you say that was a ‘test’? It’s your dad’s fault. I should’ve let you kill the son of a bitch. I’m sorry.” You laughed through your tears and felt Dean’s fingers trail through your hair.

“Thank you, Dee.”

“‘Course, sweetheart. I understand how it feels, and the last thing you need is to feel even more alone. You know I’ll always be here for you, right? I know it’ll take you a while to get past this if you ever do. So I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled thankfully at him, and he sent back one of his killer looks before turning and grabbing a beer out of the cooler. “You need a drink?” You smiled and gladly accepted the offer. He cracked one open for himself and tapped the end against yours in a toast. “Here’s to being more similar than we thought.”

“Here’s to shitty fathers and daddy issues.” Dean cracked a smile at your addition.

“Here’s to your brother.”

“Here’s to us, Dee.” You both smiled at that, clinking your bottles once again and taking a huge gulp. Dean watched you with a soft smile on his face, taking a small sip. He wanted to stay sober tonight. He wanted to remember this night for the rest of his life. And remember it he did. He remembered how the love of his life sat with her legs across his lap, face in his chest and arms around him, in the backseat of his Impala. How you’d drunkenly asked for cuddles before passing out in his arms, and the lights outside vanished as he lay back on the leather seat, holding you to him in an intimate yet innocent embrace at the end of the night. He remembered how he hadn’t even kissed you, yet he felt so much more satisfied than any night he could have spent sleeping with a different woman. And, even years into the future, when he stood before you, ring in his hand, he could still remember that last toast clear as day.

“Here’s to us, Dee.”

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