#maryxreader

John Winchester was your father. He tried to shield you from his life, but it was hard to protect you from this knowledge when your mother was brutally murdered by some ancient Norwegian god when you were seventeen. Ever since then, you were sucked into the hunting life. After a few years, you figured that traveling the world would do you some good. After all, there were monsters that originated in other countries, so it stood to reason that if you traveled, you could learn new techniques on how to hunt and kill different kinds of monsters.

It worked great for a few years. Until you got on the wrong side of the Brits. For months, you struggled to escape and once you did, you somehow ended up back in America where you ran into the Winchesters. Your brothers.

At first, you didn’t tell them because you didn’t want to appear weak. And as time went by, it just didn’t seem important. There were bigger fish to fry.

But dealing with the British Men of Letters now was like watching your mother die over and over again. It was painful. The only thing that helped you through it was knowing that Sam and Dean hated them as much as you did. And you thought Mary did too.

Guess you were wrong.

You completely tuned her out and all of her justification until Dean asked, “So where does that leave us?”

“Same as always. We’re family.”

Not you. You weren’t her family. So even if she did know what the Brits did to you all those years ago, it wouldn’t change her mind. Only Sam and Dean mattered to her. You were just John’s daughter. She didn’t care about you.

“Just hear me out. Please?”

“Wow. Just wow.” Dean took a few steps away, to clear his mind.

“Dean, what the British Men of Letters are doing…” You couldn’t take it anymore. Whatever she had to say, however she justified her actions, none of it mattered. If the torture her son went through wasn’t enough to stop her from hanging out with that crowd, then nothing you had to say would change anything.

“So between us and them,” Dean offered the ultimatum, bringing you back into the conversation.

“It’s not like that.”

“Yes, Mary, it is.”

After your mom died, you felt so alone. Then you found Dean and Sam and everything felt okay again. Mary coming back was a miracle. Sure, it was a rough few months at first, but eventually Sam and Dean were happier, and you were happy for them. You would give anything to have your mother back, so for them to have Mary back…

But now they were hurting so badly. You wanted to hug them and tell them that it was going to be okay, but you couldn’t. Because it wasn’t going to be okay. Their mother betrayed them. You weren’t even related to her, and you still felt sick to your stomach at what she’d done.

“And you’ve made your decision,” Dean said after she was silent. “So there’s the door.”

He left, and Sam stood up as well. Mary softly said his name, but Sam held strong. “You should go.”

Sam followed Dean out of the room, leaving you with Mary. She turned to you, but you just shook your head.

“They aren’t good people. The Brits. Sure, they have shiny gadgets and fancy plans, but they aren’t good people. I thought the scars on Sam’s feet would be enough to convince you of that.” You finally got the strength to stand up and just prayed that you could make it to your room before you broke down. Just before you took the first step, you looked back at the woman in front of you.

“I loved my mom more than life itself. I would do anything to get her back. But if she did something like you’re doing now? Well, I wouldn’t be able to forgive her. I’m glad she’s dead just so I don’t have to worry about her disappointing and betraying me like you just did to Sam and Dean.”

*****

Things were tense in the bunker. Dean was going stir-crazy and Sam kept wanting to talk and clear the air. He was trying to mediate, but Dean was too angry. Luckily they were too wrapped up in how this affected them to notice that you were barely holding on.

It was a while later before Dean knocked on your door. “Y/N, someone wants to talk to us.”

“American or British?” you asked, staring at your ceiling.

Your door creaked open and your oldest brother peeked his head in. “He brought scotch.”

“Pass.”

“C’mon Y/N/N. I don’t wanna deal with this guy alone.”

Act like you’re mad just because of what happened to Sam. Don’t overreact or they’ll get suspicious. Rolling off your bed, you reluctantly followed him. “Fine. But only because he brought alcohol.”

Dean tended to be as suspicious about people as you were, so the Ketch guy had a tough sell. As soon as he mentioned the vampire nest he was headed to, you knew that you’d lost Dean. He’d been itching for a hunt. You were tempted to sit this one out, but sending Dean off with a Brit alone went against everything that you stood for. So you grabbed your jacket and followed the men out of the bunker.

*****

This place made your skin crawl. It wasn’t the idea that just an hour before, it had been swarming with vamps. It wasn’t that the alpha vamp was in the compound, dead by the Colt. No. It wasn’t any of that.

It was that this was the British Men of Letters. It was that Mary looked so at ease, and Sam was looking pretty comfortable too. It was that Dean willingly went on a hunt with one of these monsters.

Then Dean went on to forgive Mary and you knew that things were changing. The Brits were charming your family away from you.

Ketch brought Pierce out in handcuffs, drawing everyone’s attention away from the disgustingly gooey family feel-good moment.

“Where you taking him?” Sam asked.

Ketch leveled his gaze on the four of you. “We have ways of dealing with hunters who go rogue. They aren’t pleasant.”

No one was watching you, so no one saw how you had to turn away to keep the vomit down at the memories of the exact thing he was talking about. You’d been the one in Pierce’s position and you actually felt bad for the guy. He had a horrible future in store.

“Good,” Mary said softly at the same time Sam agreed.

That’s when you knew it was over. Your mom was dead. Your dad was dead. You should have known it was too much to ask for to keep your brothers around. You were meant to go through life alone.

You wrapped your arms around your stomach and held it together as best as you could until Dean parked the Impala in front of the bunker. Then you wrenched the door open and hurried to your room, ignoring your brothers calling your name.

“Y/N, what’s going on?” Sam stopped just inside your door, watching you throw clothes into your duffle bag. “What are you doing?”

“It’s fine, Sam. I get it. They filled your head with these delusions of grandeur. The bright promise of a world without monsters. And they have fancy new ways to fight. All the weapons you can possibly dream of, Dean. It’s like your heaven. And she’s your mom. Of course you’re going to forgive her and choose her so I’m not even going give you the ultimatum. I refuse to do that to you guys.”

“Y/N what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this!” Flinging your arms out to encompass the entirety of everything, you didn’t even fight the tears streaming down your face. “I’m talking about how you can forgive her for working with them after what they did to you, Sam. I’m talking about you actually working with them!”

“It’s not an easy decision, Y/N. But if I can forgive them, don’t you think that you should—“

“It wasn’t just you, Sam!” You yelled, your voice echoing through the tiled hallways of the bunker. Your brothers took a minute to process that, but you knew that you’d gone too far. They wouldn’t stop until they got the whole story, so you wanted to be gone by the time they tried to get it out of you.

Zipping up the duffle, you slung it over your shoulder and tried to push past them, but both Winchesters formed a wall in your doorway.

“What do you mean?” Dean asked slowly.

“You two have already made up your mind. Nothing I say is gonna change it. Just know that since you’re gonna be working with them, I’m leaving. I refuse to be a part of this.”

“What did you mean that is wasn’t just Sam?” Dean’s question was more pointed and agitated this time. They weren’t about to let you leave without an explanation.

You deflated a little and took a step back, fingers gripping the strap of your bag so tightly that you started losing feeling in your hand. “They had you for a few days, Sam. I know it was horrible. The things that they did to you and what you went through… I’m not trying to minimize that. But you only had to deal with that for a few days. They had me in a specialized dungeon for months. The things I went through… I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even Pierce. So if you’re gonna get in bed with them, then I’m gone.”

“Y/N, I had no idea.” Sam took a step forward, but you quickly backed out of his reach and he halted, hurt at your rejection.

“I’m not making you choose between me or her. Mary’s your mother. I’m just mistake our dad made.”

“That’s not true,” Sam insisted, but you just shook your head.

These Winchesters were too nice for their own good. After all, if they could forgive their mother for her betrayal, then overlooking the fact that you were John’s biggest mistake would be easy for them. You weren’t a true Winchester. If you were, then the Brits would have never been able to hold you as long as they had.

“You’re not a mistake,” Dean agreed with Sam.

Your mind was already made up. “I’m leaving. She’s your mother and I’m better off alone.”

This time, Sam and Dean let you push past them.

Then Dean’s voice stopped you. “Why did they torture you?”

“They were bored,” you said simply, wincing at the memories. “And I was American. Watch your backs.”

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Season 12 Tag: @erule​ @jarpadobrien

And after a few months, you realized that you really liked her. Just as Sam and Dean were the brothers you never had, Mary was like the sister you never had.

But you did miss your boys since you started hunting with Mary, and she wasn’t ready to spend that much time with her sons quite yet.

“I think you’ve gotten taller,” you mumbled into Dean’s chest.

He just chuckled and pushed you away to punch your shoulder. “It’s only been a few weeks since you saw me last.”

“Oh,” you cooed, reaching up to pinch his cheek. “They grow up so fast.”

“Tell me about it,” Sam grabbed you around the neck and gave you a noogie. “One day they’re killing demons and the next they’re dating the King of Hell.”

“We’re not dating,” you protested, worming out of his grip. Fixing your hair as dignified as possible, you straightened your shoulders. “We’re just… involved.”

“Sleeping with the enemy,” Sam playfully scoffed.

With a raised eyebrow and taunting look, you challenged Sam. “You wanna go there? Really, Sammy? You wanna go there?”

His words did pierce your heart a little. Not because of Crowley. You wouldn’t apologize for your involvement with that hot British piece of ass. It was your involvement with the other British organization that still felt wrong. And you couldn’t tell the boys about it because you knew how they would react.

But Mary insisted on working with them, so you shelved your reservations about the British Men Of Letters for the time being.

“Oh, alright you two, let’s stop comparing notches on your belts of who’s bumped uglies with the most uglies.” Dean cut in between you and Sam with a hand outreached to get everyone’s attention. Then he nodded to the man standing by Mary. “This Wally?”

“Yeah. Wally, these are my boys, Sam and Dean. And that’s Cas walking over.”

Offering your third brother a welcoming smile, you took your usual place standing in between Sam and Dean.

“Thanks for coming, Cas. I know you’re busy.”

“Oh, not really,” the angel said mournfully.

“So, what?” Sam asked. “No luck with Lucifer’s kid?”

“No. Kelly Kline, it’s like she just disappeared.”

“Lucifer’s kid… Sleeping with the King of Hell… This is all a joke, right?” Wally shifted his weight and glanced around the group for any reassurance. But he was greeted with the hard, blank expressions of five people, and he quickly sobered. “Wait, that’s… that’s not a joke?”

“Alright ramblers,” Dean had apparently decided that he had enough of this conversation. “Let’s get rambling.”

*****

“Mom, what the hell did you get us into?” Sam asked, but you hardly heard his question. Wally was dead? This crazy hunt the Brits sent you on had just gotten a hunter—a good hunter—killed. And for what?

“Sam. Sammy!” Dean’s shout drew your attention and the three of you headed towards him.

Hand flying to your mouth to hold in your gasp, you felt sick to your stomach at the sight of Cas. Red blood mixed with morbid black cracks along his skin. It was worse than anything you’d ever seen, and you’d seen a lot of horrible injuries.

“You idiots.” Crowley’s voice snapped through the old barn. “You’re all going to die.”

Ah, yes. There was your adorable, overdramatic demon. Though, you took a second to re-evaluate your situation and decided that maybe he wasn’t too far off-base.

“Well, this day just keeps getting better,” Dean muttered.

“Crowley,” you said, alerting Mary to who had just joined the party.

“You’re him?” She glanced at you, then at her boys. In all of your late night girl-talk, Mary hadn’t warmed to the idea of you being with the King of Hell. She took after her sons in her hatred toward the demon. “King of Hell?”

“You must be Mother Winchester,” Crowley drawled. He took a few steps forward and held out his hand for a handshake. “Pleasure. I’ve heard so much.”

“Touch me and I’ll kill you.”

Not entirely surprised, Crowley drew back and looked at you for backup. “Y/N?”

You weren’t about to get into protecting him here. Not that anything you said would change anyone’s minds in the room. “Not the time, babe.”

“Babe?” Dean scoffed.

“Bite me, Dean,” you shot over your shoulder before returning your attention to the man in the suit. “What’s going on, Crowley?”

“What’s up with Feathers?”

“What are you even doing here?” Dean broke in protectively. There were way too many questions that weren’t getting answered. “How’d you find us?”

Though that was very good question indeed.

“Wait a second. The demons… they were yours.” Sam put the first piece in the puzzle and you started to fill in the rest.

“Obviously.”

“They killed my friend,” Mary spat out, and you nearly contradicted her. It was her association with the stupid Men of Letters that got you all in this situation in the first place.

“Your friend was stupid. You’re all—“ Crowley quickly cut himself off when he saw the dirty look you were throwing his way. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

*****

“Well, that’s quite a story,” Ketch said. “You did well.”

“You sent us after a damn Prince of Hell,” Mary spat out, sitting forward in her chair.

Always the charming gentleman, Ketch wasn’t even moved by her anger. “We didn’t know what he was. We just knew he had the item.”

At that tidbit of new information, your head snapped towards Mary. “The… item? You stole from him? You’re the one who stole something?”

“I didn’t mean for it to turn out like it did,” she tried to defend, but the memory of Cas lying there, broken and bloody was etched into your brain.

“That’s not good enough! Wally died. Cas almost died! And for what? You didn’t say anything. You didn’t tell me anything! When Ramiel was threatening us, asking for what you stole, you didn’t do anything. You had the stupid thing, the key to our lives, and you didn’t offer that as a bargaining chip?”

“She did the right thing,” Ketch stupidly interrupted.

You turned your boiling anger onto him. “You’re the reason that all of this happened. I’m done with you and your stupid mission to get rid of all the monsters. This blind goal of yours isn’t getting rid of monsters; it’s creating them. And for what? What did you have Mary steal, huh?”

Ketch nodded at her, and Mary withdrew a wrapped package from inside her jacket. She slowly unwrapped it and when you saw what was within, you felt absolutely sick.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. The Colt? Do you have any idea what this is?” You nearly yelled at her. It had been years since you’d laid eyes on that gun, and you wished that you never had to ever again. But apparently God’s vacation with his sister meant that no one was home to answer your prayers.

Taken aback by your brash rage, she answered timidly. “My father used to tell me stories. There are only five things in all of creation that it can’t kill.”

“John is dead because of this thing.” Your words were meant to hurt her. You wanted her to understand just how horrifying this weapon was. “He traded his life and the gun to Azazel for Dean’s life. You just risked everyone’s lives for the thing that killed your husband.”

Mary blanched at your point-blank explanation. You weren’t about to give her the time to change her mind, though. Standing up, you grabbed your jacket and strode out of the diner. As soon as the cool night air kissed your skin, you knew where you wanted to end up tonight. So you pulled out your phone and hit one of your speed dials.

“Is this a thank you call?”

“This is a get me the hell out of here call, Crowley.”

“Not without a thank you, darling.”

That insufferable man! You had no idea why you put up with him. But you did know how to push his buttons so… “Fine. I’ll just call Sam and Dean.”

As soon as you hung up, the air shifted in front of you and your demon was standing right there. “You’d really pick those two idiots over me?”

Life was too complicated. Your Winchester boys, Mary, the British Men of Letters, and now the Colt was thrown into the mix. You didn’t want complicated. You wanted simple.

So you surged forward and took Crowley’s head in your hands, pulling his lips to yours in a searing kiss. You threw all of your anger and confusion into that kiss. As soon as his fingers dug into your waist, you were able to push all of it from your mind. Letting your lips trail over his cheek, you slowly made your way to his ear. “Get me out of here and I just might show you how thankful I am that you saved Castiel’s life.”

Not even a breath of a second later, you felt the heavy air of Hell surrounding you and Crowley’s hands on your chest, pushing you back onto the bed. With a grin covering your face, you crawled backwards until you were lounging on the mountain of pillows. “Men are so easy.”

NEXT EPISODE

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John Winchester era tu padre. Él había intentado protegerte de esa vida, pero era difícil protegerte de todo eso cuando tu madre había sido brutalmente asesinada por un antiguo dios Noruego cuando tenías diecisiete. Desde ese momento te viste arrastrada a la vida del cazador. Después de unos años, supusiste que viajar por el mundo te vendría bien. Después de todo, había monstruos que habían surgido en otros países, así que como razón, era una bastante válida suponer que si querías aprender diferentes técnicas para cazar y matar a esos monstruos, tendrías que viajar.

Funcionó bastante bien durante unos años. Hasta que te topaste con el lado oscuro de los Británicos. Durante meses intentaste escapar y una vez lo conseguiste, acabaste de alguna manera en America donde te tropezaste con los Winchester. Tus hermanos.

Al principio no se lo contaste porque no querías parecer débil. Y según fue pasando el tiempo, dejó de parecerte importante. Había peces más grandes que pescar.

Pero ahora tratar con los British Men of Letters era como ver a tu madre morir una y otra vez. Era doloroso. Lo único que te ayudaba era saber que Sam y Dean les odiaban tanto como tú lo hacías. Y pensabas que Mary también.

Al parecer estabas equivocada.

Obviaste por completo sus palabras y su justificación hasta que Dean preguntó. “Así que, ¿dónde nos deja esto a nosotros?”

“Igual que siempre. Somos familia.”

Tú no. Tú no eras su familia. Así  que incluso si ella sabía lo que los Británicos te habían hecho todos esos años atrás, no cambiaría su opinión. A ella sólo le importaban Sam y Dean. Tú solamente eras la hija de John. Tú no le importabas.

“Sólo escuchad lo que tengo que decir. ¿Por favor?”

“Vaya. Sólo vaya.” Dean se alejó unos pasos para aclararse la mente.

“Dean, lo que los British Men of Letters están haciendo…” no pudiste soportarlo más. Fuera lo que fuera lo que ella tenía que decir, fuera como fuera que justificara sus acciones, no te importaba nada. Si la tortura por la que había pasado su hijo no era suficiente para evitar que se juntara con esa panda, entonces nada de lo que tú fueras a decir lo cambiaría.

“Así  que entre nosotros y ellos,”  Dean le ofreció como ultimátum trayéndote de vuelta a la conversación.

“No es así.”

“Sí, Mary, es así.”

Tras la muerte de tu madre te sentiste muy sola. Después encontraste a Dean y Sam y todo volvió a estar bien. La vuelta de Mary había sido un milagro. Claro, fue difícil durante unos cuantos meses al principio, pero finalmente Sam y Dean eran felices, y tú te sentías feliz por ellos. Hubieras dado lo que fuera por tener a tu madre de vuelta, así  que para ellos tener a Mary de vuelta…

Pero ahora les estaba haciendo tanto daño. Querías abrazarles y decirles que todo iba a ir bien, pero no podías, porque nada iba a ir bien. Su madre les había traicionado. Tú no tenías ningún parentesco con ella y aun así se te revolvía el estomago ante lo que había hecho.

“Y ya has tomado la decision.” Dean dijo después de que ella permaneciera en silencio. “Así que ahí esta la puerta.”

Se fue, y Sam se levantó también. Mary dijo su nombre suavemente, pero Sam de mantuvo firme. “Deberías irte.”

Sam salió de la habitación detrás de Dean dejándote a ti con Mary. Se volvió hacia ti y tú sacudiste la cabeza.

“No son buena gente. Los Británicos. Vale, tienen instrumentos brillantes y planes elegantes, pero no son buena gente. Pensé que las cicatrices en el pie de Sam bastarían para convencerte de ello.” Finalmente reuniste la fuerza para ponerte en pie y rogaste para lograr salir de la habitación antes de romperte. Justo antes de que dieras el primer paso, miraste a la mujer que tenías delante.

“Amaba a mi madre más que a mi misma. Hubiera hecho cualquier cosa para tenerla de vuelta. ¿Pero si hubiera hecho algo como lo que tú estás haciendo ahora? Nunca hubiera sido capaz de perdonarla. Me alegro de que esté muerta para no tener preocuparme por si me iba a decepcionar y traicionar como tú acabas de hacerlo con Sam y Dean.”

*****

Las cosas estaban tensas en el bunker. Dean aún estaba inquieto y Sam seguía esperando el momento para hablar y aclarar un poco el ambiente. Intentaba mediar, pero Dean estaba demasiado enfadado. Afortunadamente estaban tan metidos en cómo les afectaba a ellos para darse cuenta de que tú estabas aguantando a duras penas.

Fue un rato después cuando Dean llamó a la puerta de tu habitación. “T/N, alguien quiere hablar con nosotros.”

“¿Americano o Británico’” preguntaste, mirando al techo.

La puerta crujió al abrirse y tu hermano mayor metió la cabeza dentro. “Ha traído whiskie.”

“Paso.”

“Venga, T/N/A. No quiero lidiar con este tipo yo solo.”

Actúa como si estuvieses enfadada por lo que le pasó a Sam. No sobreactúes o despertarás sus sospechas. Girándote en la cama, le seguiste renqueando. “Vale, pero sólo porque ha traído alcohol.”

Dean tendía a sospechar de la gente tanto como tú, así que el tipo ese, Ketch, lo tenía crudo. Tan pronto como menciono el nido de vampiros que había encontrado supiste que habías perdido a Dean. Llevaba tiempo deseando una caza. Estuviste tentada de pasar de esta, pero enviar a Dean a cazar a solas con uno de los Británicos iba en contra de todos tus principios. Así  que agarraste la chaqueta y les seguiste fuera del bunker.

*****

El sitio hacía que toda tu piel te picara. No era la idea de que sólo una hora antes hubiera sido una colmena de vampiros. No era porque el vampiro alpha hubiera estado en el edificio, muerto gracias al Colt. No. No era nada de eso.

Era por que era algo de los British Men of Letters. Era que Mary parecía cómoda, y Sam también parecía bastante a gusto. Era que Dean estaba deseando irse de caza con esos monstruos.

Así que Dean iba a perdonar a Mary y sabías que las cosas estaban cambiando. Los Británicos estaban encandilando a tu familia y apartándolos de ti.

Ketch trajo a Pierce esposado, restándole atención al desagradable y pegajoso momento familiar.

“¿Dónde os los lleváis?” preguntó Sam.

Ketch levantó la vista hacia vosotros cuatro. “Tenemos formas de lidiar con los cazadores que se han vuelto malos. No son agradables.”

Nadie te estaba prestando atención, nadie vio como te dabas la vuelta para evitar vomitar ante el recuerdo preciso de las cosas de las que estaba hablando. Tú habías estado en la posición de Pierce y te sentías de hecho, mal por ese tipo. Le esperaba un horrible futuro.

“Bien.” Dijo Mary suavemente al mismo tiempo que Sam asentía.

En ese momento supiste que todo había acabado. Tu madre estaba muerta. Tu padre estaba muerto. Ya debías haber sabido que era mucho pedir que tus hermanos permanecieran a tu lado. Estabas hecha para vivir la vida sola.

Te abrazaste tu propio estomago y te mantuviste firme lo mejor que pudiste hasta que Dean aparcó el Impala in frente del bunker. Después abriste la puerta y corriste a tu habitación, ignorando a tus hermanos mientras te llamaban.

“T/N, ¿qué pasa?” Sam entró en tu habitación detrás de ti, mirándote meter ropa en tu bolsa de viaje. ”¿Qué estás haciendo?”

“Está bien, Sam. Lo entiendo. Han llenado vuestras cabezas con delirios de grandeza. La brillante promesa de un mundo sin monstruos. Y tienen formas elegantes de luchar. Todas las armas con las que puedas soñar, Dean. Es como tu paraíso. Y ella es vuestra madre. Por supuesto que la vais a perdonar y a elegirla a ella así que no voy ni siquiera a daros un ultimátum. Me niego a haceros eso.”

“T/N, ¿de qué estás hablando?”

“¡Estoy hablando de esto!” moviste los brazos para referirte lo sucedido durante toda esa tarde, y ni siquiera luchaste contra las lágrimas que ahora caían por tu rostro. “Estoy hablando de cómo podéis perdonarla por trabajar con ellos después de lo que te hicieron, Sam. Estoy hablando de que de hecho, ya estáis trabajando con ellos.”

“No es una decisión fácil, T/N. Pero si yo puedo perdonarlo, no crees que tu deber-“

“¡No ese sólo por ti, Sam!” Gritaste, tu voz haciendo eco en los azulejos de los pasillos del bunker. Tus hermanos tardarían un minuto en procesarlo, pero sabías que te ya habías hablado más de la cuenta. No pararían hasta saber toda la historia, así que lo que querías es estar lejos para cuando quisieran intentarlo.

Cerrando la bolsa de viaje, te la colgaste sobre los hombros y les empujaste para pasar pero ambos hicieron un muro en la puerta de tu habitación.

“¿Qué quieres decir?” preguntó Dean lentamente.

“Vosotros dos ya habéis tomado una decisión. Nada de lo que diga va a cambiar eso. Es sólo que ahora, ya que vais a trabajar con ellos, yo me voy. Me niego a formar parte de esto.”

“¿Qué querías decir con eso de que no es solo por Sam?” La voz de Dean al hacer la pregunta era mucho más directa y agitada esta vez. No iban a dejarte marchar sin una explicación.

Te desinflaste un poco y diste un paso atrás, con los dedos agarrados a la correa de la bolsa tan fuerte que casi no sentías los dedos. “Te retuvieron durante unos días, Sam. Sé que fue horrible, las cosas que te hicieron y por lo que pasaste… no estoy tratando de quitarle importancia. Pero tú sólo has tenido que pasar por ello durante unos pocos días. A mi me tuvieron en una mazmorra especial durante meses. Las cosas por las que pase… no se las deseo a nadie. Ni siquiera a Pierce. Así que si os vais a meter en la cama con ellos, yo me voy.”

“T/N, no tenía ni idea.” Sam dio un paso hacia delante pero tú rápidamente te echaste hacia atrás y él tembló, molesto por tu rechazo.

“No os estoy haciendo elegir entre ellos y yo. Mary es vuestra madre. Yo soy sólo un error de vuestro padre.”

“Eso no es cierto,” insistió Sam, pero tú sólo sacudiste la cabeza.

Los Winchester eran mucho más amables de lo que deberían. Después de todo, si podían perdonar la traición de su madre, entonces obviar el hecho de que tú eras el mayor error de John era fácil para ellos. Tú no eras una verdadera Winchester. Si lo fueras, entonces los Británicos no hubieran podido retenerte durante tanto tiempo como lo hicieron.

“Tú no eres un error,” Dean estaba de acuerdo con Sam.

Tú ya habías tomado la decision. “Me voy. Ella es vuestra madre y yo estoy mejor sola.”

Esta vez, Sam y Dean te dejaron que les apartaras al pasar.

La voz de Dean te detuvo. “¿Por qué te torturaron?”

“Estaban aburridos,” dijiste simplemente, temblando al recordarlo. “Y yo era Americana. Vigilad vuestras espaldas.”

“What’s up?” Dean asked, glancing toward the door. He was anxious to save Sam. You were too. But this was something that couldn’t wait.

“When we get Sam—when he’s safe—I’m out of here. I thought you should know.”

“What? Why?”

Because I can’t handle being around you anymore.

“I’d rather not tell you my reasons,” you hedged, unable to come up with a lie. You’d spent months watching Dean struggle with his attraction to Amara after years of watching him seduce countless other women. It was painfully obvious that he would never feel the same way about you as you did about him.

And now that the world was saved and Mary was back, what better time to leave? Sam, Dean, and Mary Winchester would be together at last. You weren’t family, so you didn’t want to ruin their reunion.

Dean crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at you calculatingly. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“Nothing you have to worry about. I promise.” Walking backwards toward the garage, you tried not to feel the way your heart seemed to be fading. “I just thought you should know.”

*****

You gave Mary the front seat, choosing to sit as far from Dean as you could. Unrequited love sucked, but it was worse if you kept the stupid hope of maybe someday. Distance, both physical and emotional, made it easier to bear in the last few weeks.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” Dean muttered, glancing at Mary.

“I’m your mother. You have to do what I say.” She and Dean shared a look of mother and son trying to figure out where they stood with each other. “Look, they targeted the bunker. They obviously know a lot about you and Sam. They’ll be expecting you and Y/N. I’m… the last person they’d expect.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Dean work through his mother’s logic. “You were good at this, weren’t you?”

“Very,” she said quietly, almost remorsefully. “The thing is, hunters, no matter how good they are, they all end up the same way.”

Mary and Dean started talking about John, so you tuned them out to give them privacy and pretended to be asleep. The time was approaching when you would say goodbye to the Winchesters for good. They could be a family again, and you would go back to being a lone wolf hunter. Working alone was what was best. No connections. No one to care if you died and no one who would get killed if you messed up a hunt.

There was no doubt in your mind that you would die a bloody hunter’s death like Mary was describing. And there was no doubt that you would die alone. Falling for Dean had been the stupidest thing you could have done. He would never love you back.

*****

“Where’s all this warding you mentioned?” Dean asked when he got out of the car.

“It’s cloaked. Very powerful.” Cas looked at Mary, then back at Dean. “You brought your mother?”

“Hello Castiel. Yes, he did.” She seemed so sure of herself. She was a woman out of time, but she knew that she belonged here at this moment. You envied her that. And you envied that she would always have a place with Dean and Sam. She was a Winchester. You were just a girl that they hunted with for a few years.

“You sure if there’s anyone inside?” Dean turned the conversation back to the house.

“No. The agent said the lease was handled long-distance. But someone warded the house.”

“We’ll go have a closer look.” Dean started for the house and you debated whether to follow him or not. Mary had no qualms and moved with him. “Mom, I’ve got this.”

“You can keep me from driving, Dean, not from hunting.”

At a loss for how to stop his mother, Dean glanced at Cas, silently asking him to take the fall on this one. Of course he would look to Cas, and not you. He trusted Cas more than he trusted you. Cas had been his friend much longer than you’d known Dean.

It seemed like everywhere you looked, there was another reason that you should leave.

Once Cas convinced Mary to stay behind with him, Dean nodded for you to join him as you checked out the property. After a few minutes of nothing, you rounded a corner just in time to see Dean check a cellar door. He took a step back and eyed the upper floor, searching for any entry just as the ground at his feet started glowing.

“Dean!” You called, trying to run to help him, but the same symbol started glowing beneath you as well and a bright, white light blinded you. The light faded until everything was black.

*****

Slowly, the world started to bleed back in as you regained consciousness. Your arms were stretched over your head, wrists in shackles. A quick inventory of your surroundings showed Sam in a chair, Dean in a position much like yours, and a woman standing in front of Dean. She drew her arm back and punched him, brass knuckles glinting in the dim light.

“No!” You tugged against the chains, desperate to do anything if it meant Dean wouldn’t get hurt.

The woman looked over at you. “You’re awake. I’ve never had anyone react to that spell quite as much as you did. The longest anyone lost consciousness was ten minutes. You were out for nearly half an hour. It made my job easier, so thank you.”

“That’s the last time I’ll make your job easier, you bitch,” you spat.

“You Americans,” she tsked. “Always so crude. It’s time you were taught a lesson.”

She stalked over to you, refitting the brass knuckles to her fingers. As she got closer, you laughed. She thought that beating you would make you break?

“That’s not gonna work. You see, we crude Americans have seen a hell of a lot more action that you have. I bet you sit in your posh office all day, reading up on things. We live those things. Nothing you can do to me will come close to the torture I’ve already been through.”

Without warning, she swung at you, making your head snap to the other side. Through the pain of the brass, you could hear Dean’s shout. “What about me, bitch? I’m not good enough for you anymore?”

The British woman looked between you and Dean a few times, gears turning in her head. “Now isn’t this interesting?”

“What? How horrible you are at torturing people?” Anything to keep her attention on you. Anything to keep her from hurting Dean. “Because I find that very interesting. In fact, if you let me out of these cuffs, I’ll give you a few pointers.”

She completely ignored you and walked over to the table where various pain-inflicting instruments were lined up. From the array, she picked a knife and came back to stand in front of you. The tip of the knife dug into your arm and it took everything in you to hold back a scream.

“Stop!” Dean growled, struggling against his bonds.

Your eyes snapped open and glared at the smug woman in front of you. Spitting out some blood that had gathered in your mouth, you mustered all of the hate that you could. “As soon as I get out of these, I’m going to rip you apart. I’ll show you how to torture someone and you’ll be begging me to just kill you.”

“Interesting indeed. You and Dean seem to react very intensely if the other is in danger.” She pursed her lips and smirked. “I wonder why that is.”

“We’re partners,” you spat out just as she dragged the knife up your arm, and blood started trickling onto the floor. This time, you couldn’t stop your scream when the knife bit deep into the muscle.

“But that’s not all that you want to be, is it, Y/N?” Her accent was making you really want to punch her.

Instead, you looked from Sam to Dean, hoping either of them had a plan to get out of this. But your breath was stolen when your eyes met Dean’s.

There was a fire in them that you hadn’t seen before. This was more than just anger that someone was hurting his hunting partner. He was furious that she was hurting you.

“Now I wonder… what will you do when I return to Dean?”

Just as she placed the knife on Dean’s cheek, the unmistakable click of a gun being cocked sounded through the room and Mary’s voice followed. “Get away from my boys.”

Everyone froze, all for different reasons.

Mary’s entrance gave you the break you needed to try and puzzle out Dean’s expression, but you got nowhere.

Dean relaxed slightly in relief that the British bitch wasn’t going to hurt him anymore.

The British bitch froze as she figured out the new dynamics with someone else in the room.

And Sam completely froze, wide eyes trained on Mary.

“Mom?” he whispered in disbelief.

A flurry of action happened and you lost track of everyone’s movements. Somehow, Dean managed to get uncuffed while Mary and the Brit fought for control. Mary started gaining the upper hand and Dean rushed over to you, using the key to unchain you.

“You okay?” Concern coated his words and he looked down at you tenderly.

You nodded and rubbed at your wrists. Your arms were sore from being held up for so long, but there wasn’t time to focus on that now. Mary needed you and Dean.

So you two jumped into the fight, and it wasn’t long until she was knocked out. Almost immediately, your adrenaline started fading and you felt every cut and injury from the torture and the fight. You slumped against a wall and fell to the floor, head swimming from blood loss.

Dean tossed the keys to Mary and she hurried over to Sam while Dean was instantly at your side. “Hey, how you doing?”

“Just peachy,” you muttered, spitting out another mouthful of blood. Dean’s hands brushed over your body, searching for injuries. He landed on your arm.

“You’re bleeding pretty hard.” Dean shrugged out of his flannel and wrapped it around your arm to stop the blood flow. “This should—“

The world caved in as you passed out.

*****

“She’s awake,” Cas’s gruff voice greeted you when you regained consciousness. You groaned at the spike of pain that slashed through your body. His fingers on your forehead pushed some of the ache away, but not all of it. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I used up most of my energy healing Sam. When I regain more, I’ll heal you all of the way.”

“S’okay, Cas.” Sam needed it more than you did.

Then a rough, calloused hand was stroking your cheek and you opened your eyes to see Dean looking down at you. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey yourself.”

For a moment, Dean glanced away from you. Then you looked over and saw Cas leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. You were back at the bunker, laying in your bed.

So much for leaving once you found Sam.

“What happened?” You asked, trying to sit up. Dean was there in a heartbeat, sliding his arm behind your back for support. Once you were propped up against the wall, he slid next to you and explained.

You’d passed out from blood loss, or pain, or something. After that, a British man and Cas had shown up. The man took the woman—Toni—away and promised that she would be held responsible for her actions. That put a sour taste in your mouth. She deserved to pay—the American way.

“Uh,” Dean shifted, slightly uncomfortable. “So, Sam’s back.”

“Is he okay?”

“Mostly. She… did things to him. Made him hallucinate. But Sam’s here. Mom’s here. Cas is here. And I don’t want you to leave.”

That shocked you and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking over at him. Dean wasn’t good at the whole being upfront thing. “What?”

“I want you to stay.” If you hadn’t just woken up from passing out, you would have sworn that Dean was blushing. “Please.”

“Dean, I—” No words came to mind. You knew that you should leave, but looking into Dean’s eyes right then had you forgetting all of the reasons that you’d held close.

Ever so slightly, he leaned forward. “Watching her hit you… I need you, Y/N. We’re not just hunting partners. We’re family.”

“Dean,” your voice came out in a whisper as he kept closing the distance. He paused when his breath was hot against your lips. This was the moment you’d dreamt about. This was the endgame of all of your hopes.

You tilted your head, pressing your lips against his.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then you reached up and rested your hand along his cheek and he pressed forward, lips moving over yours in a mesmerizing dance.

“Please stay,” he mumbled against your lips.

When you opened your eyes, the passion in his took your breath away.

“Okay.”

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